#left it kinda open ended so anyone can do their spin or take on it

[winterspiderpurrs]

Enhanced Omega Peter Parker. More mutants and enhanced individuals were common place now.

Maybe he decided to capitalize on the attention he would get.

Say...

Opening a gym, with him as an instructor.

All the Alphas signing up for this twink omega to be their instructor or to sign up for classes he offers.

But each Alpha starts getting disappointed that Peter can bench press tour busses with ease. So he isn't impressed with all the showing off these Alphas can do.

Sure it probably gets lonely with Alpha's being too intimidated by him.

No one expects the Alpha that actually ends up courting Peter.

[meanwaffle]

Comforting Ruby (Diluc x Alcoholic!Reader)

Echoes of the Night (Chapter 1)

☆ Tags/warnings: alcohol abuse, rivals to lovers fic, bartender diluc

☆ Notes: I wrote this back in april! I kinda retired fic writing, but I want to get back into it because it was always a hobby that made me happy.

I have chapter 3 of my adachi fic half way written as well for anyone waiting for that! super excited to share that and this! :) thank you for taking the time to read!

-

The dimly lit bar echoed with the sounds of clinking glasses and hushed murmurs from patrons scattered throughout the building. Some were there to share a dinner with their family, and others were loud with celebration. Yet, in this atmosphere of joy, you found yourself the odd one out.

The purpose of coming to the bar tonight had long left you, drowned in the constant noise and the swirling currents of conversations around you. The air hung heavy with the scent of various liquors, wines, and as you sat amidst the lively crowd, all you could do was let your thoughts attempt to bubble into something coherent before completely vanishing.

“ Ughhh .” you groaned under your breath. How did this happen? You were so drunk you couldn’t remember what was even in your drink, let alone how you managed to finish it all plus several others.

Empty beer mugs were stacked haphazardly around you, evidence to the hours you had spent here. Your thoughts were jumbled and slurred and any attempt to make sense of them ended with an expected failure. “I want more.” The words stumbled out on their own. “I want to order something sweet.”

Charles, who was only a few steps away, turned to face you. The friendly, familiar bartender smiled at you, followed by a firm head shake. "No can do, little lady." With a quick denial, he started to gather the glasses cluttered around you. "Yer already sloshed beyond limit. "

“ Charles !”

“None of that whining. I would have cut you off earlier if I wasn’t swamped tonight. I’m gonna have to find someone to bring ya home.” He glanced around. “and I gotta start getting ready to close. Closing early tonight! Big plans—.”

Despite his words being clearly spoken, you found it increasingly difficult to clearly hear him. The subtle movement of his lips became a blur, and strangely enough, the more you blankly stared at him, the more you forgot what he looked like. The sounds coming out of his mouth seemed to fall on deaf ears as your attention drifted into an abstract haze.

You allowed your head to fall back into the empty air. The corners of your mouth quivered feebly, attempting to form a smile that refused to come to light. Suddenly, your body convulsed as your head involuntarily fell forward and vomit forced its way out of your throat and into some sort of rustic bucket in front of you. The acrid taste of bile and alcohol lingered in your mouth, making you gag even more. Your breath was heavy and you gulped harshly to suppress the desire to puke more.

You were confused, drunk, sick, and you wanted to ask why the bar was across the room when you were sitting there not even two seconds ago. Did you move yourself or did someone move you? Maybe you were teleporting.

As the wave of nausea passed, you lifted your head, opening your eyes to a blurry world. Shapes and colors swirled around you, and you could hear fragments of sentences from other voices. Your head felt like it was spinning out of control, and the sounds around you were distorted and garbled. Then, for just a moment, all the different lines and textures and colors of reality lined back up together to form visuals you could actually understand.

Three individuals you couldn’t make out stood in the empty bar. ‘When did everyone leave?’, you wondered. The bucket in front of you is filled with the remnants of your previous meal, or lack thereof. All of them were talking and still you couldn’t make out any of the voices.

“ I’ll go home by myself,” It came out as more of a sob. One of the figures, someone you knew yet couldn’t recognize, was swift to stand by your side and rub your back. The compassion you could feel from them reminded you of your mother which made you break into another drunken sob. They quietly spoke sweet words you couldn’t stop yourself from ignoring. “I’m– no , I'm fine!” Stumbling through the thick haze of inebriation. Whatever they were trying to tell you wasn’t important enough for you to retain the information. More words tumbled their way out of your throat, but you were none the wiser to what was being said.

Their voices continued to speak, but moments were slipping away from you. Everything around you felt like scattered fragments of a dream. A dream you were enjoying.

-

The shrill sound of bells forced you awake.

You bolted upright unintentionally. The unstable bed shook, creating a wobble which tossed you off the side of the bed and straight onto the floor. Strings of curses escaped your lips, but you gathered yourself and sat on the edge of the bed; burying your head into the rough flesh of your palms.

The events from the previous night were blurry. Fragments of memories were somewhat understandable; only due to the burning shame in your chest and pounding headache. You remember going to the bar and throwing up, afterwards you ran out to go home... then... bricks. Lots of bricks. What was that about, you wondered?

“Oh my god…” you mumbled.

You glanced up and came face to face with today’s chaotic appearance. Your hair was messy enough to represent a rat’s nest. And geez, you didn’t want to even mention the sorry state of your eyes. The unfashionable black circles were darker than usual, creating a sharp glare. If a child saw you, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for them to scream, "Mommy, there's a raccoon trying to impersonate a human again!"

This was a daily thing. Looking in your mirror and pointing out any flaw you can find. Some people might argue it's not good for your mental well-being, but for you, it was a comforting routine. It brought some order into your life, something you could rely on.

You'd even think of ways to fix yourself. A haircut could sort out the messy hair, and maybe some skincare advice from Marjorie could help with those tired-looking eyes.

Yep, with just a little touch up you could really sparkle. Similarly to the ruby ring on your dresser.

…...?

A ring?

There, on the dresser, a vibrant ruby ring laid, catching the light and dazzling in your gaze. The gem alone was huge, but the gold accents made your mouth fall open! Confusion set in like a fog. That can’t be right; for you knew you could never own, let alone afford, such an extravagant ring.

You attempted to think back and decode your blurry memories to figure out how this ring even got here, but you knew it would be a failed effort. You can’t even remember how you got home!

You were left with one giant question. How did this ring end up here?

Oh goodness… you could only pray you haven't accidentally turned into a mugger. If getting blackout drunk transformed you into a thief, your drinking would be developing into a real problem and that wasn't the case! You never drink by yourself so that means you're perfectly fine.

Surely, there was a reasonable explanation. Perhaps you struck someone's fancy and they gifted you this ring as an attempt to capture your favor?

You glanced back over at the mirror. Nope, you've unquestionably sunk to the station of a mere thief.

With your sole concern being speed, you swiftly dressed and tidied up your hair as best as you could. There was only one thing you could do; return to the scene of the crime and figure out step by step what events led to the ring to end up in your home. And god forbid, if you did end up stealing the ring, you were prepared to humble yourself and plead with them not to press charges.

You wouldn’t be able to survive in jail! They don't allow prisoners to go to the bar!

As you power walked back towards Angel’s Share, suppressing the anxiety of facing the consequences of the previous night, one name dominated your thoughts: Mr. Six-Fingered Jose. He was an excellent friend, a genuinely kind soul who continues to uplift you despite your obvious flaws. The best part is, he sings at the bar almost every night. Surely, he must have seen you last night at Angel’s Share and can give you some sort of summary of what occurred.

Best case scenario, Jose can confirm that the only crime committed last night was the embarrassing display you can only assume you provided.

Worst case scenario, he already contacted the authorities and is currently giving them your description.

The building came into view and you swallowed any lingering anxiety as you walked inside. And if Jose doesn't have any information to help, Charles absolutely should. “You’re fine,” you thought to yourself, “one conversation and all this worry will go away.”

The tavern's warm wooden exterior came as a surprise. You were used to the cluttered atmosphere during the evening. The knights dragging their buddies in and out of the bar, the inside flooded with loud singing and lots of beer.

Potted flowers hanged along the windowsills and families seemed to be enjoying a meal together out in the sun. The sight put a thought in your head you never had about the establishment before.

How peaceful. Why would anyone drink at home when they can come here?

As you stepped inside, the interior was flooded with natural light, revealing more patrons eating, chatting and spending quality time in a social setting. The scent of brewing tea and the hum of conversation filled the air, much different from your usual visits. Amidst the lively day-time experience, there was a disappointing absence. The spot by the door, where Jose usually performed, was empty. You blinked a few times, your gaze transfixed, similar to a hydro slime caught in the blinding glare of a sudden fire. A dreadful feeling of idiocy crept up your spine as it dawned on you that the only lead you had wasn’t at the tavern because Jose only plays here at night!

You were so concerned with the sudden appearance of your, or whoever's, ring, that you didn’t take into account the time of day. Jose doesn’t waste his days confining his performances to the tavern alone. He wasn’t like you, he had a life beyond this place, other audiences to impress, and possibly more enjoyable company elsewhere.

Well, the simple choice would have been to walk out and continue your obligation of figuring out the events of last night. But you walked all this way! Surely, it’s alright to stay for a brief moment. A glass of wine is a must, especially in a troubled situation such as this one.

The bar was empty, but that didn’t surprise you. It was always quiet when you first arrived, with people trickling in as the night went on. Besides, it wasn’t like you came here earlier for the sole purpose to drink. You just had a good reason to come here and a good reason to drink.

A sense of shame welled up inside you, with the rational part of your mind warning against the terrible idea of drinking this early, especially after last night which possibly involved theft. But still, your heart rate was skyrocketing and you felt your breaths getting choppy. This ring was making you anxious.

“Just one glass is okay, it'll make the hangover more bearable” you justified to yourself, “and you’re in a stressful situation. It’ll chill you out."

Plus, while drinking you can speak to Charles. You vividly remember him cutting you off, so he might have an answer and you won’t even need to bother Jose with more of your troubles, so going to the bar is actually a great idea. The glass of wine is icing on the cake.

“Now may I ask why you’re here so early?” The words spilled from lips you didn’t know. With an air of sophistication and directness; it was obvious this wasn’t Charles. You had been so in your head about last night causing you to overlook the fact that an unrecognizable figure now occupied Charles's customary spot and, worst of all, was wearing his uniform.

...What intense eyes.

It was the first thing you noticed from the striking figure; deep, fierce ruby eyes. Matching red hair was tied neatly into a bun, adding some flair to his proper appearance. Chiseled facial features, followed by a strong jawline and high cheekbones, you could gather that he was a younger man.

And yet, the allure of his looks was overshadowed by the rude intentions the young man brought forth with his words. His furrowed eyebrows, on top of a glare not so subtly hidden, presented the first ever unwelcoming attitude you witnessed in this establishment.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s noon.” The unnamed bartender pointed his finger towards a clock, not even bothering to look in its direction. He was too busy gazing ahead, seemingly scanning something. Perhaps other customers.

You didn't know how to respond. This rando’s audacity actually had you stunned! What was he implying here? You mean, he could be busy tending to other odd jobs before the flow of bar-goers hits and is annoyed you interrupted that, after all he did seem distracted, but with that glare? No, he's absolutely shaming you for drinking wine this early.

You wanted to scream at him, get over it! Making drinks is the main part of the job and you should be ready to do it whenever! Even Charles, who has kicked you out a few times and cut you off more times then you can count, always maintained his professionalism within the job.

“And…? The bar is open at noon isn't it...?” You fired back, heat creeping up your spine and igniting an intense warmth in your cheeks. You haven’t even ordered yet. Glancing around, you spoke with a bit of huff in your tone. “Is Charles around?”

With a raised eyebrow, he responded “He is not.”

“Where is he?”

“How come you’re asking?” The red headed man stopped the minimal cleaning he was tending to, leaning onto one elbow against the bar and giving you his full attention. “Did you come here to speak to him?”

It was as if you were in an integration seat. “Well, no, I was looking for Jose. Not that it’s any of your business.” With a sigh, you avert his gaze. Eye contact makes you nervous. "But, if you must know, he isn’t here so I thought I'd speak to Charles. Glass of red wine, please.”

The red-headed man crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering and filled with suspicion. Frustration lingered as you tried to understand why this guy would be here instead of Charles. He lacks social manners! Why would they hire him? You didn’t even know they were hiring!

"Why do you need to talk to Charles if you were originally looking for Jose?" he inquired.

Letting out an over dramatic sigh, you sank back in your barstool. “None of your business.” your eyes wandered to the enticing array of wines displayed on a shelf behind the bar. “Just get me a glass of red wine, please .”

The bartender clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Your attitude wasn’t this unpleasant last night."

"Attitude?" You began to raise your voice. Your body was halfway off the stool, preparing to create a scene. However, when the eyes of nosy customers bore into you, transforming your surroundings into a sea of awkward silence. You couldn't help but cringe at yourself as you shifted back into your seat, realizing your impulses always find new ways to embarrass yourself.

The bartender, with an eyebrow furrowed, was still looking at you as if he was waiting for a response.

“Wait, huh?” Your head tilted sideways, “You said last night?”

“Yes.”

“You mean, you saw me last, last night?”

“…Yes.” His lips pressed together in a straight line. “Remember? We talked lots about–”

“Oh my god!” Jumping out of your stool, unintentionally creating the scene you just narrowly avoided, but that was no longer a concern. There was a break in the case! “We were here, right? At Angel's Share?”

"I guess you could say that…" His nose scrunched up.

"You guess?!" More eyes focused on you. Embarrassed but trying to stay cool, you cleared your throat, sat back in your seat, and lowered your voice. "Sorry, I meant—what do you mean by 'you guess'? Did you see me leave the bar?"

His expression tightened. It was strange—every part of his face was tense, from his stiff lips to his furrowed eyebrows. "…You were there. Don’t you remember?"

Why was he acting so weird? If he actually saw you last night, it shouldn't surprise him that you blacked out. "You saw me last night, but didn't notice how drunk I was? Of course I don't remember."

His eyes shifted, but he didn’t say a word.

Your demeanor transformed into a gentle plea for the answer. Initially, the bartender regarded you with a puzzled expression, as if you were speaking an ancient language, confused on why this interaction was taking place.

“It was painfully obvious you were drunk." He finally spoke. "But... to forget the entire night is unthinkable.”

"Well, news flash, liquor can do crazy stuff like that," you snapped, your voice sharper than intended. "Aren't you supposed to be a bartender? Shouldn't this be common for you?"

"This is my first day." He cocked his head to the side. "Surely, you would have seen me before if I was regularly working."

Yikes. You fell silent. After all, what could you possibly say in response to that? He got you good with that one.

If only Charles was here. You hated eye contact, yet here you were, locked in a silent stare with him. It felt like the final round of a staring contest, with a billion mora on the line. First, you wake up realizing you might’ve stolen a ring expensive enough to get you jail time, and now you have to deal with this… "aggravating roach."

"Did you say something?" "Yeah, I said, where's the wine I ordered?" You huffed. "Since Charles and Jose aren't here, and you aren't adding

You expected another snappy response, but instead, his face finally softened. Maybe if he kept it that way, the wrinkles on his forehead would ease up too. “…You were here past closing last night…” His tone wasn’t harsh. "I was here to talk with Charles about business. When I arrived, the place was supposed to be cleared out, but there you were. Head in a bucket. Jose was rubbing your back."

"And…?"

"….hm." He glanced to the side. "Jose walked you home."

Your smile transformed into a frown, the disappointment hitting hard. You had hoped for more—some crucial detail. Instead, all you got was a shrug and a nod, and the vague confirmation that Angel's Share was not the place the ring was snatched. Unless, of course, you pickpocket someone without anyone noticing, but that's absurd. How could you sneakily take a ring, drunk as hell, without anyone noticing? Especially when you were escorted home. The weight of the ring in your pocket felt heavier now, a reminder that you needed to figure out what the hell happened before there were any serious consequences.

He nodded, then turned his back to you, probably getting back to work. But who cared about his job? Certainly not you—what kind of bartender doesn't bring the wine after being asked twice? Whatever. That wasn't the goal right now.

Frantically, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the ruby ring, holding it delicately between your thumb and finger. You leaned forward, showing it to the aggravating roach. “Do you know whose ring this is?”

He glanced back for just a moment. “....It’s yours...?” The bell rang, notifying him that more customers walked inside. He turned over to the side, no longer looking at the ring.

Well isn't he unhelpful? Just loud and wrong. You parted your lips to speak, but then quickly shut them. Even if you knew it wasn’t a good idea to reveal to a stranger that you could possibly be a thief, especially one who asks so many questions for no reason. He absolutely seems like the type to report you to the Knights of Favinous! And yet, he was so quick to answer. It must be embarrassing for him to be so confident in an incorrect answer, but you can’t even point that out without exposing yourself. What a shame, that would have been good payback for earlier.

“That’s was a strange question,” he added, disrupting your thoughts. His attention was back on to you. “Do you not like it now that you’re sober?”

Is he implying you bought it when you were drunk last night? Funny, like you or him could ever afford such a ring. This is at least six months of your old salary.

You tried to think of a reasonable response. “It was… uh, lent… yeah, it was lent to me and I need to return it.” shaky reasoning, though it was all you had, “I’m just having some problems remembering… the wine... where's the wine I ordered?”

The man's lips tightened into a thin line before he pivoted and reached for a bottle of red wine. With no words, he poured the crimson liquid you had been yearning for into a glass. With an indifferent gesture, he placed it in front of you, not even granting you a glance anymore. "Jose performs near the Favonius Cathedral during the day, if you still want to talk to him.

"I'm well aware!" you retorted, quickly and untruthful, but he had already moved on to attend to another patron.

With shame, you brought the glass to your lips, allowing the robust flavor to momentarily distract you from the unsettling realization that this jerk seemed to know your friend better than you.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Holy shit if you write an avatrice footy au…good god my gay football loving heart I will love you forever

[it's coming along!]

you’re scrimmaging, small-sided, at the end of training — not your absolute favorite but better than ending with conditioning, although you’d already lifted today. even if you’d never admit it, sometimes you feel like you’d rather retire than do another beep test. you get stuck in, a strong tackle, versus lilith near your team’s goal, quick and complete, and then you feel, as you sometimes do, like the ball is with you. everything goes quiet and you could pass, maybe, but it all slows down and you see opening after opening, feints and stepovers and then a finish that feels like heaven: perfectly on the top of your foot, no spin on the ball, so fast and hard, placed in the lower left corner. mary watches it go in, instead of even reaching, and you roll out your shoulders, take a big breath. it’s exhilarating — close to joy, and a lot of duty — to move in the way that makes your body feel calm, and purposed, and controlled. 

‘good, beatrice,’ your coach, m. superion says, and you nod quietly.

‘holy fucking shit,’ you hear ava say as you accept a few high fives. 

camila laughs. ‘yeah. that’s what the best in the world looks like.’

it’s apparently a good goal to end on, because superion calls it and sends you all off. you dutifully make your way to physical therapy, listening happily and idly to a few of your teammates talk about the weather and their plans for your free rest day coming up soon. you listen and remember: you know how to be a good teammate, a good captain, because you love your teammates, care about their wellbeing. 

eventually some people go to cool down and stretch. you go to physical therapy, as you have for a while because of a string of mostly small and nagging injuries.

‘hey,’ ava says, sidling up to your hip as you walk down the hall. ‘that was — i’ve genuinely never seen anyone move with the ball like that before.’

you want to smile, but it’s hard to take a compliment that sincere, that pointed with praise. it makes you feel special, and you have no idea what to do with that. ‘thank you.’

she grins, sits down on the table next to yours. ‘i’ve watched you play for years, but seeing it in person is… fucking awesome. i’m pumped to get to play with you.’

‘i —‘ you don’t quite know what exactly to say— ‘you bring a lot of joy to the pitch.’ admittedly, ava’s work rate and fitness and defensive discipline appear to be kind of abysmal; she seems mostly concerned with scoring, but it’s true. she smiles and laughs and tries outrageous moves, even on her first day with your squad.

’wow, thank you,’ she says, totally sincere, and it makes something in your chest — long since locked away — ache. ‘i’m, like, sort of a big fan? this is kinda wild for me.’

‘well, let me know if you’d like an autograph later.’

ava raises her brows. ‘oh, i mean, i’m sorry if that was weird?’

you do succumb to a laugh now. ‘no, no. i was kidding. i promise i’m nothing special.’

‘that’s insane,’ ava says, unceremoniously stripping her shirt off, and you have to look away. you’ve spent your entire life in locker rooms and recovery, but this feels, just — different. ‘you’re like. such a badass.’

you can’t do anything but stare at your ankle and just shake your head, and you can tell that ava is ready to argue this point forever, but then vincent walks over with the TENS machine.

‘good to see you again, beatrice,’ he says, ‘and hello, ava. i’m vincent; i’ll be your physical therapist with the team.’

‘sweet,’ ava says, offers a hand. ‘good to meet you, man.’

‘you too.’ he turns toward you. ‘i’m going to get ava set up first, beatrice, and then we’ll do stim and ice on your ankle, the usual.’

you give a firm thumbs up, which makes ava smile into her shoulder. her hair is sweaty, slicked back and out of its ridiculous and ineffective bun. you think, for a moment, what it would be like to run your fingers through it after a game, or in the shower, or — 

you swallow and feel a little panicked at that train of thought, stop it immediately, focus on the rehab exercises vincent had given you a few days ago to reload the lateral tendon in your ankle like you’ve been working on for months. 

vincent tells ava to turn around on the bed so he can do a quick assessment, and you don’t want to look; you don’t mean to look, but there’s ava’s pale skin and thin, small, strong shoulders; the nape of her neck, the tender truth of her elbows. you notice it all before you see the scar that runs what seems like the length of her spine, healed and faded but clearly a little irritated after playing today. you don’t wonder why she still wants to play, even though she tells vincent that her pain is at a four and then, when he lifts a brow, reluctantly admits it’s closer to a seven.

he frowns, massages an area around her spine between her shoulder blades with the soft tissue cream for a moment, and she nods.

‘yeah,’ she says, ‘it’s a little better.’

‘we want to be careful bringing you back into fitness and full contact.’

she groans. ‘i’ve been careful for the past two years.’

‘i’m afraid you’re always going to have to be careful.’

ava sighs. ‘yeah, yeah.’ she sits, shoulders a little slumped, and you want to cheer her up somehow, make things better, bring back the joy she’d given the room. but you stay quiet, return an email from your agent about an upcoming shoot later this week, and when you look over, ava is on her stomach, her head turned and resting in the crook of her crossed arms on top of a pillow, facing in your direction. vincent puts the pads carefully on either side of the back of her sports bra, and she relaxes, just slightly, as her puts a heating pad over it to cover the majority of her back.

she looks peaceful, when she closes her eyes as you lie back and let vincent massage your ankle for a minute or two and then prop your leg up on a bolster. he gets your pads and current level situated — you know it’s supposed to be comfortable, but you always push yourself a few levels higher than what is actually comfortable — and then wraps your ankle in ice.

‘twenty minutes,’ he says, ‘and then i’ll let you go for the day; i think you have film after lunch.’

‘thank you,’ you say, and you think ava might have legitimately fallen asleep but then she cracks an eye open and smiles at you. 

‘you had surgery this off season?’

‘you are a fan.’

a delightful blush darkens her cheeks but she takes it in stride. ‘well, maybe i follow you on instagram. maybe. but you never even post anything. i just got it from the IR, honestly.’

you hadn’t posted about your ankle — the minor surgery you’d had or any of the off-season therapy and training you’d done or how mary and shannon had forced you to let them bring you food and watch movies with you on your couch — so you figure that is legitimately true. ‘i did,’ you say. ‘uh, have surgery.’

‘so we’re gonna be PT buddies this season,’ she says, genuinely excited at the prospect. 

‘i can’t imagine the PT you’ve had to do.’ you don’t mean to play your cards, not quite like this, but ava’s smile is sad and gentle and you can’t find it in yourself to regret it. 

she hums. ‘the feeling of being back on the pitch is, like, a fucking miracle.’

‘your back hurts, though?’

she shrugs as best she can. ‘yeah, all the time. but i love football, and i was never supposed to get to play again, so, you know, i figure i’ll just try for as long as i can.’

‘football is my favorite thing,’ you say, quietly, and ava’s smile turns happier.

‘me too.’

‘not defending, though.’

ava rolls her eyes. ‘yeah, i get the feeling lilith hates me already.’

‘your defensive work rate is terrible.’

ava seems mostly unfazed. ‘my finishing slaps, though, cap. gotta give me that.’

‘perhaps.’

she grins. ‘i’m gonna be scoring worldies, just you watch.’

you have the feeling that, work rate or not, ava is going to be a light. you’re the best player in the world because you have devoted your life to your craft: you stay longer and work harder and take recovery more seriously than anyone you know. you don’t drink; you stick to your nutritional plan exactly. you don’t have — distractions.

‘lilith is just upset because, since shanon retired, she thought she was going to take over starting at the 9.’

ava awkwardly waves her hand as if to shoo off the thought. ‘i doubt i’ll start anytime soon.’

you don’t want to tell ava that watching her today, even though she seemingly hates tracking back and marking anyone, ever, every shot she’d had on goal was electric. was beautiful. ‘we’ll see, i guess.’

‘i don’t — i don’t really care about starting, or stats, or whatever.’

that’s part of the problem, you want to say, but it feels important to be quiet.

‘i just want to play.’

you nod. ‘i can — it’s easy to see.’

she grins. ‘so, beatrice, where’s the best place to eat here? favorite bar? where do you go dancing? are you single?’

you blanch a little at the last question, feel your heart start to race. 

ava can notice, horrifyingly. ‘i just — sorry, if that’s too personal. i just love new places, and i’ve been doing physical therapy for so long i’m excited to go… be a person again, outside of football.’

‘it’s okay,’ you say. ‘i don’t really go out.’ you leave it at that, hope it’s enough. ‘but camila and mary love a thai place nearby. i’m sure some of the girls have a few spots they’d be happy to take you to.’

‘cool,’ she says, ‘and you’ll come with, right?’

‘ava.’

she laughs. ‘i’m gonna get you to have a life outside of football too, i swear. it makes the football more fun.’

maybe that’s true, but you wouldn’t really know. you had been playing in academies since you were twelve. 

‘what’s the point in being the best in the world if you don’t enjoy the world?’

you have no answer for that, but thankfully the timer on the TENS beeps for ava and vincent pops by, takes the pads off and then does the same for you. you don’t miss ava’s grimace as she sits up and your chest pulls in worry for her, but then she sets her face into a smile and thanks vincent, puts on her slides and a clean hoodie. she waits for you to walk to the locker room.

‘first day was okay?’

‘first day,’ she says, ‘was magic.’

you smile; how can you not? ‘well, conditioning is tomorrow; superion is… so intense. don’t expect much magic from that.’

ava just laughs. 

/

the next day ava throws up in a trash can during the beep test but, to her credit, she does keep going, tapping out a few stages before you, on par with most of the other girls.

no one comes close to beating you, and when you finish at 14 — your own personal record you can’t ever seem to break — you hold your hands above your head, open up your burning lungs, even though all you want to do is lie down and close your eyes until you feel less exhausted, less light headed.

but eventually you’re finished, and you run through some easy passing sequences on the pitch before you head to PT again, ava in tow. 

‘you’re right,’ she says, wiggling a little to get comfortable on the table next to you.

‘about many, many things,’ you say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘but what specifically are you referring to?’

‘the beep test is categorically the opposite of magic.’

you laugh. 

‘i was just thinking about how good a pizza will taste tonight.’

‘i don’t know the last time i’ve even had pizza.’ it’s an admission that comes out far more honestly than you’d intended. 

ava frowns. ‘pizza is magic, okay? plus, we can get, like, protein and veggies; it’s an awesome food.’ she turns toward you. ‘wanna get pizza with me tonight, bea?’

no one in the entire world calls you bea, and you think about correcting her but she’s smiling so hopefully, her hair messy and her eyes big and brown and gorgeous, you nod. ‘fine. but, delivery? i want to watch some more film.’

‘ugh,’ ava says, ‘here?’

‘oh,’ you say, ‘no. no. i was planning on going home and watching it there.’

ava grins. ‘so this is an invitation to your home?’

you feel a rush of nerves, imagining ava on your couch, eating pizza, watching film from last season; suddenly, it’s all you want. ‘if you’d like.’

ava reaches out to give you a high five; it’s clumsy and at an odd angle because neither of you can move, but it’s warm and happy all the time. ‘this is gonna be great.’

you think, despite all the hope you try to tamp down, that it is.

[acourtofthought]

Hi! I love your blog! I came into the fandom a bit late and kinda liking Elriel (their art was cute!), but they don’t really do it for me anymore & I think Elucien and Gwynriel would have more interesting journeys. An argument I’ve been seeing a lot since Azriel’s POV chapter is that the series is about the sisters, and Azriel would never have his own book (I’m guessing because an Azriel book would kinda rule out an Elriel endgame). But then a lot of the same people go on to say Lucien and Vassa would have their own book, which then comes across as pushing Lucien into another relationship to get him out of the way… so idk.

I thought the original three (and a half?) books were about Feyre’s journey and then SJM expanded the series and decided to explore different characters with two POVs per book. I feel like this was said in an interview, but I don’t have it on hand. I enjoyed reading about Nesta; and I do think Elain is getting a much needed book, but that still leaves at least one more novel and a novella. I could see the novella being multiPOV like ACOFAS, but I would imagine the second upcoming novel would follow characters that aren’t Archerons (if not Azriel, then maybe Mor? There’s still a lot to discover with her!). Sorry for the rambling & if you addressed this before. At the end of all this, my question is: has it been stated the series is only about the sisters? Or is that born out of specific shipping preferences?

Hey there!!

I actually started off in the fandom like you did, thinking E/riel was going to be a thing but when I went back and really dived into the books I switched up my preference.

I'm not sure whether it's selective memory or whether certain people only share certain snippets of these interviews and that's when the rumors and misinformation runs wild.

I do think the sisters inspired her to realize there was more to the ACOTAR series than just what was going on with Feysand:

But we know for a fact that the spin offs were never only going to be about the sisters:

She confirmed each spin-off would follow one new pairing and as there were two sisters and three new full length books, I don't know how anyone can claim the series was only ever about them. She said there were various stories she was deciding on for the third book, one that might even take place before the events of ACOTAR. There's also an interview where she says, "and I say three but" there are so many stories she wants to tell so while we know with certainty that Elain and Nesta were always getting a book.....

...she never planned on stopping there and I think that's proven by the recent announcement that she is now contracted for an additional 4 books beyond the two she still has left in ACOTAR (some of those 4 could be additional ACOTAR ones).

Maybe the debate is more centered around who was getting the first two spin-offs? That they feel it should be the sisters because her plan since ACOMAF was to always continue on with their journeys?

To that, I do see the point they're making because if SJM originally thought the third spin-off was going to be a prequel then logic would be that Nesta and Elain got the first two books. SJM obviously drew them into the series in a major way by introducing them to their mates all the way in book 2.

But the problem with the other side is they are convinced that means Az will be getting a shared pov when what's more likely is that Elain was to have a shared pov with Lucien.

Say the third book was going to be a prequel and that meant we only had two books left in the current world of ACOTAR. In ACOWAR, who had more unresolved plotlines which would make sense for a pov in the second spin-off, Az or Lucien?

Az had open ended storylines for sure, his unrequited love for Mor and his hatred of the Illyrians.

But who was the unknown heir to the Day Court with unknown powers? A brother who wanted to reconnect with him? Who had been chased out of his home in Spring and has no real home right now? Who had recently suffered SA and abuse? Who had an unresolved mating bond? Whose father was still abusing his mother and refusing to allow him into Autumn to see her? Who befriended a female with a still unbroken curse and traveled to the continent where Koschei is? Who had traveled with Elain's father before his death, a big deal when you consider how close she was to him?

Lucien had just as much setup as Elain and I think that means SJM knew he and Elain were the book she was sure about while deciding on who was getting the third. Because again, there was a chance the third was going to have nothing to do with the current cast if it was to be set in the past. To me that means she was planning on wrapping up Lucien's storyline in the second, along with Elain's. I find it impossible to believe that he's played a starring role since book 1, had trauma after trauma thrown his way, was shocked at finding out he had a mate after believing he had already lost her (a MMC storyline for sure when you consider Rowan), only for her to just forget about him in favor of E/riel being the second book.

I think, in trying to prove their ship is happening, some pick and choose specific lines from her interviews that support their narrative. We all do this in our interpretation of them to some degree but the problem comes when people manipulate the interviews, sharing single lines while cropping the rest and passing that around the fandom as the whole story. Or paraphrasing her actual words in a way that twists them in their favor rather than supplying the actual interview.

[fraeuleintaka]

Investigations 1 Introductory Description

This is the 28th post in the Ace Attorney Investigations Collection Countdown: 53 days left until release!

Today's topic: the Introductory Description of Investigations 1!

[vague spoilers for Investigations 1]

Along with the artwork representing each game the website also gives a short introduction on them along with several of their major characters. I'd like to talk about each of these little introductions starting with Investigations 1 for today.

The tagline they chose for it is pretty interesting. It focuses on an exciting chase of some kind and how you have to solve a mystery, not really anything concrete story-wise (no mention of the smuggling ring or the Yatagarasu being that which you chase) but more the emotions behind it and a hook for wanting to find out more. It's really vague but I also like it in a way because solving mysteries is the crux of Ace Attorney and it's probably good to announce that for Miles' first solo outing. They could've gone for a more thematic approach (like how do you fight criminals that are outside/above the law or what if you reach the limits of the law) but it's possible they considered that too much of a spoiler already which I can understand. Especially considering how tight I1's time frame is the tagline they chose more than fits 😄

In the following description they, of course, mention that this is Miles' show now and that Phoenix isn't going to be part of it 😉 Personally, I like that they didn't try to shoehorn him into Miles' story. I wouldn't mind them mentioning his name when they talk about Miles' redemption but except for funny cameos I wouldn't want him to appear. I like how much else Miles has going on completely independent from Phoenix, as it should be, since Miles isn't involved in every single thing that happens in the main series either and he has no need to rely on that connection but truly shines on his own character's merit. (More than shines if fandom popularity is any indication...)

I love how they refer to Miles as "the prosecutorial prodigy". Anyone who's played the series knows who and how impressive he is but it certainly doesn't hurt to advertise it a little bit 😉

They also mention that the game won't take place inside the courtroom (for the most part, anyway) but directly at the crime scene. Also a fundamental difference worth mentioning for the first spin-off of its kind and the reason for the "Investigations" subtitle.

The cheeky "Luckily for him" is wonderful! 😂 Yeah, I bet Miles is really happy about the murder in his own office and how quickly everything escalated over these few days! Especially because he already solved a murder on the plane he flew home with and another one pretty much immediately after where he was also hit over the head and kidnapped for a while! So technically for him the story doesn't actually start with the murder in his office but the game does and it's a fitting introduction (and tutorial case) so it's perfectly fine.

Little sidenote here, I love that the entirety of Investigations 1 takes place over just a few days. It's kinda insane how much happens but even more insane is how much Miles accomplishes in that time! He takes down an international smuggling ring that has been chased by law enforcement for over 10 years after having learned of its existence a mere three days ago and solves five (!) separate murders during that time! Miles' very eventful, very busy week 😄 (and Investigations 2 takes place not that long after).

To conclude they give a little teaser of what happens in the first case of the game with a gunshot ringing out in the dead of night and Miles pondering the question why his own office of all places. It's a great opening mystery which the game fully delivers on. You get a few hints over the course of the other cases but you only truly solve it towards the end of the final case together with a great amount of other mysteries. The timeline of the cases is a bit unusual but not really confusing and does a great job of building up tension and intrigue and then delivering the pay-offs in the end. Not to mention the amazing intro to the game with Miles confronting the intruder in his own office! Epic start to an epic story!

[chirpsythismorning]

I think people are just coping or trying to cope. Realistically it is very unlikely that we could get the season that fast. They have not even started filming yet. Almost all actors have other projects. They could get some actors earlier but it is expected that the scheduling will create problems, even if the actors have ST as their priority on their sheat... it is not really realistic to just get all actors on set. And the filming will last probably about 7-8 months (at best) and then there will be editing CGI stuff... which could take 10 months or so... yeah. So, do the math, and i did not even mention the potential writers strike thing. I do not think they'd want to rush things anyways, this is the last season, they'd want it to make sense and with a solid editing+CGI. That takes kinda... 10 months or so, and the promo has to also happen. Realistically we'll get the season in 2025. Early 2025 if we are lucky.

I agree! And I completely get where they're coming from.

I struggle with deciding if I should be honest about what I think realistically. Is it something that's disappointing and so people are just going to reject it, even despite the evidence bc it's not what they want? And if that's the case, what even is the point bc I obviously don't want to upset people or stress them out.

All I'm trying to do is think logically, so that way we can be prepared instead of disappointed over and over and over again. And tbh, telling ourselves the best possible case scenario is the most likely case scenario, is just setting ourselves up for even harsher disappointment.

I know 1 year and 10ish months seems like a lifetime from now, but it really isn't. We're going to be much more sad once it's over and we won't ever be able to see these characters again. The Duffers don't want to ruin the magic of Stranger Things, meaning there will be no reboots with these actors ever again in official canon. At best, we could get something animated, and that's at best. If anyone joins a literal live-action spin-off/reboot, it's unlikely to be someone from the MAIN main cast, as they'll have plenty of work opportunities after it's over. They also vouch for the ending of s5 being perfect. Which is why I think they wouldn't want to risk its eternal quality being ruined solely for a cash grab with a reboot set in the 2000's of them being re-traumatized all over again, essentially taking away all meaning and depth to s5's ending. It's just not happening (good thing we have fan-fiction).. ,

So again, once it premieres and it's over, there will be no more theorizing or getting excited for canon content beyond harmless fodder. I try to think about it that way when I get sad about waiting and it does honestly make me feel a little bit better. Bc surprises are arguably the best part of this experience. And so once there are no more left to be had, what even is there!!?

Although on that same note, once it's over, with the revelations all out in the open, they'll all finally be able to talk about things they couldn't during the shows run. So it will still be fun for fans that want to stick around for a while post-s5, but that also won't last forever. People will move on. Every phase of this experience is something we will look back on and wish we appreciated more, including hiatus right now. We will miss these times, when so much was still unknown and there was so much to hope and look forward to. The unknown is one of the best parts.

I do understand wanting to get closure sooner than later too though, bc waiting can sometimes feel like wasted time almost?

I will say that personally this is a good wake up call for me bc I do want to step back a little bit and focus on crafting major posts instead of like daily shit posts. I have so many in my drafts waiting for ?hrs of editing to be posted. Sometimes I find time for them, but then I get distracted and just end up making a random shit post instead. And so maybe it would be good to try to shift my focus to something more casual so that I can enjoy this experience more long-term instead of it feeling like an obligation more or less.

Not saying I'll be gone for months at a time. Quite frankly, if there's news to be reported, I want to be of the first to know, so I couldn't really leave permanently even if I wanted to... the FOMO would eat me alive.

[purefandomonium]

Connection Part 14-Intervention

“Leann? Can you hold on a minute? I’d like to talk with you.”

The teen in question froze at the bottom of the stairs, hand resting on the rail. “What is it? I kinda have homework so…” She gave the backpack a shake for emphasis.

“This’ll only take a few minutes.” Katherine gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa.

Leann braced for the worst. If her mother was seeking conversation, it likely wasn’t good. If she gestured for her to sit down, it definitely wasn’t good. She took her place on the end of the sofa and set her bag by her feet.

Katherine took a silent breath before starting. “Listen, sweetheart, I know you love those old games of yours. I have nothing against it,” she added when Leann looked ready to give a rebuttal. “All I ask is that you don’t get so caught up in your… projects. Your room’s a mess—heck, you’ve been a mess lately.”

“Gee, thanks…”

“Leann, I’m only saying this for your own good. I don’t care what you want to do with your free time, just don’t be so messy about it. Between that disaster you call a bedroom and the way you overslept today I’m a bit worried there might be a pattern emerging.”

Leann did not mention the fact that her mother being so unbothered by how she spent her free time was in and of itself an issue. She knew better than to try and defend herself in any way; it always ended up circling back to her somehow regardless of the approach.

‘You don’t have any friends because you’re such a hermit.’

‘You don’t have any interesting hobbies aside from playing with goofy little computer games.’

‘Bullying? You said you don’t even talk to anyone at school, how can they be bullying you?’

“Ok, Mom,” was all Leann said before standing. “Can I go do my homework now?”

Katherine sighed, knowing full-well her words did nothing to break through her daughter’s stubbornness, and waved her off.

Leann trudged up the stairs without another word and when she was in the safety of her ‘disaster’ she latched the door and tossed her bag to the side of the bed.

Her heart jumped when she saw the GameBoy folded atop the night table. Biting back any foul language she immediately moved to open it.

Red was there the moment she flipped the screen up.

RED: Hey.

She heaved out a sigh of relief. “Why was the game shut?” The switch was in the off position and yet…

RED: Your mom was in here. She seemed annoyed you left the game on and tried to turn it off.

Her brows creased. “It… It is off though. The switch is-”

RED: I know. I didn’t want to go out again. So I pretended to shut down the game.

Now her head was spinning. “But… But the switch is still off? How can you override it like that?” Turning the screen off during regular gameplay was one thing. To override the physical function of the power switch was another. It had to be broken. Something wasn’t connecting or it wasn’t reading correctly. She flipped it a few times.

Nothing happened, aside from Red seeming rather smug from his new trick.

RED: See?

“Ok… Well… Whatever.” Normally it would be weird, but at this point it was just typical Red behavior. If he could exist as a sentient and sapient entity within the confines of a game, why not have even more strange quirks to go with it? She couldn’t afford to get hung up on every little thing he did. It would drive her insane.

She opted to fall back onto the bed with a dramatic flourish. “My mom thinks I spend too much time being a game junkie,” she said suddenly, arm draped across her face. She brought the GameBoy up to read Red’s response. “She’s not wrong. I have been spending worrying amounts of time locked in here with you. Can’t imagine it would go over well if she ever found out why. ”

RED: Why are you telling me this?

What was she getting at? His irrational fear hit him like a tidal wave.

Leann didn’t notice his internal panic and shrugged. “No reason. I just wanted to vent.” It took her a few moments to sense the tension. “Are you ok, Red?” Was he afraid?

RED: …….

RED: You aren’t gonna lock me away, are you?

She sat up. “ What?” It came out as a whispered gasp. “Why would I do that?”

RED: You said your mom was getting suspicious. I don’t want her to find out about me.

“She won’t. What? Did you think I was gonna ‘lay low’ by stuffing you in a closet and forgetting you exist?”

Nothing.

Her humorous mood dried up at the lack of response. “…Oh… I’m sorry, Red, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re really scared of that, huh?”

RED: I know I was never more than some character to them. Just a puppet for them to abuse.

RED: …But it still hurt every time they stopped coming back. Even if they did more harm than good…

“Aw, no way, Red. I would never do that to you. You’re my friend and the only person I know who isn’t a jackass.” She hoped her smile looked brighter than it felt.

RED: Thanks.

Part 13: here

Part 15: here

[hey-imma-fangirl]

Y’all can choose the ending!

All Hallows Eve

The Devil snuck into the kitchen, Cuphead on her tail. The demon queen cautiously looked back and fourth, not seeing any sign of anyone around. She turned to the girl behind her, placing her finger to lips. Cuphead nodded. The Devil crept forward, towards the bowl of candy. The old floorboards threatening to give away their positions. She reached into the bowl, still looking to make sure the coast was clear. She took out out a lollipop and a peanut butter and chocolate candy, offering the peanut buttery chocolate treat to Cuphead. The girl shook her head vigorously, making a quiet 'yuck!' sound. The Devil rolled her eyes to the ceiling and got a different treat and handed it to her, not taking no for an answer this time. They tried their best to open their sweets quietly, the wrapping making that almost impossible.

"Do I hear candy wrappers being opened?" Queen Dice hollered from the other room.

The two of them froze in their spots, panicking as they had been found out.

"ABANDON SHIP- " Cuphead scrambled out of the room.

Queen Dice entered the room, glaring at the Devil, the demon smiling sheepishly at her, the lollipop in her mouth.

"Dev, I know you love candy, but this candy isn't for you!"

"I don't see the point in sharing it."

"It's a Halloween tradition."

"It's candy."

"Even so, it's for the trick or treaters."

The Devil huffed, crossing her arms. Dice shook her head and lifted the bowl from the counter with one hand and held the Devil's face in the other to give her a smooch.

"You can have the left over candy."

"If there is any." The Devil muttered bitterly.

"There will be," Queen Dice gave her a reassuring smile. "We're giving it out here at the Casino, the place children are warned not to go to."

"Then why are we doing it?"

"It's fun!" Queen Dice walked off with the candy. "Now go get ready."

Devil grumbled but did as she was told.

Mugma'am stood in front of her mirror, admiring her hard work on the costume for the past month. She was happy she could finally use the sewing kit Elder Kettle had given to her so many years ago. She spun around, watching the cape spin with her.

The door swing open, Cuphead stumbled through it, pinning herself against the closed door, obviously out of breath.

"Cuphead! Don't you know how to knock?!" Mugma'am stamped her foot at her sister.

"Sorry, but between this and Queen Dice' rage; I choose life." Cuphead replied, her mouth full.

"Why would Mrs. Dice be- " Mugma'am started, her answer right in front of her. "Are you eating candy?"

"Yep. The Boss and I snuck some- kinda..."

"Cuphead! We're literally gonna go trick or treating in 15 minutes! Why don't you got your costume on?" Mugma'am placed a hand in her hip. Cuphead's eyes widened as she looked down, still in her regular outfit. She looked back to her sister and raced out the door. Mugma'am shook her head and faced her reflection once more.

"Why'd she try to barricade the door with herself?" She asked her reflection, shaking her head. "It opens outwards... Queen Dice would've been able to get in..."

"Remember girls, " The Devil held the sisters by their shoulders as they began to leave. "We  take the phrase 'trick or treat' very seriously in this household."

"Got it."

"Right."

"If they don't give you a treat, you trick the hell outta them, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now go have fun!" Queen Dice opened the door for them.

"We'll be back later." Mugma'am turned to Dice.

"Just be careful."

"We will."

"Now get going, make your momma proud!" The Devil smirked at the girls.

"I AM THE GOD OF DESTRUCTION!" Cuphead ran down the steps, tripping midway down. "I'm ok!"

Mugma'am and Dice sighed, Cups' sister gripping the bridge of her nose.

"Keep track of her."

"I will, see you later!"

The Inkwell Isles was busy with kids and parents getting ready for Trick or Treating. Older kids either walked their younger siblings around or played tricks on those who weren't giving out candy. Yes, Halloween was a holiday taken very seriously in Inkwell. Surely something that was taught by the Devil herself- that wouldn't be surprising at all. Most homes had learned their lessons in the past and gave out candy or at least small cakes. Though some still refused to give out candy and of course, paid the price.

Cuphead and Mugma'am headed through town to gather their friends so they could start their own Trick or Treating.

"I hope that old lady don't give me raisins this year." Cuphead grumbled. "Or I'm gonna put wax all over her porch."

"Cuphead!" Mugma'am whipped around to face her sister. "You can't do that!"

"Technically, that's trick or treating rules."

"Technically, that's not a trick, that's a crime! Also, she technically still gives us a treat. Raisins or not, it's a treat."

"What?!"

"If she gives us raisins," Mugma'am rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Mac or I will be willing to trade a piece of candy for it."

"You're well aware that the only fruit Mac eats is apples, and it's because of a sick, twisted joke she plays." Cuphead wrinkled her nose.

"That's why I'm her best friend and you're not. 'Cuz if you were, you'd know that she likes all kinds of fruit. But yes. She eats apples as a sick joke."

The two went further into town and soon into the countryside, near where they had lived only a few years ago. Normally, they had no reason to go that far into the woods, unless they needed something from the cottage it were visiting the... Well a certain grave.

Chalice had given them very clear instructions, however, to meet the rest of the group deep in the woods, next to the old dogwood tree.

"Do we have to go this far into the woods?" Cuphead asked behind Mugs.

"You sound scared."

"I'm not scared!" Cuphead snapped. "I'm just... Uneasy."

"Oh come on!" Mugma'am turned around to walk backwards. "We lived in these woods all our lives, you know them like the back of your hand."

"There's a lot of things that are... Unnerving about the woods." Cuphead lowered her head and crossed her arms. Mugma'am's face softened as she sighed and extended a hand to Cuphead.

"Come on, it's ok." She took Cups' hand. "As your little-big-sis, I'll protect you."

"What do you mean by that? Little-Big-Sis?"

"Well, I'm younger than you- by a few short minutes- but I'm taller." Mugma'am smirked while Cups furrowed her eyebrows. Mugma'am snickered, stopping in her tracks by a twig breaking deep in the woods, off the path and deep in the tree line. Cuphead slid closer to Mugs, both of them shaking.

Another twig broke, on the other side of the path.

"Mugsy... I don't like this..."

"Me neither."

The Devil scurried through the kitchen, rummaging through all the cupboards and cabinets to get her hands on the candy bowl. Queen Dice had told her not to touch the candy, but since when did Dice have the power to tell her what to do? Devil was the Boss after all.

Luci finally found the candy hidden in one of the cabinets, placing it on the table. She stopped short, noticing less candy was there then she had seen last. To which, she simply shook her head and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Cuphead had probably stolen a few pieces before she had left the Casino. She carefully and quietly reached into the bowl, looking around as she opened the candy. A knock at the door made her jump.

"What?!" She swung the front door open, expecting to see a greedy bastard at the door wanting to gamble. Instead, her eyes drifted down to a couple of children, brother and sister most likely. "What do you two want?"

"Trick or treat!" They said in unison.

"What??"

"Do you have any candy, Miss Lady?" The boy asked, holding up his bag, his sister following in suit.

"Uhm..." The Devil glanced back at the candy dish. "I don't think."

"Awe man!" The girl stamped her foot, tears in her eyes. "There's been no houses with candy on this block!"

"It's ok, sis, we'll find some on the next block."

The Devil bit her lip, lowering her head in defeat and let out a deep growl in the back of her throat.

"Fine! Fine! I was... Joking. Just... Just gimme a sec." The brats perked up, hopeful, as the Devil got the bowl from the counter end crouched down to be level with them. "Just take one, you freeloaders. And don't go spreading around that I'm giving out candy to little brats." The children gasped, doing as they were told and only taking one.

"Thank you ma'am!"

"Yeah, thank you, you're the best!"

The kids ran off, as the Devil's eyes blinked quickly. She slowly stood up straight, but didn't move from the spot on her doorstep. It wasn't until the children were out of sight that she turned to go back into the house inside the Casino, a small smile creeping on her face.

Cuphead hid behind Mugma'am, the girl putting her arm out in attempt to shield her sister. Whatever was in the woods drew nearer with each twig snap. Cups jumped with every break of twigs and step, Mugsy shaking but still trying to stay calm-

That is until they heard a thump;

"Ow!"

"Chalice, you idiot!"

Mugma'am and Cuphead exchanged glances, their adrenaline calming down. The other two- plus another- friends emerging from the woods.

"Guys, what the hell?!" Cuphead thundered at the others.

"What?" Mac asked, as if it weren't obvious.

"You scared us half to death!" Mugma'am furrowed her eyebrows. "Why were you guys walking through the woods?"

"It's quicker to go through the woods than on the trail," Chalice said, pulling a twig out of his curly hair- he had most likely fallen from the looks of his now dirty costume and hair. "Besides, who doesn't like a bit of danger?" He smirked flicking the twig back in the woods. Mugma'am got a glance of the third person, her blood boiling.

"Never mind that, let's just go." Cuphead turned on her heel, the others following in tow. Mugma'am caught Chalice by the arm and drew him back;

"You guys invited Bowlgirl?" Mugma'am hissed into his ear.

"I didn't invite her!" He snapped back quietly. "We found her in the woods and Mac felt bad leaving her there, so..." Chalice rubbed the back of his neck. "Ok I guess we did invite her then."

"Chalice!" Mugma'am said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry!" He furrowed his eyebrows, offended. "Look, maybe she won't be a bother, we might not even notice her there." Mugma'am grumbled as Chalice walked off, catching up with the others. She angrily followed the others back through the woods and towards town.

The Devil found herself waiting by the door, holding the candy bowl, convincing herself she was only there to eat the candy herself- not to give it out to the children. Another knock came at the door, Devil excitedly opening it, a group of kids on her doorstep. They went as pale as ghosts and petrified, as Lucifer herself opened the door, throwing a big, jagged toothed-smile at the group.

"Hello!" She said, a couple of the children backing away. She knelt down and offered the candy bowl to them, all of them refusing to move.

"Go on, it's not poisoned or anything." She chuckled. "Dice made sure of that."

The one child in the front carefully reached into the bowl with a shaking hand, the others following in suit, one by one.

"Thank you." A girl muttered from the back of the group, the children awkwardly walking away.

Luci stood up and rolled her eyes, slamming the door behind her. She took a piece of candy out of the bowl and unwrapped it, realizing how long it had been since she had last seen her wife. And she needed cuddles.

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[mypoisonedvine]

peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​'s 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.  

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in.  It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand.  “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry.  Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order.  “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly.  With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space.  If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you.  “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down.  Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book.  “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly.  “My presence tends to have that effect on people.  Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book.  “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly.  “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted.  “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again.  “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that.  She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language.  He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.  

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler.  It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window.  He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice.  You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.  

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any.  It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.  

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him.  "Why don't you just give me a chance?  Don't you wanna be popular?" 

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid.  "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little.  "Are we still on that, really?  I told you, you should take it as a compliment.  You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are.  You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever.  "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer.  “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you.  “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go.  Okay?  That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further.  “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed.  “Then you can leave.  Hey, you might actually like it.  You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it!  When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level.  Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening.  “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper.  “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this.  A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged.  For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger.  For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss.  You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.  

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him.  But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality.  With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.  “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously.  “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too?  We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream.  “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley.  Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled.  “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act.  I know you want me.  So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay?  You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose.  But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter.  "You and this perfect body of yours.  This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred.  “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right?  You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly.  “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps.  The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally.  He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them.  “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind.  You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin.  Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly.  “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh?  You need it that bad?  You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch.  Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again.  He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too.  “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly.  You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore.  But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him.  It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off.  Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.  For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.  

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster.  “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now.  Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses.  “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect.  I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised.  He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly.  “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: Sorry, but this has been living in my brain rent free too, my commission info is here

* Honey if you’re tall with a big butt-

* You’ve got his heart the second he lays eyes on you

* Like everything he is and everything he will be -

* Baby you can have it all if you’ll agree to be his

* If you’re not tall with a big butt, well don’t worry Yuuji’s still going to adore you it just takes a little time

* It’s not so much because he doesn’t think your smoking hot or anything-

* It’s just, well, Yuji’s kinda dumb

* So anyone outside of his immediate go-to type, it just doesn’t register in his brain

* You can bet your ass he’ll say dumb crap like-

* “Friends can hold hands right?”

* Or

* “Friends kiss sometimes, no big deal!”

* But don’t worry babe, it might take a little while, but eventually he’ll notice all these feelings he’s been categorizing as “friendly” feelings and “positive” feelings are actually Romantic feelings

* Once he finally figures it out, you won’t have to wait long-

* “Oi, (Y/N/N), want to be my lover?”

* Like seriously, not even a second after he has this ‘monumental’ realization

* After that things are pretty easy between you two

* It’s not like much has changed, he’s still your friend, and he doesn’t act any different-

* You guys were holding hands and, apparently, kissing before you were officially dating

* It’s not even that he’s greedy with the way he touches you or anything-

* I think the only thing that does change is that Yuji makes an effort to spend more time with you

* “Oi, wanna go to Shibuya this weekend? There’s a Taiyaki store I’m dying to go too”

* He makes an effort to spend time with you even when he’s not around, like sending you texts and voicemails when he’s away

* Part of the reason he’s so insistent on spending as much time with you as possible is probably because he’s not sure how much time he has left

* I think, Yuji is a really simple guy who sees the good in everyone, so he’s also kind of attracted to anyone given the right circumstances

* But I think, he especially wants someone compassionate

* Someone who will hold him during depressive episodes where he’ll wonder- what if I hadn’t joined the occult club? What if he had played track like everyone wanted? What if he had just minded his own business

* What if Megumi hadn’t followed him to the hospital that day, how different would his life be right now

* And it’s the same regret and remorse that fuels his cursed energy, but for some reason it feels like it’s magnified right now

* It feels like he might drown in this despair

* During those days you just hold him, whispering good things about the world.

* Soft things that’ll help him right now-

* Something to give him hope

* “Hot tea on a cold day” you whisper

* “The feeling of basking in sunlight after a cloudy day”

* There’s a moment of silence as you think of something else to say

* “The smell of rain, and fresh cut grass” he’ll mumble back, and you grin

* “Getting Taiyaki in Shibuya with someone you love” you reply with a grin

* “With ice cream filling and boba?”

* You laugh, what a weird combination

* “Anything you want”

* Yuji’s not the one that’s hard to get along with tbh, the one you have trouble with is Sukuna

* “You know you’ll never save him, I don’t know why you’re trying so hard”

* You would hit Sukuna if it didn’t mean slapping Yuji’s cheek too

* “Shut up what do you know”

* Honestly Yuuji’s a little surprised at the hatred Sukuna shows you

* “Shouldn’t you be happy they’re around?”

* For one because you’re around there’s been more *clears throat* romantic incidents, which of course always leave Yuji in a pretty vulnerable state

* He’s only an orgasm away from having Sukuna take over tbh

* And besides-

* You’re his weakness

* They say the sun is 92 million miles away, but he swears his sun is walking in front of him on the in Shibuya, his hand held firmly in yours

* If anything ever happened to you-

* He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, he wouldn’t be able to go on anymore.

* And that’s when the curse that lives inside him wins

* So he really doesn’t get why Sukuna’s acting like this is the worst thing to ever happen to him

* Sukuna opens an eye on Yuji’s cheek

* “I hate their kind most of all, even more than Jujutsu Sorcerers” he grumbles

* He really does hate you-

* He hates that you’re kind

* He saw your type all the time at his harem, some lowly thing relatives had sold off for money and honor-

* Or a prize from a nation he conquered

* Some dumb creature that thought you would get a reward for sacrificing yourself

* Truly idiotic

* The worst part is he’s starting to like those little fantasy’s you spin for Yuji

* He can feel the sunlight warning his skin after a cold day

* He can taste the heavy condensation of the steam that wafts off of his cup of tea, brushing against his face. The heat in direct contrast to the cold winter air

* And it hurts him to know he probably won’t feel like that again, not for a long time

* Not with you helping Yuji work through his negative feelings like you do

* So he hates you

* He hides his contempt in general, it only leaks out through an occasional insult

* “Where’s your kindness now?” He’ll jeer when you’re having a bad day

* Only for Yuuji to smack his cheek to get him to shut up

* “Ah, don’t pay any attention to him. He’s just grumpy”

* For the most part it’s nothing you can’t handle

* Really you kind of forget he’s there most of the time, until one day you see Sukuna pop out and take a bite of your Taiyaki as you hold it out to Yuji who said he wanted to taste the flavor

* “Oi that was mine!” Yuji screeches, slapping his own face while Sukuna smiles from his hand

* “You just like torturing me don’t you?” He weeps, and you offer him sympathetic pats on the back, giving him another bit of your Taiyaki

* He continues on about how Sukuna just loves to torment him, and honestly why can’t they get along when they share a body

* But your mind is elsewhere

* The next time Sikuna see’s you is when Yuji’s sleeping, the damn brat snores so loud he’s considering throttling him just to get some peace and quiet

* That’s when he hears the door creak, seeing you curling inside around it, a plastic bag in hand

* Great, the perfect end to the perfect day

* “The brats sleeping” Sukuna grumbles from Yuji’s hand-

* He would have spoken from his face but the only thing more annoying than having to deal with Yuji’s snores is having to hear the lovey-dovey crap tumble from his lips when he talks to you

* He figures you’ll leave, or maybe curl up against Yuji on the bed but instead you kneel down, your hand dipping into the plastic bag

* “I’m not here for him,” you start pulling out a Taiyaki.

* “You wanted one right?” That’s why he took a bite, because he wanted to try it too

* Though, annoying Yuji was probably an added bonus

* You hold up the Taiyaki to Sukuna’s ‘mouth’

* And he’s overcome with emotion

* It’s not like he hasn’t had concubines from his harem feed him a great number of things before -

* Like he hasn’t ever felt the tender act from one of his many lovers -

* So he hates that you’re the one that’s bringing out all these emotions in him

* And as he takes a bite from the Taiyaki he finally admits it-

* If you were in his harem, a moronic kind fool like you were one of his lovers

* You would be his favorite

* And that’s why he hates you so much

* Because just like Yuji, you’re his weakness

* “It’s not the same flavor” he mumbles

* “Sorry I couldn’t get the ice cream, it would have melted on the way here-“

* Sukuna wouldn’t have minded one bit licking the cream from your fingers, maybe he would even catch that embarrassed face you always make with the damn brat

* “So I got you a custard one, and a chocolate one, and on the off chance you weren’t in the mood for something sweet I got you a curry filled one too”

* You stumble, hand flying into the bag to pull out the other two, holding them up to him

* And despite himself, Sukuna finds the sight quite...cute

* “Well, I suppose these offerings will do for now wench” And his words are harsh, but you smile like the kindhearted fool you are.

* And that’s how Yuji starts getting pestered for “just five minutes alone with their baby”

* “Scared I’ll show them a better time than you can?” Sukuna grins

* Of course he is! Sukuna had a literal harem of lovers. Who knows what kinds of techniques he knows

* But Yuji’s pride won’t let him admit it

* Yuji scoffs

* “I’d rather die again then let you come anywhere near them”

* It’s kind like you’ve got two boyfriends

* One pink haired one that’s the literal personification of sunshine

* And another, more dark and sadistic one

* And it’s sort of a funky little relationship

* But it’s yours

* “I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world” you whisper.

* Your lips brushing against his

* Yuji wouldn’t trade you for anything either

* He loves you ❤️

[harrysgoldenline]

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

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.

___________

[raewritez]

Airbenders

let’s all take a moment to appreciate our windy boy🙌

based on this request: Can you do Aang x airbender reader? When Aang and Katara found out that she hid from them that she could bend ? Please!

warnings: aangsty

It hurts.

Aang’s body felt like it was on fire, and he supposed it was. It seemed like electricity was still flowing through his veins, consuming him with needle points and flame. With Katara’s healing he was slowly gaining back his memory - visions of white glow, of the royal siblings, of waves, and of falling. There was something else, too, it was-

“Ow!”

Katara grimaced, removing her hands from his back. “Sorry, Aang. There’s a lot of energy built up in here.”

He winced, curling in on himself. “It’s ok.”

She stares at him worriedly, heart aching for her friend. He felt so awful, so consumed by guilt and failure, and she found herself having trouble coaxing him out of his thoughts. There was one person that could, but they were nowhere to be found. Aang noticed.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Katara breathed shakily, pulling at the edge of her tunic. “Aang…what exactly do you remember from Ba Sing Se?”

He tilted his head, furrowing his brows. "I remember Azula, and I remember I went down. You saved me."

She nodded. "Is that all?"

He leaned into the bed, running a hand through his hair (hair? how long has that been there?). "There's something else."

Katara looked nervous, as if preparing for him to do something awful. It made him confused. He searched his mind, digging through flashes of memory until he found what he was looking for. He inhaled sharply. Oh. Right.

They were outnumbered, Dai Lee agents advancing on them from all directions. Katara's water whips were no use, broken and splashed across the ground by shields of rock and crystal. Aang fought tirelessly, earth and water spinning around him in a flurry of movement. The earth benders only moved forward - creeping slowly upon the Avatar until they were thrown back by some powerful force. Wind. Aang looked down at his hands, he hadn't done that, right? The agents rose to their feet but their eyes weren't on him, rather on something that lurked behind. Turning, his gaze fell upon what had drawn their attention.

You.

Your arms were outstretched, an uncertain expression on your face. You glanced down at your palms in surprise - you certainly hadn't expected that to work so well. His mouth fell open, mind swarmed with confusion. His grey eyes widened, and your gaze met his. You couldn't tell if that look in his eyes was one of betrayal or pure shock, but you felt the guilt you'd been harboring over keeping this secret hit you full-force. Your own eyes were surprised, and they softened as they fell upon him. In them he could see the swimming emotions, and an apology. You raised your arms again.

"They're...they're an Airbender."

Katara looked at the floor, silently affirming his words. He stared at her, then he stood. His body ached and his legs wobbled, but he didn't care. He grabbed his staff, and leaning on it, began to make his way towards the door.

"Wait, Aang," Katara exclaimed, attempting to calm him. The look on his face was foreign; eyes glinting with sadness and something she couldn't quite decipher. And anger. It was a rare emotion to see displayed by the boy, but it was there now, although faint. She was nervous for you, her own anger since passed and replaced with a sort of resigned understanding. Sure, she was upset, hurt that you didn't trust her with this secret, but she guessed she understood. At least she tried to.

"Aang, your injuries are still healing. You can't-"

"I'm fine, Katara," he spoke, and she felt a chill run through her bones at the sternness. "Let me go."

He pushed past her, holding in his groans at the effort. He walked as quickly as he could down the hall, mind pulsing with adrenaline and determination. He didn't have to ask where your room was, he knew where it would be: at the end of the hall by the windows, so you could see the ocean. He limped his way down, the silk robe threatening to fall off his shoulders. In front of your door, he stopped. He breathed, and then he entered.

You were seated on your bed, staring blankly at the wall. You glanced tiredly at the intrusion, eyes widening when you saw it was him. You stood abruptly, almost tripping over yourself and if the circumstances were different he would've laughed. You missed his laugh. Instead he gazed at you, expression neutral. You felt nervous, unfamiliarly awkward under the Avatar's stare.

"Hi, Aang."

He kept his eyes trained on you, eyebrows furrowed. He was silent.

"Um...h-how are you feeling?"

"You didn't come to see me."

Your eyes widened. "W-what?"

His gaze never faltered. "You didn't come to check on me."

"Oh," You breathed, casting your eyes to the floor. "I didn't...I didn't know if you'd want me to."

He didn't speak, and you could feel him scrutinizing you. As if he didn't know what to make of you, as if he wasn't sure what to think. And in all honesty he probably didn't. You didn't know what to think of yourself, either.

"You're an Airbender." It wasn't a question, just a statement. An observation.

You breathed. "Yeah."

He stood a little taller, and you could finally make out an emotion. Anger. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than him acting as if you were Koh the freaking Face-Stealer. His voice was low. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed nervously, fingers coming to play with the fishing-line bracelet he'd made for you that rested upon your wrist. "I don't know."

He scoffed, beginning to pace around the room. Well, as well as he could considering his condition. "That's not an answer. How could you keep that from me?!" There was a desperation to his tone, and his eyes were glassy. You looked away, unable to deal with the shame.

"Aang, please, I-" You didn't know what to say. You truly didn't quite understand why you'd hidden it, the secrecy just fading into habit. "I was...I was scared. I didn't know what to say or- I'd never told anyone before! And then you came and I..."

"And you didn't tell me."

His face was darkened, so different from that sunshiney demeanor that you'd grown so goddam fond of. But behind his anger was a certain brokenness - a disbelief. And that hurt more than the rage.

He didn't give you time for an explanation, and you weren't sure you had one to offer anyway. He simply walked away, sparing you one more hurtful glance. Then, he left, taking the light and hope with him. You felt tears sting your eyes, but you forced them away. You didn't deserve to cry. You were the one who'd hurt him, who'd betrayed his trust. And now you weren't sure if your best friend would ever trust you again, ever allow you a second chance. So, instead of crying, you simply laid in the dark warmness of your bed, rocked to sleep by the swaying of the ocean with an ache in your chest.

///

A week.

That's how long it'd been since the two of you talked, since Aang had so much as glanced in the direction of his best friend. You were in the Firenation now, having assumed the role of undercover criminals. It was kind of exhilarating, and you knew you and Aang would be milking the drama of it for all its worth. But instead you sat alone, sidled in the corner of the cave as your friends danced.

Aang had somehow managed to enroll himself in a Fire Nation school, and had invited his classmates to your hideout for a dance party. You wished you had enough energy to participate - to twirl around with Katara or do the limbo with Sokka, but you were drained. Just like you'd been for days. Your hope was waning; you were becoming less and less sure that Aang would find a way to forgive you - that he would return to his best friend with that lopsided smile and endless generosity, the way he came to you all those times before. Now, he was dancing, shoulders brushing against that Fire Nation girl's - On ji? Something like that - while the rest of the kids laughed and cheered. It send an ache to your heart. He seemed happy with her - happier than he's been with you. He was sporting that contagious grin, that boisterous laughter, that-

"Wow, you really are mopey."

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Toph. "I'm not mopey," you grumbled.

She snorted. "Uh, yeah you are. I can practically feel the pitifulness radiating off you."

"Gee, thanks a lot."

You were silent for a moment, and she seemed to soften. "You know, he's not mad at you anymore."

You glanced over, a scoff escaping your lips. "Yes he is, Toph. He hates me."

Her eye-roll was about the biggest you'd ever seen. "Don't be stupid, Sap. That kid loves you. It's so obvious it's gross."

You sighed, shaking your head. You pulled your knees to your chest. "Not anymore. I lied to him."

She nodded, seeming thoughtful. "Well, yeah, that kind of sucked. And obviously he would be kinda mad about that. But he's not anymore, trust me. I can feel it."

"You can feel it?"

"Mhm. He's mopey, too. He misses you."

You looked over to the center of the cave, where Aang was demonstrating some bizarre dance movement. You smiled fondly.

"Seriously, Y/n. You should talk to him."

You nodded, breathing in your resolve. "I will soon."

Toph groaned loudly. "Well, I guess that's as good as we're gonna get."

///

Spirits, you were exhausted. A day of cleaning out a river will do that to you.

It'd been a few days since the dance party, and your time had been occupied with Appa's "sickness" while you stopped at a local fishing village. It was pretty gross, but with your friend's help and Katara's fancy costume, you were able to leave it better than it was when you arrived.

Now, you found yourselves at yet another designated campsite - a patch of ground near the cliffside, overlooking the valley. You were tired, and so much as walking around felt like a chore.

Your eyes fell on a silhouetted figure perched on the edge of the cliff. Momo sat on his shoulder. You breathed, body growing alight with nervousness. You made your way over, Momo launching onto you when you got closer.

You chuckled, petting his furry head. "Hey, Momo," you said softly. You eyes flickered upwards, latching onto Aang's. He turned away. You sighed, setting Momo down and moving to sit next to him. You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself for impending rejection. You fidgeted with the edge of your shirt - a movement that his eyes quickly locked onto.

"Um, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, and that's ok, but I need to...I need to explain myself."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him nod slowly.

"My whole life I had to keep my bending a secret, and nobody's ever known except my parents. And when I met you...I don't know. I guess I was just scared. I thought I was going to be the last one for the rest of my life. I'd been hiding and denying that I was an Airbender for so long, and I guess I just...felt safer to keep doing that."

He was silent, staring at you intently with concentration and an emotion you couldn't decipher. You continued.

"The point is, I should've told you. And I'm so, so sorry that I didn't. I don't know if you could ever forgive me, but I-"

You were cut off by the press of his lips against your own. Your eyes widened, and you sat rigidly still. He chuckled breathily at your shock, moving his hand to gently caress your cheek. You relaxed, leaning into his palm and letting your eyes fall shut. After a moment, he pulled away.

"I'm not mad at you, Y/n."

You were still frozen with pleasant surprise. "Oh...ok."

He laughed, reaching to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiled adoringly.

"But wait - how aren't you mad? I kept this a secret from you, and I-"

"Well, I was mad," he cut you off. "But I'm not anymore. If there's anything that we can take away from this, it's that you're not the last Airbender. And neither am I."

You smiled at that. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He pulled you into his side, keeping one arm around you while he performed random tricks; like making a whirlpool or air or sending a small tornado Sokka's way. You leaned into each other to muffle your giggles when he fell. You felt happier than you had since Ba Sing Se - filled with the happiness that only Aang could provide you. You had his trust, and his guidance, and you weren't alone. Neither of you were.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Bubblegum Lip Balm

me? projecting? lol no yearning? never but if anyone wants to get high and platonically make out with me at sunset overlooking the san juans then applications are open

Pairing: Geraskier, non relationship, roomies with benefits kinda?

Warnings: devil’s lettuce consumption (weed), making out in public, getting high in public, technically this could be a felony in some states, even more reason to give it a go, but thats all

________________________

Geralt walked up behind Jaskier and just about threw his backpack on the ground, wrinkling and bunching the blanket Jaskier had laid out on the side of the hill. Still, his roommate didn’t move, staring out over the mouth of the sound a couple hundred feet below them. Everything was starting to glow in that specific shade of gold that only really happens on coastal evenings at the end of summer and a gentle breeze was blowing the fresh sea air up to them. Admittedly it was beautiful with its crashing waves and cliffs covered in stubborn pines and the occasional oak or madrone, but there was no reason Jaskier should be that entranced.

 It was then Geralt noticed the earbuds and squatted down behind Jaskier so he was just barely a head taller and leaned forward. He was practically hovering over the brunette as he blew a puff of air over his silky soft hair. Jaskier jumped, almost knocking his head into Geralt’s chin, before tilting his head back and smiling brilliantly as he removed his headphones. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Geralt greeted him, tilting his head down and grinning, “Why’d you call me out here?”

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier sighed heavily before answering, “Routine is all well and good Geralt, but don’t you want to actually enjoy life?”

“I enjoy my life just fine,” Geralt grunted as he let himself fall into the open space on the blanket next to Jaskier, spinning to face out over the water. 

Jaskier just waved his hand in the air dismissively as he rifled through his own bag. It took him a minute or two but he eventually found what he was looking for and held a monster joint up for Geralt to admire like it was made of gold. Come to think of it, Geralt was sure weed was better than gold in your late twenties. 

When he just looked between the joint and his roommate Jaskier piped up, “Let’s hit this till we can’t drive and makeout.”

A snort made it out before Geralt could stop it, but thankfully it only seemed to amuse Jaskier even more, “I was going to drive us home.”

“We can call Triss and Eskel.”

“Why?”

Jaskier had clearly expected Geralt’s questions and launched into his logic before the syllable had even left Geralt’s lips, “I’ve had a shitty week. You’ve had a shitty week. Why not be degenerates for a few hours and pretend we don’t have the problems we actually do? And- I’m not done, don’t interrupt- when was the last time you got to just relax and makeout with someone while stoned out of your mind? You don’t even have to worry about calling me or ghosting or giving me a shitty excuse!”

“That was only once,” Geralt defended, taking the joint from Jaskier as he spoke and holding his other hand out for the lighter. 

“You’re just as much of a slut as I am,” Jaskier argued, flipping the cap of his douchey custom lighter and flicking the striker.  

Geralt rolled his eyes as he leaned forward and cupped his hands around the tiny flame, holding the joint between his lips and making sure he got a nice burn going before leaning back and taking a deep inhale. Jaskier mimicked him and leaned back to watch the landscape as they held their breath as long as they could. Geralt could see Jaskier turning red and giving him glances out of the corner of his eyes but he didn’t let his breath out yet. 

Finally, Jaskier caved and did his best to slowly exhale but quickly devolved into a coughing fit that left him even more red-faced. Giving him a shit-eating grin, Geralt blew a perfectly steady stream of smoke out in front of them and only had to cough a couple of times before clearing his throat sufficed. 

“Y’okay there?” he teased, slapping Jaskier on the back as he continued to cough. 

“Fuck- off s-swim team,” Jaskier choked out. 

Plucking the joint out of Jaskier’s hand, Geralt gave him a wink, “My athletic career has nothing to do with it.”

About halfway through the joint, they realized if they finished it they wouldn’t have the mind to call for a ride before the next morning, so Jaskier stamped it out on a nearby rock and popped it back in its little aluminum tube for later. 

Over time Jaskier had snuggled up to Geralt’s side as they watched the waves crash against the beach on the other side of the inlet. It was the most comfortable he’d been in a while. Between looking for a job that actually used his degree, suffering through a customer service gig, and the nightmare that was dating, he’d forgotten to relax for what felt like years. Hell, it might have been over a year since he’d done something for himself. It had definitely been years since he’d shared a joint with Jaskier. 

Oh, right. Jaskier. They were planning to take advantage of the high somehow. Fuck. What had Jaskier said…

“Hey J…” Geralt murmured, tilting his head so his cheek bumped Jaskier’s temple.

“Hmm?”

“What were we gonna do?” A little giggle built up through the end of his question and he smiled despite himself. 

“Umm…” Jaskier held his note for longer than Geralt thought was humanly possible as a couple late-night joggers passed behind them on the trail, “Oh, we were gonna suck face.”

“Mm, slutty.”

Jaskier gave a few tiny nods in agreement, still not moving from his spot against Geralt’s shoulder. 

Before Geralt really finalized the decision in his head, he’d reached behind Jaskier’s opposite knee and was hauling the yelping and giggling man onto his lap. As he ran his hands up Jaskier’s back and pulled him close enough that their lips could meet, Jaskier snaked his fingers through Geralt’s hair. They both let out a sigh of relief as they sank into each other. Not that they were well practiced in kissing each other, but it was far from their first shared kiss and probably wouldn’t be the last. Both of them knew what the other liked well enough that Geralt was swept up in the kiss for quite some time before he registered something. 

Pulling back and rubbing his lips together, Geralt tilted his head and inspected Jaskier’s mouth, “Did you wear bubblegum lip balm?”

“Mhm,” Jaskier started, nosing at Geralt to get him to tilt his head back up where he wanted him, “knew yours would be chapped.” 

“Wouldn’t have- if -I got a heads -up,” Geralt grumbled between kisses, one hand digging into Jaskier’s hip. 

“Liar.”

Geralt giggled again as he fell backward onto the dry beach grass and pulled Jaskier with him, “Shut up and kiss me.”

And Jaskier did, for hours. 

[shurisneakers]

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch. 

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.” 

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was. 

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them. 

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest. 

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods. 

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist. 

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free. 

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing. 

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack. 

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel. 

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously. 

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.” 

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky. 

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it. 

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again. 

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper. 

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back. 

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house. 

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?” 

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches. 

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t. 

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats. 

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it. 

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects. 

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over. 

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

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