#let's hope that doesn't take another 12 years

[elephantbitterhead]

At long last, I have found a desk that satisifies my seemingly-simple-yet-somehow-actually-impossibly-arcane demands. It's a close cousin to the desk I left behind before moving to Scotland, minus that desk's ~200lb slate top (which is why I rejected the possibility of shipping it here). After 12 years without a desk, I'm looking forward to putting things in drawers & pulling out those little slab shelves.

Its top is also nicely aged/dinged up & I will enjoy running my hands over it -- see below:

It's going to be a tight squeeze to get it into the room where I plan to use it, so let's hope I can channel my crafty-furniture-mover persona (or that the top comes off easily).

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[teenagecriminalmastermind]

mags flanagan was the victor of the 11th hunger games. she is probably one of the last people we know of canonically in the games who directly, vividly, remembers lucy gray baird.

she remembers the girl from district 12, who dropped a snake down someone's dress, who sang a song the day of her reaping as a fuck you to the capitol. the girl who charmed an entire country and won the games using sheer ingenuity.

she probably remembers reports of the capitol boy who served as her mentor, remembers the blond boy who broke the rules and stayed in that zoo enclosure with her. probably remembers the reports of him doing everything he can to save this girl. coriolanus snow. she remembers that name, tucks it away, connecting it with decency and integrity.

she probably, as a young girl, thought that maybe there was some good left in this world. if a capitol boy would put his neck and life on the line for a lowly girl from district 12, who would defy every social rule for her, then maybe there was some hope.

she probably remembers the rumours that floated around after those games, remembers how they said that blond boy ran away to be with her. remembers how no one heard from or about lucy gray baird ever again, and then next year she goes on to compete and win the games.

and then when the victors are made to be mentors, she looks for that girl, lucy gray baird, wonders if she could ask her questions about her games, about her life now, about coriolanus snow, the blond boy who changed the games themselves for her. but she is nowhere to be found. lucy gray baird is now a legend, passed down in hushed tones amongst the ones who still remember her. the girl who charmed an entire arena of snakes, the girl with the guitar, the girl who said nothing they could take from her was worth keeping.

and then she returns year after year, and a decade or so passes until she hears a familiar name. a name she expected died away in district 12 in obscurity, because there is no way the capitol would let his impunity pass unpunished, would they?

but here he is, president coriolanus snow.

she wonders how he's still here, and how he betrayed her memory, betrayed what lucy gray baird stood for, what he once stood for. but there he stands, impassive, cursorily shaking her hand before she stops herself from asking about the girl with the rainbow skirt.

then comes another victor from district 12, and she turns the games on their head, much like her predecessor. mags watches her, wonders if president coriolanus snow is thinking the same thing she is. when the quarter quell rolls around and finnick tells her about the burgeoning spark of a rebellion and how the girl on fire might be the one who fully set it ablaze, she agrees wholeheartedly to return to that arena.

she thinks about telling him about lucy gray baird and her story, but doesn't think he would believe her if she did. when she sees snow again, knowing certain death lies ahead, she finally asks him the question that's rested on her lips for half a century.

she asks him about the girl in the rainbow skirt.

[hoshigray]

Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

[astonmartingf]

THIS IS NOT OUT OF THE BLUE ; YT22

yuki tsunoda x gasly!reader . . . in big brother fashion, pierre wants you to go on a date with yuki to convince him to move closer to milan. however, yuki already lives in milan, and pierre is still not putting the pieces together

amgf see this is what yuki brainrot gets you, i love this omg one of my best works yet, i might come back to this type of format because i am not writing pt2s anymore!!!!!! (lovingly ofc) just like always, enjoy 👍 @viennakarma it's done 🫡

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 12 others

yourusername i get why my brother likes him so much now. he's a fucking child! feels like another day spent with pierre.

view comments...

francisca.cgomes awww they're bonding look pierregasly

pierregasly you had me in the first half, wym a child he's older than you

yourusername doesn't seem like it, seeing how you act, understandable

charles_leclerc oh chérie, what is your brother up to?

yourusername he's up to no good as usual, but if he's constantly yapping to you then you must know what he's up to

charles_leclerc i'm more surprised that you agreed to this?

yourusername he threatened to throw me back to university for a master's degree this time FFS

charles_leclerc well, if it's a master's degree or a date... understandable

yourusername control him please, i can't be the victim of his antics no more

pierregasly he said he had fun!!!

pierregasly now go on another date with him 🫣

yourusername ???? what is actually wrong with you

pierregasly you're acting like you didn't have fun, you even posted it for the whole family to see

yourusername get off my back pierre, my account my rules

pierregasly yeah you constantly yapping to your 20 followers which half are our family members

yourusername i'm blocking you next

pierregasly try me bitch

yourusername oh i will, you are no longer welcome in my account, get out

yourusername uploaded a new story

[he's taking me somewhere... i hope i come out alive 😀]

pierregasly replied to your story

oh my gosh, is this progress?

apparently he's in milan, and now we're on the coast so... i guess

wym he's in milan?

he's here?

he's with me atm but yeah

i saw him earlier and he asked if i was free

did he say ask about me?

sorry pierre 😐

non no, it's fine

i'm a bit sad he didn't contact me but i'm glad you're together

francisca.cgomes replied to your story

a boat date 🥰

it's not a date...

we're just hanging out

uh huh... cool

that's it?

wym?

that's it? you're just letting me off the hook like that? no teasing about being yuki's future lover or smth?

you want me to tease you about it?

non, not really i was just thinking about it

you're thinking about being yuki's future lover?

shut up kika, you know i didn't mean it that way

yeah yeah, sure 😏

you're absolutely telling this to pierre huh?

you know, i'm on your side for this one

your secret's safe with me 😉

what secret?

oh yn, for someone older than me you're a bit out of it but it's okay you'll get it one day 😊

get what?

kika?

what are you talking about?

yukitsunoda511 replied to your story

wow, you don't trust me one bit

i thought we had something going on

yeah right, shut up yuki

am i your boyfriend?

🥺🥹😭

yes

good girl 😊

yourusername uploaded a new story

[it's him again... annoying asf]

yukitsunoda0511 replied to your story

why would you lie to your audience like that?

because it's way more fun this way

duh???

everyday i'm reminded that you are pierre's sister when you pull shit like this

excuse me?

are you calling my soft launching methods shit 😕

i'm just kidding

you totally aren't

you're right, i am not

it's just i didn't think he'd be that dense about it

i'm sure i told him we were dating

he's forgetful like that

don't start talking, you didn't even tell him about us

i did!

uh huh....

well, it's funny to me because look, he's so desperately trying to get us together because we're so perfect for each other (ikr) and if he would've just listened like a year ago he would've known about us already

i mean, even alex knows what's up and she's seen us like twice already

alex has seen us a couple of times, even kika but pierre...

he'll figure it out, it's like he's been waiting so long for us to date, i don't know when he'll realize it

let's pray for him

praying for pierre 🙏

yourusername

liked by yukitsunoda0511, charles_leclerc, and 13 others

yourusername road trip with 💋 + we met alex on her field trip, it's a win 😊

view comments...

alexandrasaintmleux it's nice to see you two ❤️ have fun on your road trip

yourusername ahhhh thank you, we'll see you soonest 😠

charles_leclerc come visit us next time ^^

pierregasly are you in monaco? hello? who is that person 🤨 where are you going? you said to update me? where are my updates?

yourusername i told you where we're going dumbass, check your messages be for fucking real

pierregasly oh you did send me updates

yourusername 🙄

pierregasly OWAH? YUKI IN THE LIKES? liked by yukitsunoda0511!!!!! we're winning today

yourusername what is actually wrong with you?

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511, and 22 others

yourusername milan. my man.

view comments...

pierregasly can't believe i'm finding out through an instagram post and not IRL, fake sister 👎

yourusername is it our fault if you didn't listen?

pierregasly i was already shipping you in my head with yuki, i thought of it first

yourusername okay and? doesn't change the fact that we've been mentioning it for a long time already

yukitsunoda0511 i mean yn is right, i did tell you as well

pierregasly okay everyone is ganging up on pierre for not knowing blah blah blah

francisca.cgomes i mean babe, you are the only one who didn't catch up

alexandrasaintmleux it was clear as daylight, they're not only dating but they're clearly fucking you're so dumb in your own delusions to see

pierregasly okay wow, i'm going to ignore the last few texts but first it was my sister, next my teammate, then my girlfriend, next my friend's girlfriend okay charles i know you're with me here buddy defend me please 🙏

charles_leclerc do you want me to add more salt to the wound? because i agree with all of them...

yourusername see? this didn't just happen out of nowhere, it was already happening and you were just too invested to see the truth

yukitsunoda0511 i look good there, next time i'm posting 😊

yourusername noooo i want to gatekeep you 😠 no no non

yukitsunoda0511 okay, whatever you say goes 🫡

yukitsunoda0511 can i soft launch?

yourusername yes 🥰

[thebeeshaveknees]

Reading the book of Bill and thinking about stanbill (?) post-billford has to be one of the worst takes I've had--

- Bill just got broken up with and then his ex got tossed into another dimension where he cannot be tormented because Bill can't find him in the infinite possibilities

- Stan just got rejected of the last sliver of hope for reconnecting with his family And Then fucked up again and got his brother teleported

- They're both salty and wanna fix the portal but also Stan has Bill read right when they meet (stan's conned before, he knows when someone is trying to bullshit him and he cant get another debt because he cant leave Oregon when it falls through) which has Bill Fascinated because Stanley's supposed to be the dumb brother but his mental fortitude has Bill Itching to see inside his head (sadly Stan refuses to let him in)

- They become a pair of worsties with the most longevity of any worsties in existence - they spend 30 years both squatting in the same person's house and bickering with eachother

- Bill doesn't know Stan inside-out but he knows his favorite food, all 12 seasons of their his favorite telanovella, and how to make him laugh

- Stan knows Bill's a conniving little shit but also he's himself a conniving little shit so he doesn't really mind

[dalliancekay]

"There is no 'our side', Crowley!"

I was looking for this gif and every post I came across was some variation on how poorly was Crowley treated here. Poor boy. How utterly cruel of Aziraphale. How heartless. How he just dropped Crowley like a hot potato. Cos Heaven was coming. And Aziraphale decided that they were over. And he was going back to them. Or something. If you know any that look into how Aziraphale is feeling, please tag me. What do I think Aziraphale is feeling?

Well. Was he happy to have Armageddon coming? No. But he did think it was inevitable.* However. They tried to influence the Antichrist. But had the wrong boy. Then they tried to think of how to find the real one and in that short time - what? Kill him? Talk to him? They had no idea what the kid is like. What powers he has. None.

The Great Plan. It is coming to its fulfilment. It is written. The War is about to begin. Heaven and Hell. The big one. They both know this. And this is not something Aziraphale or Crowley can avoid. It's not something they can just stop believing in. They had their Arrangement, their side (sort of), and they managed not to get caught. But now? Now Aziraphale is right. There is no OUR SIDE. There never really was. There might have been a moment in their existence on Earth (about 12 hundred years?) when they could feel like/pretend they are having their own side. But now the full reality of their existence is back. There are Heaven and Hell and they are preparing for War. They have no interest in Earth. Aziraphale and Crowley are tiny pawns in a very big picture. They both belong to their respective sides. They always have. Even when they found ways to work together. (Mostly cos their sides are conceited idiots both.)

And so Aziraphale decided for one more desperate attempt to get God to see how the whole thing can be avoided. Does he think She might understand? We don't know. Does he look full of hope as he walks back to his shop? He doesn't. He gets broken up with again by Crowley who nonsensically (and yes, romantically, sure) wants to go to another star - to do what? Wait till the end of universe reaches them? (Why is everybody always defending Crowley? And act like he's being reasonable there?) And then Aziraphale gets punched in the stomach. By a fellow angel. And told by Metatron to not be a bloody fool and report for service as the good angel he surely is.

And he gets discorporated. Which looks like it really sucks.

And then he DESERTS the War AND Heaven (that he apparently still has faith in...) and goes on a limb to find the boy and just see if he can come up with something. Anything. Thinking Crowley is gone. Packed his stuff and left. Possibly with the friend he was talking to when he tried to call his flat earlier.

Because Aziraphale feels the War and ending of the world is such injustice. Written or not. Great Plan or not. Maybe he didn't think at first he could make any difference but Crowley showed him it's worth considering it. *Crowley is always showing Aziraphale that things can be questioned. It didn't take Aziraphale long at all to reconsider letting things just play out and instead fight to the last breath he doesn't need, for Earth instead. The conditioning he needs to fight isn't that Heaven is good and right. The conditioning he needs to fight is that things can't be changed. That it is all written out. That he is a nobody and can't influence anything. Aziraphale's biggest fight and learning curve is in having faith in himself. So. Much like he felt it was unfair to leave the first humans unprotected and how he felt killing Job's kids was cruel, he disobeys and does his own thing again. He learns he can. But all this comes at a cost. To himself (thinking he will Fall for these things) but also to his beloved - and THAT is much harder for him. He would never want to put Crowley in danger. And he does. Every time they meet. The guilt he must feel for this.

Aziraphale lives between two sides. And they are both awful. And he is often misunderstood for just acknowledging this as reality he and everything else exists in.

I think his view of his reality is pretty accurate. There is no our side. They wanted one. But they can't leave their sides. Even after S1 they couldn't. Not really. And they both knew it. And no, he is not in clutches of Heaven or sometimes reverts to their indoctrination or anything like that. He goes along with Heaven as far as he MUST. And his life alongside his demon, however tentative, was always precious to him. But.

Crowley who showed him how to keep questioning things, try to make them better, didn't see it his way and left.

Aziraphale has to do the best he can and just do something. Anything. He can not just do nothing. He can not try and run. Or hide. Or wait some more. Crowley showed him that things can be different and Aziraphale had to do all to try and make it better. And he will. And Crowley will help. He always does.

Is Aziraphale always right? No. Does he make mistakes? Yes. I am never saying Aziraphale is faultless - but I think many things he is blamed for are not right. And I also think Crowley is often seen as can do no wrong. Everything he says is right. 100% correct. The right things to do. He knows more. Understands more. If he disagrees with Aziraphale than it follows that Aziraphale is wrong. That's not true. They are both beautifully rounded, full, flawed characters I love. They complement each other in ways I bet I have not even noticed yet. And they are their own beings too. They don't only exist for one another.

[maidragoste]

Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two Chapter Three

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

Tag: @valeskafics @agqrtz

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[nekrosdolly]

boyfriend's dad wesker hcs (18+)

you're sweet and kind, and your boyfriend's dad is... not.

a/n; reader is in their 20's/in college with wesker's kid, jake. wesker is a good dad just not here though! reader is dating jake muller-wesker. albert is a major perv here guys sorry. based on re5 wesker -`♡´-

cw; afab!reader, dom!wesker, lowkey size kink, nonconsensual recording, wesker being a creep, major age gap (12+ years), mentions of smoking and drinking, stalking, breadcrumbing as a manipulation tactic, eventual sex (clit stimulation, fingering, p in v, unsafe sex, cumplay, creampie), dubcon, cheating, grooming (technically), praise and degradation, slight daddy kink (if u squint),

petnames (reader received); dear, darling, sweet girl, dolly

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who has never cared for anyone younger than him, let alone someone as young as his son.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who takes interest in you after his darling son, Jake, brings you home in a hurry to get to bed. he's working in the living room, waiting for his son to come home.

he's not surprised to see his son rush through the front door, but he is, however, surprised to see he brought someone home. he moves his laptop from his lap to stand up and introduce himself the moment he notices you're there. the look on your face is one he's seen before- desire and the unmistakable reddened scleras from smoking weed, all directed at his dopehead son.

"jacob-"

"later, dad." jake rushes you to the basement, where his room is, and you're gone in an instant. it's clear you're just as high as your little boyfriend, gone off a blunt and some vodka. for some reason, that irks him.

he walks over to jacob's door and leans against it, ready to knock with his knuckles just an inch from the door when he hears something come from you. a moan, then a hushed whisper from jacob telling you to be quiet, and another, softer moan from you.

so maybe his face goes red and he sits there for a moment, focused on the way you sound and how loud you get when you cum. he's just as quiet as he was when he approached his son's room while walking away, forgoing his work and retreating upstairs to fist his half-hard cock.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who has a knowing look on his face the next morning, up early as hell just to catch you sneaking out of the house because your dumb boyfriend's still asleep. who's sitting on the couch and sees you looking a little rough, hickies covering your neck and your clothes messed up from your rush to get them on. you're a hungover wreck.

"good morning," his voice startles you, of course it does. you hadn't even noticed him, a residual high from smoking so much weed the night prior making your mind foggy. instead of running, like you want to, you approach the couch, your nerves aflame. why does he look so smug?

"mr. wesker, i-i'm so sorry about last night, it was so rude of me to not introduce myself…" you're blushing. you're intimidated by him and he loves that. he gives you a charming smile and reassures you that it's alright, dear, just hurry to class. he sends you on your way with a pat on your lower back.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who asks his son about you later. jake tells him all about you, just as wesker was hoping. while jake is in class, he installs cameras in the house- invisible to the naked eye, of course. he'd hate for you to feel surveillanced and scare you off.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who tells jake he's working late tonight as an excuse to sit in the parking lot of an abandoned building and watch the cameras from his phone. he pays special attention to the one he angled at the couch as he palms himself to the video feed of you, so cutely sitting there and talking with his son. he doesn't even have to try to spend time alone with you because you're always at his place, anyway.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who adores it when you blush from something he said or did, who wants you all to himself, his son be damned. he compliments your outfits, your hair, your perfume (how can he smell that when you're three feet away?) when your boyfriend isn't around. he'll brush a hand through your hair and murmur something about how soft it is, leaving you red in the face when your boyfriend comes back.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who knows it's wrong to want you and doesn't care. he loves the way you give your full attention to him when he's talking, how you pretend that you don't see the looks he gives you, or that you're not affected by the subtle touches and unspoken promises of more. a hand on the small of your back as he passes you, one on the back of your neck as he gives you a tour of the home- something his son neglected to do- his gaze lingering too long on the curve of your throat and waist, his imagination running wild.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who finds a pair of your panties in the wash, presumably forgotten, and takes them for himself. uses them to get off, his tongue on the gusset as he imagines your taste and how you'd clench around him when you cum.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who tells you that his son isn't good enough for you. who plants seeds of doubt in your head and waters them religiously. you're too oblivious to notice what he's doing, because mr. wesker is so nice, he would never do that to your relationship, right? who tells you that an older man would treat you right, much better than his stupid son.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who waits for you to get into a fight with his son about something so he can comfort you after his son storms out of the house, leaving you crying in his bedroom. you don't know what to do, don't know who to turn to, and like an angel, he's there for you. he pulls you into his lap and lets you cry it out, rubbing your back the whole time and whispering sweet nothings in his ear that leave you confused and in need of more comfort, because why does your boyfriend's dad make you feel better than your boyfriend ever has?

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck, and in your vulnerability, trust him with your life. you're putty in his strong arms, his hold secure enough to make you feel safe. he knows you don't mind when one of his hands moves to your thigh, kneading softly to get your blood running south. he feels your face heat up, your hips shifting slightly to mute the gentle throb of your clit. as if you could get away with such a subtle thing like trying to hide your arousal.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who gently forces your thighs to part to accompany his hand. who's been anticipating this, the way you moan into his neck as he thumbs your clit through your panties. how you press into his hand when he slips two fingers in after moving your panties to the side. the way your hands grab at his shirt, your fists clenched around the fabric like you'd die if you let go of him.

"that's my good girl, taking my fingers so well. i know, i know, this is just what you needed, right darling? your legs spread so nice for your boyfriend's daddy." he croons, his lips just centimeters from your ear. the fanning of his breath against your neck, his long fingers in your cunt and the noises they draw out of you- utterly sinful. you know it's wrong, but just thinking about your boyfriend coming home to this sight has your cunt squeezing and aching for more. he knows you want it just as bad as he does, the way you're gripping his fingers like they're his cock. you're close already and he wonders just how long it's been since you've been fucked properly.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who kisses you to keep you from whining when he pulls his fingers out of you to undo his belt and pull his cock out from its cloth confines. who hisses slightly when you stroke him, slightly inexperienced but for him, you're willing to learn. who's so encouraging, holding your hips as you pierce yourself on his cock with little pushback. whose tip nails your cervix and he's not even fully inside. who's fine with that because as much as he wants this, he doesn't want to hurt you. who guides your hips in the way he knows you enjoy, because he's watched your boyfriend move you the same way.

"just like that, dolly. your cunt feels perfect, gotta ruin it for everyone else, don't i? mold it to my cock so you can't cum any other way. you'd like that, right sweet girl?" his nails dig into the meat of your hips, bouncing you at a steady pace. you nod dumbly, the pleasure melting your brain into nothingness. you could get addicted.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who doesn't pull out to cum. he keeps you brainless on his dick, forcing an orgasm out of you as he rubs that spongy spot inside of you. he grins when you moan his name as the pleasure comes crashing through you, your nails digging into his shoulders. he loves that sound.

"t-too much- fuck- please-" you whine, burying your face in his shoulder as he holds your hips steady, thrusting up into you with an unforseen vigor. he's not stopping until you're full of his cum, maybe even crying a little.

"quiet, darling. i'm only doing what's best for you." he hisses, his hips stuttering with stifled groan. you moan in unison, his thick, sticky seed spilling in you, but he doesn't stop fucking you.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker who fucks his load so deep inside of you, you're worried it might actually take. who strokes your hair as you remain on his lap, recovering when he's satisfied with himself.

"you're not going to tell my son about this, are you darling?" he runs his fingers through your hair until you're alright to sit up.

"no."

"good girl. come here." he kisses you again, sweeter this time, but you get the feeling that he's never going to let you go.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who refuses to let you out of his grasp, even if you break up with jake. you're not escaping him that easily.

[theloneotaku158]

As of Batman: The Brave and the Bold #12, local precious-gremlin-who-I-would-die-for, Maps Mizoguchi, is now officially(?) the sixth Robin. Or at the very least, she's now "in" on The Secret™.

If this isn’t a set up for her taking up the Robin mantle officially then I genuinely don’t know what is.

As one of the twelve Gotham Academy enjoyers in existence, I am having the extremely normal reaction of "FUCKING FINALLY! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO--!"

In all honesty, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen this coming from miles away. Like, Maps has appeared in a number of seemingly random cameo roles recently, including Batgirls (2021), and even technically as Robin in the backup issues of Batman (2016) #119-121, and in a short story in Batman Black & White. And most of those got collected in a standalone titled "Maps of Mystery", which specifically gathered all her appearances as Robin (and the Gotham Academy Belle Reve story).

And then, of course, her recent time-travelling Future-Trunks-esque appearance in Birds of Prey (2023), as the tech-based Meridian, from a potential future timeline where she apparently makes it as a superhero using gadgets she apparently designed, proving that she's hero material.

That's not something you do for a character for no reason. That's the sort of thing you do when you want to keep a character in the conscience of your readers for whatever reason, because you have bigger plans for them.

Also interesting to consider that, in the "Mother's Day" story where this took place, Alfred is standing right there and not lying down six feet under wood, dirt and a stone slab, and that Bruce is in the old Batcave under the manor so he still has Money™. So we must assume this was some nebulous time in the past (after GA: Second Semester(?), but before City of Bane)... which I won't bother to analyse the exact timeframe of because DC doesn't care about the post-Flashpoint / New 52 / Rebirth / Prime Earth / idfk / Dawn of DC timeline, so neither should I.

But I think it's really funny that this presumably means Maps has known The Secret™ for a long time relative to present-day comics, but always acted like she didn't.

But if all her appearances are in chronological order, that means Bruce is only the fourth Bat whose identity she discovered.

Like, she discovered Cass' identity almost by accident on a trip to the zoo, Damian showed off his grapple gun and gave her an actual Batarang during the three hours he was enrolled in the school (as if she wouldn't immediately put two-and-two together even back then), and she even found out Terry fucking McGuinness would become Batman in a future via a time-travelling grandfather clock.

No I did not make that last part up. Read Gotham Academy istg.

Did Cass know that Maps had been acting as a Robin when she met her, both at the zoo in Batgirls and her future version in Birds of Prey?

Does Damian know the one (1) friend(?) he made in Gotham Academy is potentially in the running for his job?

Is Bruce himself aware that she knows as much about their identities as she currently does?

How is DC going to retcon this so it all makes sense in the barely-functioning canon of the modern DC universe?

I'm digressing. Where was I going with this?

Point is, she's destined to become a Robin, and I'm glad DC finally pulled their fingers out their asses and capitalised on that destiny.

Let's just hope it doesn't take another year for them to follow up on this plotline again.

Bonus: Jason Todd, after learning of Bruce taking yet another happy kid under his wing as yet another Robin, giving her some advice:

[btsvt-bar]

I’m imagining Hoshi sneaking under your desk at work to eat you out while you’re still trying to work. Bonus points if he keeps going even when another member shows up to your office looking for him!

i actually went insane while writing this. i hope you like it ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

you work in the creative team at hybe, that's how you first met hoshi.

of course you knew who he was, you're always into kpop. so you tried not to freak out and played it cool when he approached you and your older sister, who worked there too.

"noona! long time no see!" he greeted her happily. "i'm hoshi, nice to meet you." he bowed a little when talking to you.

you mimicked his actions. "Y/N, nice to meet you too." "hoshi, this is my little sister. she's working with us now." your sister said with a proud tone, making you blush. "oh, that's nice! welcome to the team." "thank you!"

you felt really shy talking to an idol, but hoshi was always sweet and he kept greeting you every time you met. he introduced you to other members and, eventually, you started to have coffee together.

you never imagined that two years later, you'd be dating him.

and you also didn't expect that he would show up to your office, after hours, and beg you to eat you out.

"soonie, we're at work." you ponder. it's past 11pm and almost everyone went home by now, but you can't risk it. "also, i have to send this in by 12."

"baby, please. i'm really horny and i need to taste you." he just finished practicing for seventeen's new comeback and came straight to you. "i promise it'll be good."

you give in when he gets on his knees. hoshi approaches you with a wicked smile and hides under the desk. you slide down your chair and he opens your legs with his warm hands.

"keep working, baby. you have a deadline to meet." he smiles smugly at you when you tilt your head back as he distributes small kisses and licks on your thighs.

you bunch your skirt up and help him take your panties off. you're trembling in expectation, thinking you actually went insane by allowing him to do this.

but then his tongue licks on your clit and your mind goes blank.

he licks and sucks your wet cunt with passion. you buck your hips and your thighs involuntarily close around his head, so hoshi grips the flesh so hard you're sure you'll have bruises.

every time your eyes meet hoshi's, you feel more slick pouring out of your hole. and with every flick of his tongue you have to stop yourself from screaming.

he drags a finger over your slit and you tremble. his tongue worked you up enough that he easily slips two fingers into you, lips wrapping around your clit.

that's when someone knocks on your door, and you gulp down the loud moan trapped on your throat.

"tell them to come in!" hoshi whispers and goes back to what he was doing. you try to look like you were working, yet you're sure you just looked messed up.

"co-come in!" you shout and Woozi appears.

"hey, Y/N! have you seen Hoshi? he's supposed to give me a ride home." the man smiles at you.

you grip the edge of the desk, trying to keep yourself grounded. your heart is beating so fast and it seems like hoshi only works faster. he keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth.

"I'm n-not sure." you stutter, afraid of talking more and end up moaning.

"hm. weird. I assumed he came to see you, but maybe he's waiting for me in the team room." he comments and you nod, wanting him gone. "are you ok? you seem a little pale."

of course Hoshi doesn't let up, instead he starts to caress the soft spot inside your pussy. you take a deep breath before answering. "Ju-just tired."

"it's late, you should go home. and that's coming from me." Woozi chuckles and you try to follow along. "anyways, whoever finds him first, calls the other."

"yeah, will do." you reply and he leaves, remaining unsuspicious that his friend was right there.

Hoshi detaches from your pussy as soon as the door closes. "you heard him, baby. can you cum for me, so we can go home?"

your entire body feels like it's melting. Hoshi starts to fuck you with his tongue and uses his fingers to play with your clit. soon enough, you allow the knot on your stomach to be untied and cum all over his face, thick globs of arousal coming out for him to lick and gulp down like it's the best drink ever made.

his mouth is glistening when he comes up for air, his lips sporting a proud and satisfied smile. you pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"let's go home so i can fuck you." Hoshi declares and you whimper, wanting him immediatly. "Jihoonie's waiting, and you need to finish your e-mail."

you never typed so fast in your life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 12

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

Before to start. . . Please take your time to read 'cause it's quite lenghty. 📖

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The weekend with Joel unfortunately came to an end. The enchantment is over and everything is back exactly as it was. Or almost, Joel, the night before the two of you went back to your lives, gave you a small set of keys.

"If you want to come here and write, you can. With or without me. There's an important part of you here and it's right that, when you want to, you come. Feel free to do." he told you "If you want to run away and seek refuge, you can do it here."

You are in your room lying on your bed with the small wooden guitar he carved for you a long ago clutched in one hand and the keys to his house in the other. You clutch them tightly to your heart as if to feel Joel close to you. You miss him already.

This makes you realize one thing: there's no longer a place for Jack in your life or in your heart. You want to be with Joel. You want him to be a part of you, you want everyone to know that you don't care that he's older than you, but that you love him. Yes, you love him.

You can't do without him.

Your phone rings.

It's Jack.

"I haven't heard from you once." he says.

"Well, you too." you reply in an icy tone.

"Would you like to talk about what happened a few nights ago?" he asks you.

The truth is that you don't care. You don't want someone like him next to you, someone who makes you feel bad, who doesn't support you, who doesn't understand you. No, thank you.

"There's nothing to say," you reply in the same tone.

"So … are we okay?" he asks.

"No, maybe I wasn't clear. Jack. . . I'm sorry, but I don't want a person who doesn't support me, who doesn't understand what's important to me," you answer.

For a moment you feel like the phone line has gone dead, then he resumes "So, we don't want to see each other again?"

"No." you reply flatly "Bye Jack, have a nice life." you add and then cut off the call.

Your heart beats fast in your chest. You feel as if freed from a burden.

Maybe you were too hard on Jack, but you don’t want continue leading him on, it’s not fair. You don't love him. You never had.

Now you can be with Joel.

But how can you see him if he is no longer in town now?

Simple, you look for something that might convince your mother to let you leave for a few days. You look for an idea, anything to get away, but at the moment you can't think of anything.

You fall asleep looking for an idea.

Your life flows quietly, you go to work at the bar, when you come back you practice your chords, you very rarely go to church with your mother hoping to get some ideas on how you can reach Joel. The man who teaches these classes sees you and approaches you with a big smile. He's a great speaker, has great language property, and you are not surprised that your mother is fascinated by him, but you fear that he is yet another foothold your mother is looking for in the course of her life. The man, a fellow named Mark, will be a few years older than your mother, tells you that he's glad you are there with them, that you too therefore are seeking the salvation of your soul and that only through prayer can this happen.

You lower your head, you don't want to burst out laughing in his face, you don't believe in this, you never had and you won't start now. Everything you hear only increase this your total belief. You are not like your mother who believes whatever she is told. No.

"Boo," your mother says, "have you seen how interesting these classes are?"

Of course.

"Yes, you right. You know, I've been thinking about going deeper," you begin. Your mother's eyes sparkle, she thinks she convinced you and converted you to all this. Not at all.

"You could go for a prayer retreat with Mark and his group." she offers enthusiastically "If I could, I would go too, but I have to work."

You take advantage of it.

"Mom, actually I'd like to go with my friend Kristen and her prayer group, you know, she's also attending. Her group is in the small town near ours, I know they are leaving next week for a prayer retreat, maybe I can go with her so I would have her company."

Kristen is the friend your mother always liked the most, she always saw her as a proper young person, judicious, polite, charitable, in short a perfect friend and girl.

"Fine. But you'll have to let me know then what you think, though, and then next time you and I will go with Mark's group."

Now you just need to let Kristen know.

"We'll talk." you say with a small smile "Would you like a pizza? Shall we eat it at the diner?"

"All right." she replies, taking you under her arm.

The evening unfolds as quietly as possible, you don't talk much, you just make a few sporadic comments about the pizza, the place, the meeting you attended, but nothing more.

Fortunately Joel calls when you returned by now and your mother is in bed. You check to see if you can talk freely and realize that she is soundly asleep. Joel tells you about his day, but more than anything he asks if you have been to his house, he wants to know if you are writing, if you are doing everything to pursue your dream, but you tell him you are going tomorrow.

"I miss you," you tell him, "I wish you were here," you add.

"I can't move, honey." he tells you in a regretful tone "We may not see each other not earlier than three weeks, it's gonna be complicated days for me."

"For me too, Miller. I'll. . ." you stop, you were about to tell him I love you, but then you reconsider, you don't know if your feeling is mutual, and what if he replies he doesn't feel the same way for you? You don't think you can stand such a response from him.

"You, what?" he encourages you, you swallow, afraid, you close your eyes "Baby, are you there?"

"Yes." you answer "I'm very tired, sorry. . ."

"No, no, 's okay. Go to sleep, I wish you good night, baby. A kiss, I hope whatever you dream will come true sooner or later." he says before to hang up the phone.

You open your eyes, he's not here, but your imagination brought you into his arms to come violently.

You will surely dream about him, his dark eyes, his plushy lips smiling at you and kissing you softly, his messy hair falling on his forehead, his arms caging the sides of your face, you dream about him with one hand cupping your face and with the other moving a strand of your hair and smiling at you. You see him on top of you whispering sweet, reassuring words in that sweet, warm voice of his, your hands in his hair as you press yourself against him.

His hand along your bare chest, his large hand caressing your breasts, thumb and forefinger teasing first one nipple and then the other. Your breath breaks.

His bulge pushing against your inner thigh, your breaths getting shorter and shorter, you almost feel him stroking you with a finger first to taste your intimacy then slowly sinking inside you, inch by inch. You gasp.

It feels so good, the rhythm he's giving with his finger that breaks your breath, he then strokes you rhythmically with two fingers, filling you all the way, you swallow squeezing your eyes shut and clutching your sheets in a fist. You mumble his name, bite your lower lip. You feel the blood boil in your veins as he continues to pump in a relentless rhythm inside you, then your mouth opens wide in a dull moan, your lips trembling.

Being in his house without him causes you a strange grip, you feel like you are in a beautiful soulless place. You feel empty, you just look around as if you almost feel a presence around you. You feel ridiculous thinking about this. After all, it's not the first time you've come here, of course it's the first time you're alone here, but you've been with him so many times. There's nothing to be afraid of.

"You recognize this place?" you ask Joel, sending him a message with a photograph of you sitting on his couch.

You turn on the computer he gave you and write, write, write. The words come out spontaneously, effortlessly, when you lift your head from the computer you realize it is almost evening. You stretch, turn off the pc, drink a glass of water, go to the bathroom and then leave.

Joel hasn't answered you, that's not like him, who knows maybe he's just really busy, you tell yourself.

As you're on your way home, you contact Kristen, you absolutely must warn her of your idea: you explain your plan and she tells you that she also has to actually go to a prayer meeting and she has to go to the very town where Joel is working. You explain that you are going to pretend to join them, but that you are actually going to Joel, you want to see him.

You check your phone, but Joel has not answered or displayed yet. You decide to call him, but his phone just rings. That's weird. You text him, but nothing, he doesn't answer or call you. You think about many things, then you decide that since he doesn't answer you, you need to leave, you need to see him now more than ever.

Convincing your mother was as easy as a glass of water, she wanted to talk to Kristen of course who confirmed your prayer meetings, provided many details of arrival and departure, and you, to reassure your mother, promised to call her as soon as you arrived, in the afternoon and evening. You prepare your small luggage and, since your mother won't let you drive, you leave with Kristen. The only problem is that Joel doesn't know you are coming and you don't know where to look for him.

Someone says that doing surprises is never a good thing because you inevitably get surprises, you try to chase that thought away, you don't want to believe that you are the one getting the surprise. You check your phone, Joel hasn't been in touch or answered your texts for almost twenty-four hours, and on the one hand it agitates you, but on the other it leads you to think that maybe he's just really busy.

While you're thinking that you've been foolish in leaving like that without informing him of your arrival, you remember the name of the company he works at and so your field of inquiry narrows; you're not alone, luckily you're accompanied by Kristen and a friend of hers, a guy named Xavier, a tall, muscular, blue-eyed, black-haired handsome guy. You think he's there with you because he cares about your friend, but this is your own thought, you may be wrong.

The places you see are one shabbier than the next, fortunately Xavier is with the two of you. When you arrive at another construction site, you realize you're in the right place, you ask for Joel and at that moment you are approached by a chick all dirty with a chipped protective helmet, she says your name, you turn around "D' you know me?" you ask her puzzled.

"It's like I know you, Joel talks about you all the time. You're here for him, aren't you?" her expression tense, focused "Come with me." she tells you, turning her back to the three of you.

"Uhm, can you wait for me? I'll let you know right away," you tell them.

When you turn around, you see the woman waiting for you with her hands in her uniform pockets, then noticing that you are joining her, she continues. She urges you to be careful several times, climbing flights of semi-dangerous stairs, when you almost reach the top, your heart in your throat with fear, but the idea of seeing him urges you on.

"Don't be frightened, dunno how much he's told you," she says as if you know what she's talking about "It's less worse than it looks." she stops on the landing "He's over there, he fell pretty bad, but other than a few cuts and bruises, he's okay."

You furrow your brow, the woman talks about it almost as if she said he scraped his knee, as if it were obvious. Well, maybe it is, but not to you.

"Didn't he tell you, did he?" she asks noticing your worried expression "You stubborn fool." she says in a sigh "Come." she adds giving you a little pat on your arm.

You follow her worriedly to a semi-closed door, "Wait." she tells you, then enters.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, that's why he didn't write or call you, but when did this happen? Yesterday? Last night? This morning? It doesn't matter when, but how he is, you hope with all your heart that nothing serious happened to him and that it's just a few scratches like the ones you've also seen before.

The door opens, the woman's eyes are downcast as she comes out, then she raises them to you, "He's in a bad mood, but I think with you he's…well, we gave him a painkiller." she tells you as she walks past you.

"But how did that happen?" you ask stopping her.

"That stubborn fellow last night at five o'clock had to knock off, but he wanted to finish a job upstairs at all costs, so he stayed with four other unconscious men like him until eight o'clock. By that time it's dark up here, very dark in spite of the lights, he slipped along with some equipment on the ramp leading upstairs." you pale "The cuts are mostly superficial, except for one on his side. A couple of friends working in the ER stitched him up."

"He needs to be taken to the hospital," you say seriously concerned.

She smiles bitterly and shakes her head "Since that episode happened to his daughter, Miller hasn't set foot in a hospital." the woman looks at you as if she has let a secret slip.

"What happened to his daughter?" you ask her hoping she will talk, but she shakes her head and replies "I can't be the one to tell you about it, he has to. If you're as important to him as it seems. . . well, he'll talk to you about it sooner or later." you lower your gaze "Now go to him."

You swallow, then turn away from the woman and enter, the room is semi-dark and cold, there are dozens of cabinets along two walls and then at the back a window through which only faint glimpses of light enter and a worn sofa on which Joel is lying. You leave your bag at the doorway dropping it and hurry next to him from the side, his face is swollen, you can clearly make out a cut at the level of his left cheekbone and lower lip, his arms are covered with large bloodstained bandages and his work uniform is half-open revealing a gauze on his side below which you imagine are the stitches the woman told you about.

You very gently caress the contour of his face, his face twitching in a small grimace perhaps from pain perhaps from discomfort you don't know, he opens his eyes and when he sees you he hints a pale smile "Is it the painkillers or are you really here?"

"Joel. . ." you tell him in a whisper moving closer to his face "I'm here."

"My beautiful. . . wonderful. . . writer" he mumbles raising an arm toward your face, when his hand brushes your face and then moves your hair you have chills, you place your hand on his, you feel it warm and ruined under your fingers "'m fine." he adds "Don't be impressed, I've been worse."

"Is that why you don't want me to see you naked?" you ask smiling and causing him to smile back.

"Guessed." he replies closing his eyes, for a while you don't speak again, you think he has fallen asleep, but then he says, "I missed feeling your breath against my skin."

"I missed you." you confess, squeezing his hand a little tighter and placing a kiss on the back of his hand "If something happened to you. . ." the words choke in your throat.

"'m right here, honey. 'm not going anywhere." he tells you reassuringly and stroking your cheek with his fingertips in a slow and extremely gentle gesture.

You place your head suddenly between arm and shoulder and he barely jerks, "Sorry!" you exclaim, but he holds you down "No, 's okay, just take it easy. Come on." he tells you moving a little further into the couch. You remain lying on that small and uncomfortable couch, you don't dare to move for fear of hurting him, he's the one looking for your hand, which he occasionally squeezes, but without making a sound. You wonder if he squeezes it to reassure you or because he feels pain.

Joel just turns his face toward yours, "You here alone?"

It's your cell phone vibrating, interrupting that almost perfect silence, Kristen.

You completely forgot about her! You reassure her that everything is fine and that you are with Joel; then, she reminds you to call your mother and tells you she is leaving.

"No," you answer, shaking your head, "I'm with Kristen. She was waiting for me downstairs, you know, afraid that it wasn't the right construction site or that you weren't here," you explain to him.

"If you want to go with your friend, go. I think I'll stay a little longer like this and then go home. Join me later if you want." he tells you in a slightly dizzy voice.

"No." you tell him, "I came for you. If you want me, I'll stay with you," you tell him, looking at him.

He opens and closes his eyes, pulls you gently toward him making your head rest in the crook of his neck, "I want you all the time." he tells you "You know, I've been thinking about you all the time lately. There's not a moment in my day when my thoughts don't go to you." you lift your face slightly toward him "I have three words on the tip of my tongue, but dunno if it's fair to tell you." he adds before breathing deeply.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you close your eyes and inhale his scent.

"I have them too, from the bottom of my heart," you whisper, holding you to him and closing your eyes.

When Joel feels better, the two of you with Tess drive him home. You've reclined the passenger seat to make him lie down or almost lie down, you're sitting in the middle in the back seat. Tess doesn't talk much, she just casts brief glances at you from the rearview mirror and occasionally glances toward Joel who, however, does not look at you or at her.

Once finished, you help him put on a clean T-shirt and invite him to stay there while you prepare a plate of pasta with some tomato sauce, again he rebels initially, but in the face of your firm tone he can only surrender. You hand him the plate by sitting next to him, eating in silence. From time to time he lays his head back against the backrest and closes his eyes holding his breath, "Does it hurt?" he shakes his head, but the expression on his face says otherwise "What can I do?" you ask him.

The little house Joel rented here is much smaller than the one he has in town. In fact, it has a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. You help him shed his overalls, although he initially rebelled at being treated like he's ill, but you insisted. You sit him down on the worn-out couch in the kitchen and there for the first time you see his completely naked torso and it's huge, but what strikes you most besides his mighty are the many old and new cuts and scars that decorate his arms, his shoulder blades, his back. You are tempted to caress them all, but not now. You try to wash him as best you can without getting too close to the area where the stitches are.

Your eyes constantly cross, when he sees you uncertain he reassures you with a look or a nod.

You stop that thought from your mind, "Come." he says, inviting you to join him. You are wearing a shirt from a few years ago now ruined and three sizes larger, it's so big that it almost reaches your knee. You wear only that one to sleep in and briefs.

He turns to you, "You're here." he tells you causing you to miss a beat and smile.

You enjoy each other's company, he would like to lean toward you and kiss you, but the stitches are pulling and he must not strain. You accompany him to bed, where he wears only a T-shirt and a pair of dark boxers. You swallow, if he wasn't like this. . .

You lie down next to him, he's on his back, you can see him in the semi-darkness of the room, "Who was that woman at the construction site?" you ask, turning to him and gently laying a hand on his chest.

"Tess, a pain in the ass, but she's the only friend I have. The only one who has known me for years. She's a tough cookie."

"I saw. She seems cool," you say.

He nods, then turns to you, "Did you go to my place to write?"

"Once. I wrote. A lot. But without you, it's not the same." you say making squiggles on his chest with your index finger "I would have wanted you around, maybe hugging me and taking a look at what I was writing." you confide, he turns back to you "Next time.'' he tells you, giving you a kiss on your lips.

He takes your hand that was lying on his chest and squeezes it tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, he then runs his fingers down to your forearm and then looking you in the eyes he says "Come." you look at him puzzled "Come on me, I want to kiss you properly." he adds.

Your heart is pounding, you don't know how or, rather, you have a vague idea, but you don't know if it's right. He holds your hand as he guides you by making you lie completely on him. You feel even smaller in this position on him.

"If you have pain or discomfort, tell me," you tell him referring to the stitches, he shakes his head softly and then pulls you closer to him.

You are face to face, Joel barely leans toward you and captures your lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You think back to how sick you were without him, you think back to the fear you had when you learned he was hurt, as Joel slips a hand through your hair crushing you even more against him.

I love you, you'd like to say, you'd like to let him know, as you too plunge your hands into his hair and your breaths grow shorter and shorter and merge into each other.

You gently stroke his forehead to check that he doesn't have a fever or any other problems; thankfully, everything is fine. He's breathing normally and doing well. You check that the stitches are still intact, once you are satisfied that all is well, you caress his face, his features, you feel under your fingers his unshaven beard, caress in a gesture entirely new to you his neck, his Adam's apple. You see him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow, then slowly open his eyes finding your eyes at once, you smile at him and he smiles back.

His arms held you close to him all night, you did nothing but exchange long caresses, glances and kisses. And that was enough for you.

You wake up with your head on his chest, your hair partly on his chest and partly on your shoulders, you raise your head slowly and look at Joel's face. His lips parted, his hair tousled - and it's partly your fault too - a serene expression on his face, his wrinkles barely noticeable. The grazes and bruises clash so much with his handsome face.

"G' morning." you say smily.

"'Morning." he says with his voice still slurred from sleep "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while." you reply, giving him a kiss on his sternum.

"And what were ya doing?" he asks looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

"I was watching you. Sorry. . . maybe that's creepy for you. . ." you are about to say, but he smiles so you stop.

"Remember when we slept together at my house?" you nod "I watched you sleep, too. You were like a magnet, I couldn't stop doing it." he continues cupping your cheek, you close your eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch and feeling your heart beating fast "You were. . . you're beautiful." he says gently stroking your lower lip with his thumb.

"I wish. . ." you are about to say something you never thought you would have the courage to say out loud considering your lack of knowledge on the subject, in fact to tell the truth you thought you would only ever write it down in your stories and instead. . .

"Would you like to?" he urges you, stroking your hair.

"I would like to. . ." you bite your lower lip softly "I'd like to make love with you." you say all in one breath, now you would like to hide from his huge dark eyes that seem to want to read you inside, you see him swallow and then he caresses the contour of your face with a finger "Sorry, maybe. . . uhm. . . you don't want to, you don't. . ." you don't know how to continue.

"Who told you I don't want to?" he tells you wrinkling his forehead.

You look at him incredulously almost, blinking several times unable to comment on his answer.

"I just don't think you're ready yet."

"I am." you reply, trying to sound firm and tame that unfamiliar fire inside you.

"We should wait a little longer. I don't want you to have even more pain than necessary." he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear "Y' know it's going to hurt the first time, right?" you nod "I don't want you to feel even more pain because I didn't prepare you properly." he adds.

You lower your gaze for a second, "By prepare well. . . what exactly do you mean?" you ask, showing him once again your inexperience.

"When I feel better, we'll talk about it," he replies.

Interrupting that almost awkward moment there's your phone vibrating.

MOM, it appears on the screen.

Shit, you totally forgot.

"Hello?" you say snapping to your phone answering immediately.

"Weren't you supposed to call me as soon as you got here, were you?" she scolds you.

"Sorry, you're right, while we got the room and then settled in, the meetings. . . sorry." you look toward Joel who scrutinizes you with an indecipherable look.

"Is Kristen with you?" she asks.

"She went downstairs, we have a meeting soon and she went to get croissants before to start, I just got out of the shower."

"All right. So, I won't keep you, have a good day. Call me tonight."

"Alright, bye." you say interrupting the call and placing your cell phone on the bedside table.

You sigh and then turn your gaze to Joel, who stares thoughtfully at the ceiling, you stroke his arm and he looks back at you "You had to tell more lies." it's not a question, it's a statement, and his tone of voice is very, very bitter.

"I didn't tell her about-"

"Us?" he asks you "She asked about you and John though!" he retorts, returning to staring at the ceiling with a disappointed, regretful air "Right?" he adds, turning back to you.

"I only told her about Jack because it would have been more acceptable to her," you tell him, but then you regret what you said because you told him that he's no good.

He looks at you, his expression is full of pain "Got it," he only says, but you don't think he understood what you really wanted to say "Can you help me up?" he says, you want to tell him no, but his tone doesn't admit any other answer but yes.

You get up from the bed and go to his side, put your hands on his shoulder blades as he, too, clutches your forearms to give himself that push he needs to sit up; you feel against your hair his warm breath get short, "How's it going sitting up?" you ask him.

"Fine." he answers you, but his tone is icy; he's angry about what you said.

You kneel down in front of him, "Joel," you say laying a hand on his knee, "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but I didn't mean that you're not good enough. I didn't mean that, sorry if I misspoke. You are everything to me. I've had a lot of firsts with you, you're the only one I trust completely, I've never slept with anyone, I've never allowed anyone to touch me, I've never allowed anyone to get into my heart." you tell him looking straight into his eyes hoping this time not to be misunderstood.

He says nothing, looking down at you with his huge dark eyes, his breath short from the exertion he has just made, "If I should get too much," he says, but you shush him by stepping even closer and telling him, "I don't want to hear it, it won't happen."

"If it should," he resumes, "I want you to tell me and I won't see you again, I won't look for you, I won't put you in a position to lie to be with me, but to be with that other guy. . ."

"Joel," you interrupt him again, "I broke up with Jack. I don't want to be with him, I don't want him. There's only you." you tell him, feeling his breath stop for a moment as well.

"I can't be mad at you," he admits, stroking your lower lip again with a finger "Come," he says making you sit on his lap, "The truth is you drive me crazy." he tells you slipping a hand through your hair making your face come closer to his "I wish you were happy away from me, but I don't want you to go away. I'm so selfish. . ."

You kiss him fleetingly on the lips, "I don't want to be away from you. Got it?" you ask him sinking your hands into his curls, resting your forehead against his causing your breaths to mingle, "Please don't doubt how you feel about me," you tell him, "Because I have no doubt."

He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing madly and your breaths growing shorter and shorter. He pushes you toward him, slipping his large, warm hands under your T-shirt and sitting you on his intimacy only covered by his boxers.

You never want to break this kiss, but you both need to catch your breath.

He caresses your arms, then looks long into your eyes as if to ask your permission, you nod giving him your silent consent, and he slips his hands under your T-shirt lifting it up and slipping it off with your help. You remain with your torso completely naked on him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but it feels so erotic, so beautiful, more beautiful than you ever thought.

You thought that feeling his gaze on your chest, on you, would make you strongly uncomfortable, you thought you would even freeze, and instead in a rush, which you didn't think you had, you bring his hands to your bare breasts. You both groan at that contact, "Can I kiss it?" he asks you without breaking eye contact, "Yes." you reply in a trembling voice.

Feeling his lips on your nipple makes you gasp and at the same time close your eyes, you let yourself go completely to his caresses. Feeling his unshaven beard there, his hot breath, his tongue licking you gently and his lips sucking gently your breast, lead you to moan and gently bite your lower lip. You press his head against your chest, perhaps hurting him, but it is a sensation that sends you completely out of the ordinary.

"I'd stay kissing your breast for hours, 's perfect. You are perfect." he tells you, moving from one breast to the other with a little pop.

"J - Joel… please…" you find yourself pleading without even knowing exactly what the next step to take is, your vision blurs, you press yourself harder against him making your intimacies cling together as well, he gasps "Touch me." you say, he pulls his face away from your chest and you, in a bold move, get up from him slipping off your briefs and sit back down on him, on his now clearly evident prominence.

"You drive me crazy." he tells you taking a long moment to observe you, you are completely naked on top of him while he's still wearing his now bulky T-shirt and boxers.

"Take me." you tell him, bringing his hands to your hips.

He smiles as if you have said something particularly funny, "What?" you ask him blinking.

"What have you done with the sweet version of you?" he asks you barely clasping his hands on your hips, you smile at him giving him a kiss first on his lips and then moving down his neck, feeling him hold his breath.

"I'm still the same." you answer him between kisses "Sweet and insecure, but other times I know what I want and you know thanks to who?" you add going up to his chin giving him a very light bite "Thanks to you." you resume looking into his eyes.

"If I could move freely…" he tells you as a small grimace appears on his face, causing him to furrow his brow.

"What would you do?" you ask, looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and lust.

"Joel…" you moan, pressing even harder against his chest eager for more clutch.

He swallows, moves a strand of your hair and then with his hands descends back down to your intimacy, wraps it completely in his hand and caresses your outer lips with a finger. You hold your breath tightening your grip on his shoulders, you look into his eyes as if seeking safety, he kisses the tip of your nose as he continues that exhausting caress.

Your intimacy throbs, you feel yourself on fire as he continues those movements with a slow cadence making you want to be filled completely by his big finger.

Finally, oh finally, his finger sinks inside you, inch by inch, it's a sensation that makes you hold your breath, but you deeply desired, he stays still for a while then slowly begins to pump in and out, the rhythm makes you moan and close your eyes. After a while he stops and you, with blurred vision, look at him puzzled, "Now I will insert another finger, if you have pain tell me and I will stop."

He must have noticed the bewilderment on your face because he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll go very slowly. I won't do anything that will hurt you, okay?" you nod, "You tell me if you want me to stop, though," he reiterates.

A second finger?

It will never go in, or will it?

A second finger enters you very, very slowly, sinking even more slowly than the first in your throbbing cunt. You feel your walls almost give way to his passage, you groan and close your eyes, it feels. . . strange, but so. . . you are at a loss for words. It's even better than you could have thought!

With the palm of his hand he rubs your clit sending more discharges of pure lust all along your body, you moan shamelessly rubbing yourself against him, "Joel. . . oh. . ." you can't speak, he lays his other hand at the base of your back stroking you with slow gestures, "I'm going to. . . I'm going to. . ."

"'s okay, just let go." his words are enough, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you at an ever-increasing pace, his hand caressing you is enough to make you close your eyes and let out a long resounding moan.

You let go, abandoning your head on his shoulder as he continues to pump gently still in and out of you, then he pulls his fingers away from you and you feel his hands encircling you and moving closer to your torso and then placing a kiss between your shoulder and your neck, "'s okay." he says then giving you another kiss on your neck and moving your hair causing you to shiver.

When you open your eyes again, you notice how visibly aroused he is, how his arousal is. . . big, very big, you have chills. You want to make love with him, but he will never fit that inside you.

"Why don't you want me to touch you like you do with me?" you ask him intentionally settling better on him causing him to close his eyes and part his lips.

He lays a kiss on your forehead, then you look up and meet his eyes, "We were fighting. . . and then. . ." he says with a smile, a smile you return, "then you realized the reason was futile." you complete.

He nods, "You are. . ." he sighs noisily "so important to me, to my life, to my heart." he admits, caressing your face and scrutinizing you for a long time. You press yourself against him wrapping your arms around his neck, he groans. You sat on him completely, you also jerk and lower your gaze, "No." he says almost interpreting your look.

"I think you've already had another first for today. Let's take it slow." he says, "We'll do that too, honey, I promise." he says stroking your bare back in a slow motion that makes you close your eyes.

"I'd like to make you feel as good as you did me," you tell him looking into his eyes, "I don't want to touch you if you don't want to, but now it's your turn. You can't just worry about me, tell me what to do."

"It's… not…" he's about to complain, but you move a little awkwardly on his shaft and he finds himself swallowing, "it's. . . not necessary. . ."

"Joel!" you call back to him, "Really, tell me what to do." you add, this time intentionally touching his intimacy with yours.

"Fuck. . ." he groans closing his eyes, sighing noisily. He places his hands on your hips and moves you back and forth on his bulge, you both moan at that clutch, "Oh, fuck," he groans again gasping as you place your hands on his shoulders continuing to rub against him, "That's so. . . oh, baby, I. . ." his expression is tense, the vein on his neck clearly visible.

"Joel. . . don't stop." you moan as you move closer to him and give him kisses along the vein on his neck, you feel him gasp, move you on him a few more times and then he lets out a long resounding moan that deliciously fills your ears and leads you to encircle his neck with your arms as you too feel you have experienced a second orgasm just in rubbing against his manhood.

You stay like that against each other for a while longer, then you shift and slip on your briefs again, feel his burning gaze follow you, look up and meet his eyes, slip your T-shirt back on and put on a pair of shorts trying to ignore that almost clutching feeling at the pit of your stomach.

"You hungry?" you ask him.

He nods.

"Pancakes? Or ham and eggs?" you offer him.

"Coffee." he replies with a relaxed expression painted on his face.

"You can't have breakfast with just coffee, you know what happens? You get annoying." you look at him with an amused look making him visibly relax "Do you want to wash up first? Shall I give you a hand?"

He looks at you amused, "Nice try."

You blush, "I'm serious. . . I didn't mean anything."

"Then why are ya all flushed?" he asks relaxing completely.

"Because … I'm not used to these allusions, I always hated 'em. Gina, my friend, makes constant allusions to sex, and it always makes me uncomfortable." you confide to him.

"Why?" he asks cocking his head to one side with a small grimace twitching his face.

You sit down next to him, "I always saw sex as something awkward, strange. . . maybe because I didn't know my body, maybe because I never shared a truly intimate moment with another person, and maybe because I looked at sex as something deeply intimate and not to be talked about like that." you confide again "Do you think I'm strange?" you ask turning to him.

"Not at all. I'm a lucky old man." he says "Not everyone approaches sex immediately."

You nod, "Well, would you rather wash first - no innuendo - and then eat?"

"Okay, will you help me?" he asks looking to his side.

"Does it hurt?" you ask as you stand up and help him to his feet.

"A little, I think the painkillers wore off by now," he replies.

"Lean on me," you tell him, encircling his waist with your arm; he smiles at you, "Don't worry."

You help him get to the bathroom, then take off his T-shirt revealing himself in his might, he reveals to you once again his broad torso full of old and new scars and you again stand almost open-mouthed, you are very attracted to that strip of dark hair disappearing into his boxers. You look away feeling yourself flaming again.

"May I ask how you fell and what you were doing in the dark?" you ask as you wash his shoulders paying attention to the recent cuts and bruises present.

"Tess…" he replies with a sigh, shaking his head "she never shuts up." shortly after he adds "I heard that if we didn't complete the work on at least the upstairs by the beginning of next week, we won't going to get paid and I want to get paid because I busted my back on that fucking construction site!" he blurts out "And instead I put my foot wrong and fell with those tools. I'm an old fool." he exclaims with a sigh.

"You're not at all, you wanted to get paid for the hard work! But even if they don't have to pay you this job, though, you'll find another one," you tell him, passing the sponge between his neck and shoulders.

He shakes his head, "I don't know, the truth is maybe I should stop giving myself over to these things and do something else, even though this is what I am." he concludes by lowering his head.

"Joel," you say stopping washing him and squatting down next to him "don't talk like that about yourself, you're 47 years old it's true, but that doesn't mean you have to quit, it's true yours is a dangerous job, but you can still do it. Maybe not open construction sites, you could renovate single-story houses, you could do something a little less dangerous." you tell him abandoning the sponge and stroking his face "Look at me, please" he finally looks up "You're fine like this, you're perfect like this. It happens to everyone to fail, but if for every failure we said I'm not good enough I'd better give up, well we wouldn't live anymore!"

His formerly sad eyes become sweet and serene again, he reaches out a hand to you and caresses one cheek, this contact makes you close your eyes, you surrender to him, as always, whenever you are with him.

"You're sweet, I've always said so."

You smile looking into his eyes, "We need each other, did you see?"

He nods, "I'm taking your advice. Will you take one from me?" you look at him questioningly, "I read that there's in Seattle a contest for new writers, entries are due in June, why don't you sign up?"

A contest for new writers? Oh, it's always been your dream to sign up for a literary contest, but Seattle is so far away. . . so far away from him.

"I know that look," he says making you look up at him, "you don't have to say yes or no right away, think about it. I'd like to know and see you accomplished. I'd like to see a picture of you everywhere that says writer of the year." he says smiley and making you smile "Or maybe see you win the Pulitzer Prize." he adds making you smile nervously as your vision blurs "I don't want you to stay in that ugly, dreary little town, you have so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it over there in a bar or even in a library, I have nothing against people who do those jobs," he tells you, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, "but I wouldn't want you to do that forever. You have a unique mind, you're brilliant, you're smart, you're too much to be confined only to yourself." you're crying, you can't hold back the tears anymore "Maybe someday someone might come and make some documentary about you and who knows they'll do some interviews around and they'll interview me too and I'll say I know her, I met the wonderful woman who's driving everybody crazy."

"Stop it," you tell him sobbing and hiding your face in your hands.

He calls you gently pulling you to him to hug you, you hide your face in the crook of his neck heedless of getting wet yourself. He holds you tightly to him, his hands caress your back, "'s okay, honey, 's okay." he says kissing your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your lips.

The truth is, you don't want to fulfill your dream if you know you have to leave him.

You surrender into his kisses, into his strong arms holding you to him trying to push that thought away as much as possible because, for you, it's not acceptable.

A/N Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏 The girl in the gif has the purpose to represent the situation only 🙂

[dawnoftime22]

i don't know.

| N.R

Warnings: long windup to a mental breakdown, loss of breathing, numbing day, vent fic, maybe some bad writing here and there? r loves waffles

Summary: When everything, such as emotions, ends up building away a little too much, the days start to blur together until you soon break. But Nat was there every part of the way.

Word Count: 3k

Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort(?)

A/N: hi my darlings :] its a new year and I just wanted to say I love you all and I am so so proud of you for just being here. you are not alone in whatever you're facing. things are hard sometimes and this was hard to write but you make me smile when I see you in my notifs <3 hugs to all of you, you're doing amazing

I hope this fic brings you comfort as it did for me

| Started on 12/11/2023, 7:29 AM |

| Finished on 08/01/2024, 2:05 PM |

Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

"my love. listen to me. breathe, let go, and focus on you and your surroundings. you're safe."

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was yet another day. Another tiring day. You haven't gone through it yet, but you sure didn't get much rest even though you've slept.

You sigh, and turn your back on the bed. Nat was sleeping beside you, but you were too caught up in zoning out to move closer to her. And you didn't want to wake her yet.

Nothing has even happened today and still, you can't bare to think about anything. Perhaps all your emotions are catching up, and at that thought, you turn your face into the pillow.

Another few minutes pass by with you staring at the ceiling, turning until your leg and arm was dangling off the side of the bed, or face down on your pillow. It didn't take long for your temptation to shuffle closer to Nat to take over though.

You slowly put your arms around her and snuggle closer to her, taking comfort in the warmth of her body. With her being a light sleeper though, she starts to stir awake. Her eyes open and her arms move to hold yours.

"Morning, любовь (love)." She whispered, her voice raspy, but her words filling the room and your heart with warmth with even the smallest way. Maybe this day won't be so bad...Maybe this day won't be so bad.

She turns in your embrace and looks at you with gentle half-lidded eyes, her nose brushing against yours ever so slightly with the fact that you were face-to-face. She could see it in your eyes already, something was off. She moves herself up to leave the softest kiss on your forehead. You could've broken there already, but you didn't. You didn't.

You rest your head against her chest, a small pout making its way to your face. She runs her hand through your hair and holds you for a few more minutes, the both of your breathing being able to be heard as if on whispering volume, but it was there, and gentle.

Soon she pulls away, dragging herself up to a more sitting position, leaving you beside her stomach level. You assume she was about to get up to do her morning routine, and you were about to prepare to pull her back to bed.

"What do you want for breakfast?" She asks, and the question almost made you confused, because you were expecting she would go for her morning run, but it seems, she wants to do something else.

With the simple question, you manage to make up an answer. Although it did take you a few minutes, with your jumbled up mind.

"Waffles." She smiles, having heard that answer several times. Nat gently nudges you to move you to the pillow instead, and goes to get up from the bed.

"Wait," you say suddenly, capturing her arm before it could be out of your reach. She turns back to you, a gentle and curious look upon her face.

"Are you staying?" You ask, your voice being nothing more than a whisper. But the little shakiness it holds doesn't pass by her ears.

"Of course I am." It was a rather simple answer. But the touch of her hand against yours and her eyes meeting yours was more than enough of a promise.

She gives you a small smile before going into the bathroom with her towel, the shower soon being an occuring noise coming from the bathroom.

Your eyes glide over to the window, the view being buildings and the sky filled with fluffy clouds. Your mind strayed. The running water was the only other thing you could focus on.

When Nat came out, she was wrapped into a towel. You pull the covers closer to yourself and curl up under them, feeling colder from just the gusts of wind the ceiling fan is making. Were you only sick and gathering a fever? No. No, that wasn't it.

You turn to look back at Nat, and she was fully clothed already. You watch her walk towards the bed, reaching out her arm to put the back of her hand against your forehead. It wasn't warm. She must know something is up already.

"Shower, okay? Or, you won't get any waffles." She says, her fingers moving a stray hair out of your face, but looking at you with raised eyebrows.

"Is that a threat?" You finally give her the smallest raise on the corners of your lips, and it took everything in her not to cheer.

"Yes, it is!" She said jokingly, her voice further away now that she went out the door, but the volume made it so that the words reached your ears. You shake your head, the sound of her voice being the most adorable thing to you.

You lay your back against the bed once more, staring up at the moving ceiling fan. Today is going to be a long day.

Some movement could be seen in the corner of your eye, and you almost thought Nat was back already, but then when you look, you only see a black furry animal coming to visit you.

Liho jumps up on the bed, and stares at you with her yellow eyes. The cat walks closer, and you go to pet it, the soft fur precious against your gentle hands.

It's cold nose touches you, and at it, you smile. You had forgotten cats had cold noses. Liho steps back a bit, and you tilt your head, wondering about her next move.

She leaped to the other side of the bed, going above your legs to reach to where Nat usually lays, and meows at you.

With your head and eyes following her movement, it soon went up to where the bathroom is. You blink at it for a second or two, making up decisions in your head.

Soon enough, you willed yourself out of bed by slowly going to a sitting position, to letting your legs dangle at the side of the bed, and finally, with hesitancy, getting up.

You were about to go search the closet for an outfit to wear, but then you see at the edge of the bed, a folded hoodie and your favorite sweatpants prepared already, by perhaps, Nat.

Your heart warmed at the caring gesture she did. With the more courage, you make your way to the bathroom to take a warm shower, hoping that the day will only get better.

When you got back out, the fluffy towel kept you feeling cozy, and you got your clothes on. By the time you look to the door and walk to the kitchen, Nat was sitting at the kitchen island, ready with two plates of waffles.

She glances up and sees you, a soft smile present on her face. What got you so lucky to have someone like her? You sit down in front of her, and enjoy the waffles she prepared, the soft texture of your hoodie giving as much comfort as the warmth of the waffle soon going in your mouth.

The rest of the day then consisted of you being unable to focus on anything. You couldn't read, and you couldn't do your hobbies without straying off to doing something else such as staring off into space or just laying on the couch or bed doing nothing.

You yawn, for the tenth time the past hour. But you weren't sleepy. Gosh, you were tired though. Nat was beside you on the couch, working on something on her laptop while you scrolled endlessly on your phone.

Her eyes go over to you, before flickering back to her laptop, her hands then moving to turn it off and close it. She turns her head to you, and the attention you feel from the side has you looking away from your phone and instead, at her.

"Do you wanna sit down outside? The sun's going down." She tilts her head towards the door, then goes to glance at the window in the living room, it having a view of the sky slowly changing color.

Your eyes had a certain shine on them when they laid upon the window, the colors and the way the sunlight does a shape of the window somewhere on the floor finally captured an attention of your auto-pilot mind. You nod at Nat's question, a quiet "Yeah," making out of you.

"Look," you say, just as Nat was about to get up from the couch. She looks down and was just as entranced as you were at the scenery in front of her.

"You should take a photo." She encourages you with a small smile and stands up. You take out your phone and find a perfect angle to grab a picture. Also making sure the exposure is on the perfect level.

"I'll make us hot chocolate, yeah? You can go out first so you don't miss the first few minutes." Nat says, going to the kitchen. Liho enters the scene, and lays down on the carpet just next to where it seeped in the sun, and you just had to take another picture.

After you were satisfied, you push yourself up with your hands and make your way to the door, slowly opening it and going out, leaving it open just a crack so Nat could come outside easier.

A golden sunset spreads throughout the place. The sun paints the sky a lovely shade of orange mixed with light blue, and a tinge of pink. You admire how smooth the gradient is.

The wooden texture of the floor makes itself known on your hands as you shuffled to rest your back against the wall of the house, but you slide your hands into your pockets comfortably.

The door opens, and Nat comes outside with two fresh mugs of hot chocolate. One being coffee though, for herself. She was quick. In your peripheral vision, you could see her sitting next to you on the porch, and hand you one mug.

You turn your head to look at her, and you reach up with one of your hands that held you up to grab the hot chocolate. The warmth made itself comfortable in your hands as you clasped it lightly to not burn yourself, but making sure your grip wasn't too loose.

You take a deep breath in, and let it out as a long sigh, not meaning to do it so audibly. Natasha takes notice of this, and her eyes drift from the view of the sunset, over to you, seeing just how lost in your head you were.

"Are you okay детка (baby)?" She starts gently with a simple question. She knows today was one of those days.

"I don't know," you say. It was honest. You don't know what you've felt for a while, but it was certainly gnawing at you for something. Some kind of release. You just didn't have time or energy to in the past few days.

"You've been off the entire day." She adds, her voice laced with concern, but no judgement. She put her mug to the side after another sip, her focus all on you while you tried to keep yours on the sunset.

"I just wanna stay home right now," you whisper. It's not that she was about to ask you if you wanted to go out, but rather, just the fact that you felt comfortable and safe at the moment. This is home. She's your home.

Nat's eyes roam your face, searching for all the thoughts you're thinking. But she couldn't really read your face. Perhaps because, you didn't know what you were feeling either. Sad? Mad? Stressed? Anxious? So many feelings available to name, but all you felt was a sense of heaviness.

"...I feel like falling apart anytime." that was the only other thing you could say. Your voice quiet, so quiet she could only hear it because she was right beside you.

It clicks in for Nat, and she understands fully. She's done it herself, countless times. And you were there nearly every single time. Feelings being kept and slowly overflowing, until everything in the past few months catch up.

You tried everything within you not to. You tried. But it's not possible with how much you've already tried avoiding your emotions. The birds chirped and flew off home while the sun sank down.

Nat hears a small sniffle and a quiet but sharp intake of a breath coming from you, until another slightly louder sniffle comes out, and you turn your head to face her. She sees your eyes glistening with tears, and she takes in her own breath to not cry herself. To see you in such a state left a crack in her heart.

Her arms instinctively goes to pull you closer and hold you, and that was when you broke. You hid in her neck and sobbed in her embrace, your tears staining her shirt.

It was unusual, but not the first time you've broken down like this. Nat was still getting used to saying assuring words, but she thinks about all the things you've said to her before, and tries her best to use it in her own ways.

She gently runs her fingers through your hair, holding you safely. She could feel your body shaking, and your chest going up in hiccups from your breathing between your sobs.

"Oh, солнышко (sunshine)." She whispers softly, so softly. The sounds of your cries made her frown. She knows you can hold too many things in sometimes, but this was...heartbreaking.

Your fingers were gripping her shirt, afraid that perhaps, she'd disappear. But you can hear her heart beating, being so near to her chest while you were at her neck.

When she hears you taking too many, far too many breaths, she knows she has to step in. She leans back a little to see you, and you look up at her with your tear filled eyes.

"Look at me...follow my breathing, alright? I don't want you to lose it." She says, her head moving with her movement, but her voice was gentle, yet firm enough for you to keep a focus on her.

She takes a deep breath in from her nose and lets it out from her mouth, encouraging you follow. You eventually manage to do it, after a bunch of hiccups, and slowly regain your normal breathing. Nat nods slightly, her hands moving up to move your hair back, showing more of your face and hoping it makes breathing easier for you, giving you space.

"Take your time, дорогой (darling)." Her eyes move back to yours, the green in her pupils holding the look of a forest. A peaceful one.

"There you go." She quietly said, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours, the touch comforting you. She gives you a small reassuring smile before going up and laying a kiss on your forehead.

"You'll be okay." Your teeth catches your lip as you look at her, and she can tell there were thoughts racing in your head. She runs her thumb lightly on your lips, making you let go of it.

Once again, a black furry cat enters your vision, and it goes in between you and Nat, making the both of you look down for a moment.

You, with your cheeks stained with your tears, Liho walks up to you and rubs her head and body against yours, the gesture making your heart melt.

A teary laugh comes from you, and you reach out to touch it, the soft fur going against your hand. Liho, too, was concerned it seems, from how long you've been sitting outside, but also moves to go to Nat, checking on her too.

The redhead picks the cat up, petting it for a few seconds before setting it aside. Liho sits down, watching the two of you before her attention went to the streetlights turning on. You two stare at her for a bit until your eyes meet each other once more.

She shuffles closer to you once again and you rest your head against her shoulder, the heaviness in your own shoulders and heart having faded away in the mental breakdown. You felt steadier again, just a little more.

"I love you, okay?" She whispered, her eyes on the wooden floor the porch held, but her focus being all on you.

"I love you, too. So much." You couldn't be more grateful for her. She would always be there for you, whether it be through the hard times or the light and happier times.

Liho turns back to you two and goes to lay down between your bodies. The cat always managed to find a way to come in the right times, too.

With every small step you've taken before, you knew you've come this far not to just stop. Even when it's hard. But even so, you shouldn't always hold yourself too strong. Emotions are complicated. That's just how it is, but letting go could always be a relief.

Here you were in the moment, breathing and living with your heart beating lively in your chest. The gentle touch of Nat's fingers brings you back to reality.

Everything was going to be okay.

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

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[lynderman]

𝘼 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 (Xavier Thorpe)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Date Published: 12/9/22

Synopsis: You’ve always been 2nd place. First place for losers. Attending Nevermore was supposed to change that.

A/N: (I was so confident writing this, and I feel like I went down a rabbit hole because some shit doesn't even make sense. So idk if it’s good or not. It also isn’t proofread 💀)

Part 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Vi, are you still free after fencing today? I thought I’d take you up on that offer and go down to Jericho to get-“

“Sorry. I told Wednesday I’d meet her in the nightshades library to look for a certain book.” My smile instantly vanished as he said her name. It’s not that I hate her, no. I could never. We’re best friends! Well, as close as best friends could be to Wednesday Addams. I didn’t have a reason to hate her; But I did have more than enough to be jealous. Ever since we were kids she’s always been able to one-up me.

It started with small things like getting better grades in school. Then to committing higher and bigger crimes. And it eventually reached the point where I felt like everyone in the family preferred her to me. Even my own dad! Her precious ‘Uncle Fester’, the only one who made her smile. He made everyone smile though. Every time he came home from one of his jobs, I’d get a pat on the head and Wednesday would get a hug. His niece got more love and affection from him than his own daughter did.

I thought maybe, just maybe when I came to Nevermore I’d be able to fit in. Be my own person! Make my own friends, be someone who I wanted to be. Not living in the shadows of my cousin; Being known as ‘The other Addams?’ Or ‘Wednesdays’ Cousin!’ And I was for a while. For a whole year I was just known as Me. I wasn’t compared to anyone or told to be better. In fact I was great! Fantastic, even.

I’d made captain of the fencing team, like aunt Morticia. I was first chair in almost all my classes. I had friends of my own and was always asked to hang out. People were interested in me. They wanted me for me. Especially Xavier. God, Xavier. He was drop dead gorgeous. His long hair that framed his face so perfectly. His hazel eyes so full of hope and warmth. The smile that was always on his face when I walked up to him or when we hung out. He made me feel so happy and appreciated. Just loved and seen. I would do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me!

Or so I thought.

The second that Wednesday showed up to Nevermore, any hopes I had of asking him out or just anything suddenly vanished. Like everyone else in my life, I was soon replaced by her darkening and compelling image. He became so infatuated with her. Our afternoon runs were taken away and replaced with him hanging out with her. He sat through and listened to her crazy theories all day and looked at her like she hung the stars herself. The same way he looked at me once.

My fists clenched my bag and I held back the urge to scream on the spot. Now the one time we were both free was taken away by her again? She wasn’t even a nightshade so that isn’t fair. “Have fun with that. I’ll be by the lake if you feel like I’m worth your time today.” My words seemed to get his attention because he finally looked up from his sketchbook. I caught a glimpse and saw it was an another drawing of Wednesday. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked off before he got the chance to. Or cry. Whichever came first at this point.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun shone directly onto my face as I continued to write down the finishing lyrics to my song. My plan for the day was to hang out with Xavier and show him my new music for my violin. He knew I played an instrument but he didn’t know what it was or that I sang. So I thought it’d be a good time to surprise him! But of course my plans were ruined thanks to Wednesday. Again.

Letting out a grunt of frustration, I threw my pen into the lake. “What’d the pen ever do to you?” My attention turned to Xavier’s voice behind me. I listened to the sound of the leaves crunch and stop before he sat down on my blanket beside me. I didn’t ask him to, but I always found it hard to be upset or angry with him. Peering over my shoulder he asked what I’d been writing. “Just some music. I was gonna go back to my dorm and see how it turned out.” He didn’t need to know I wanted him to go back with me.

“Really? Can I see it?” Hesitation filled my body but I still gave him the notebook. His hands flipped through my pages and the words. I prayed to god he didn’t under Latin. “You never told me you write music.” I shrugged and turned back to the lake. “You never bothered to ask.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We sat at the lake for a while and just talked. It was nice; Feeling like I got my old friend back. The way he laughed at each joke I made and seemed to be genuinely interested in my topics made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him again. “Speaking of hair-“ He reached out to twirl the white strand in my black head of hair between his fingers. “Did you just decide it was a cool fashion statement or something?” I laughed lightly and shook my head.

“No, no. Back in 6th grade I was doing a science experiment, Y’know the one where you dissect frogs right? I was cutting him open and i just electrocuted myself without realizing it. That’s when I found out I’m like my dad. The whole lightning and shit. But I can do this weird thing with weather too where-“ I paused when I realized I was getting off track. “Anyways. I zapped myself and some shit happened with my hair when I did. It was only this piece though.” Laughing I turned the other way and buried my head into my knees. “I’ve tried to dye it back but it never works. All the other kids would make fun of me and say I’d get cancer or go bald. I dunno why though, that doesn’t make sense.”

What didn’t make sense was that I was basically Trauma dumping on Xavier for no reason. All he asked about was my hair and got some sob story in return. There was silence for a moment. I knew I overshared and he’d think I’m just some attention whore. It took me by surprise when he put his hand on mine, making me turn to face him. “I think it’s cool. Makes you stand out.” The blush that spread across my face was inevitable. Like an idiot I asked: “Really?”

A smile broke out in his face as he nodded. “Do you still wanna go to Jericho? The shuttle leaves in about 20 minuets? We can go to the weathervane and maybe check out that new music store?” My stomach was filled to the brim with butterfly’s, warmth spreading throughout it. Play it cool, play it cool. Don’t freak out. Just say that sounds fun. “Yes! Of course. I’d love to.” I mentally face palmed myself with the joy in my voice. It felt like a movie moment. Was this him asking me out on a date? Xavier finally got the balls to be the one to initiate it? No thoughts were going through my mind as my body leaned closer to his, him doing the same.

I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face; A mere 6 inches between my lips and his. Just as mine were to meet his, a phone rang. His phone. He blinked and apologized before picking it up.

“Hello? Enid? Since when did you call me? No, I’m not. She was busy so I’m at the lake, hanging out with-“ Xavier paused as Enid’s voice rose over the line, his brows furrowing as she spoke. I couldn’t hear what was going on. “Yeah, sure. Give me 7-8 minuets and I can. The quad or the courtyard? Mhm, sure.” He lowered his phone and hung up. “What’d Enid call about?” Standing up he began to brush himself off. “Wednesday asked her to call me since she doesn’t ‘want to be a slave to technology’. Said something about her finding a new lead on the monster and to meet her in the nightshades library.”

“But didn’t you earlier?” He shook his head. “No, she needed to do something else and talk to someone.” My lips pursed and watched as he grabbed his sketchbook from beside my bag. “Can we uh- rain check on Jericho?” All the butterflies and warmth my stomach were replaced with dread and insect repellent. “Again?” I muttered. “It’s nothing personal, I just need to-“

“No it never is with you is it? I mean do you even care about anyone or anything other than Wednesday?” The words left my mouth before I could process what I said. “Sorry?” Now I was standing up, arms crossed as I spoke. “Sorry? Oh shut up; Stop playing dumb. We both know you’re not so don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He took a step closer to me and looked down, irritation and confusion clouding his eyes. “What’re you talking about? What’s this even coming from? Why’re you getting so worked up about us hanging out?” Scoffing I took a step back from him.

“I’m getting worked up about this because you hang out with her all the time and not me! I’m constantly being ditched and put to the side cause you wanna go waste your time who doesn’t give a single fuck about you!”

“Don’t say that. She does but just act-“

“Acts distant and cold? Stand-offish and uninterested? She’s like that with everyone. What makes you think you’re any different to her? Do you think you’re special or some shit? Wednesday’s been like this her entire life and she’s certainly not going to change for some moron of a dude.” Xavier’s face only showed confusion as I spoke. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Wednesday Addams; (Y/n) Addams? How many Addams’s in this school do you know? If you named more, I wouldn’t be surprised since you seem to pay attention to everyone else other than me.” “Not everything is about you (Y/n).” He snapped.

“You’re right. It’s not! It’s always about Wednesday. Everything is. It’s always ‘Oh, have you seen Wednesday? I’m looking for her.’ Or ‘Do you wanna see this new drawing of her? It looks better than the last!’ Anything that comes out of your mouth is about her! Have you ever noticed how you put me next to her? Below, If you will. She plays cello and you draw her. I play violin, but you never bothered to ask because you’re too busy talking about how good she sounds. You go with her to Jericho to get coffee while I’m left behind doing schoolwork. Everywhere I go I’m beneath her. I’m compared to her, I’m belittled because I’m not as edgy or mysterious as she is. My family seems to like her more too. My own father loves her more than me! Can you imagine that, Xavier? Having to live in the shadow of your little cousin because she’s so much better than you at everything? I thought the name I made for myself at Nevermore would stick! I’d have my own friends and interests and not be known as the other Addams girl. I thought that I could get away and have shit of my own! BUT NO. I CAN’T.”

The air around me felt chilly and vast, a small breeze inclining as my voice got louder. “But it’s never going to happen. Everyone will always choose her over me. I’ll always be second to her. And it’s not fair. It’s not. I try to hard at everything. Especially when making friends. I’m almost on my knees trying to get people to approach me but she just has to stand and glare at people and suddenly they’re wrapped around her finger. Like you. You’re just another string waiting to be pulled by her; Following and doing what she says like a lost puppy. You look at her with such admiration and longing in your eyes. Maybe if you turned your head the other way and fixed your eyesight, you’d see that’s how I look at you! If you weren’t so fucking blinded by her borderline manipulative tendencies you’d notice I’m the way with you you are with her.”

My hands were moving with immense exaggeration as I spoke. The feeling of static shooting through my veins when I threw them down to my sides in anger. “Look, I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about this and-“ A short circuit of lighting extended from my fingers when I held my hand up to him. “This isn’t a two way conversation right now. It’s one where you listen to every word I say because that’s all I’ve ever done for you, especially ever since Wednesday’s gotten here-“

Speak of the devil, and she’ll arrive. Looking to my left I could see her standing a few feet away from us. “I think your feelings for Xavier are getting in the way of our goal, (Y/n).” I deadpanned. “Our goal?” She didn’t answer my question, only asking another one in its place.

“How would your father feel if he knew you were letting your emotions get the better of you?”

“Gee, I dunno. Why don’t you ask him since he was with you early in the nightshade’s library!” She said nothing. “He finally shows up after being on the run again and stops to say hi! Not to his daughter, but his niece.”

“It’s not my fault if Fester approached me and not you.”

“It’s never your fault is it? Nothing ever is. You’re just perfect Wednesday who’s above all others. Especially her cousin who’s done everything in her power to help her with her bullshit conspiracies. I’ve been on your side since day one. Believing in your shit when no one else would. And how do you thank me? By stealing the few people I have In my life away from me. Again and again. It’s a never ending cycle. And I never bother to break it because we’re family, Wednesday.” The overwhelming emotion of anger and hatred died down, the slight breeze fading completely. Now it was just cold and quiet. Water began to drop onto my clothes and belongings. When I looked up I realized It was raining; But only on me. As cliché as it sounds, there was a small storm cloud hovering above my head. Hence the weather thing I was telling Xavier about earlier.

“Do you know what you struggle with, (Y/n?).” Laughing, I faced Wednesday again. “No, but I’d love to hear your piercing insight on it!” “You don’t know when to turn your emotions on and off. You let them consume and confuse you. How you’re just a fool with a slow heart; Putting out love for others only to never get any back.” The rain became heavier as she spoke, each drop hitting harder against my face. “I understand that emotions are a foreign concept for you, Wednesday, but you don’t have a right to talk about mine if you don’t have any.” Is what I’d like to have said. But it isn’t. It was more along the lines of:

“Maybe you’re right. I do love too much because no one has ever given me any. I hope that one day you’ll think about all of the love I’ve given you, and maybe feel generous to reciprocate it.” Turning from her I grabbed my bag off the now drenched blanket and sling it over my bag. “The same goes for you, Vi. When you come to your senses and realize that I have and will still do anything to get a small sliver of your validation or time, my dorm room door will be open.” I meant to passive aggressively hand him his sketchbook back, but it was really just me shoving it into his chest. I didn’t dare look back at the two as I literally stormed off into the forest.

The sun still was shining around me even as I made my way back to the courtyard, through the quad, and up to my dorm. The cloud only got bigger when I was alone in my dorm room. Sitting in my shower I thought. Thought about how Wednesdays’ right. Despite ending up with nothing, I’ll still give everyone else everything I’ve never gotten in hopes someone will one day do the same.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[two-white-butterflies]

invisible string | m33 | part one

Description: You face a career-ending injury, that forces you to give up your childhood dream. 7 years later, you return to the paddocks as a guest - and as the Team Principal of Prema Racing. What happens when feelings are too difficult to hide?

Author's Note: first part focuses more on the past. fc: courtney eaton.

Pairing: max verstappen/racer!reader

part two |

(2015, Mercedes-AMG Petronas.)

(2016, Mercedes-AMG Petronas)

your_name_updates: Y/N L/N wins first F1's German Grand Prix, with Lewis Hamilton third. @itsmee_yn

12 comments 1,293 likes

ynsupporter: I'm so proud of her

maxverstappen1: A well deserved win! WDC next? @itsmee_yn - itsmee_yn: depends if u give me a kiss for good luck - - maxverstappen1: 😳

lewisloversupports: Ya'll let girls into F1 and this happens...

iloveyoulewishamilton: This is totally unfair. Lewis should've won the GP 🤬

itsmee_yn: is it just me or is the redbull garage kinda crazy? @danydk1 @maxverstappen1

19 comments 2,183 likes

danydk1: Crazy because of a certain Mercedes driver.. 🤣

maxverstappen1: You are a spy sent from Merc loll - itsmee_yn: and ur an accomplice for letting me in

ynischampion: I hope that you win the WDC

bandanasupporter: I wish that you'll be the #1st woman WDC

LEWIS HAMILTON AND Y/N L/N'S FRIENDSHIP ON THE ROCKS: HAMILTON WILL NOT LET L/N WIN A CHAMPIONSHIP.

It is no secret that Hamilton and L/N are friends. They have posted each other on instagram, and L/N talks about him in their interviews, but according to an insider - the friendship is reaching an end. With L/N's back-to-back victories and Hamilton's lousy attacks, a rivalry is not out of the question.

When asked why Lewis Hamilton tried to overtake Y/N L/N in the German GP his response was: "What am I supposed to do? Just let the girl win? Of course not, I'm fighting for my championship. This is sports and if she doesn't understand it - she can pack her bags."

L/N is yet to make a statement.

comments

reynaduoo: this is breaking my heart 💔

mercedeslovvvv: Is Mercedes so good that they're own drivers are fighting with each other? 💀

mercedessupports: Y/N L/N and Lewis Hamilton have unfollowed each other on social media. Y/N has also taken off the "Aunt to Roscoe" on her bio.

28 comments 82 likes

isupportmercedes: Mercedes has to talk to their drivers. It's not good to see them fighting with each other on social media. - ynlewiston: it's Y/N's time to shine, Lewis should take a chill pill - - lewislovercarlos: she's 17 years old, she can win her WDC another time. Lewis deserves it more.

itsmee_yn: Me when Max's mom tells him to go home :(

129 comments 3,458 likes

maxverstappen1: BRO? - itsmee_yn: wdym bro, just call me baby

dynastyoffleng: I love Y/N and Max's friendship

(2017, MERCEDES-AMG PETRONAS)

mercedesupdates: L/N and Hamilton have crashed into each other in the Spanish GP (FIRST GP OF THE SEASON). The race has been halted and ambulances have made their way to the duo. According to bystanders and professionals, L/N has suffered a 50G crash and her car has crashed into the wall. Updates are coming soon.

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @eternalharry @milaeth @msliz @lifesuckslife @ellamae021 @1-800-simpingcowbaby @trashcanrat @ccallistata @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @georgeparisole

AS ALWAYS. COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead In Water

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Flashback to after the Wendigo hunt:

Y/N is driving Baby back to the motel to pick her bike up after the hunt and her mind runs on her dad. They could really use the help looking for John. Sighing y/n breaks the ice. "You know fellas.....the hunt for you Dad. It's getting colder. We could use some extra help" Y/N says, turning to the boys.

"You thinking what I think you're saying?" Dean says surprised. Y/N shrugs "Yeah, I could use the father-daughter bonding session" She says dryly. Sam is in the backseat processing. He brought it up to his brother earlier, there really was a fat chance of y/n saying it but never say never.

"Are you sure y/n? We know you guys haven't been on the best of terms" Sam says concerned. Y/N hasn't seen her dad in two years. Hearing is one thing but seeing him after all that time is another. Sam would know. He hasn't seen or heard from his since he left for college.

Y/N just waves it off. "Have we ever been since I gained thinking of my own?" She says laughing but there's no humor behind it. The boys exchange a look and decide to just go with with. "You fellas in?" She asks as she turns into the motel parking lot, unclipping her seatbelt. "Yeah. All in" Sam and Dean say in unison.

"Alright, I'll call him and let him know we're on our way" Y/N nods, jumping out of Baby and Sam goes to the drivers seat. F/N inherited a bunch of safehouses scattered all over the US from his family. Coming from a long line of hunters, it made sense they had a place to stay when hunting. They were quite well off surprisingly. Last they talked, he was in the Texas safehouse.

They already packed their stuff, they just needed to come back for Quinn. She fishes her phone out to call her dad but no answer.

"That's weird" She mutters to herself. She calls again five times but it goes "This is F/N L/N, I can't reach the phone right now so you can call my daughter. Y/N at (your phone number). Have a good day". The personalized voice message says each time. The boys can see y/n panicking outside and Dean steps out.

"Everything okay, Princess?" He asks her concerned and she turns to him, worry etched over her face. "He's not answering. He never does that. Even if daddy is mad at me, he always answers" She hyperventilates holding up her phone. Dean wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

Sam sees this and now gets concerned,

stepping out. Y/N's back is to him. Dean puts his hand up in a "I've got this" motion while nodding.

"Hey shhhh, it's okay sweetheart. We'll go find him" He comforts her gently, shushing her. His tone is soft and gentle, patting her head as he holds her. "Do you know the last safehouse he was at?" Dean asks, his hands still on her face, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Yeah, Fredericksburg, Texas. It's a 12 hour drive" she says, nodding quickly. Dean doesn't hesitate. They hop onto their respective vehicles and make way to the safehouse.

Y/N POV

Fredericksburg, Texas.

I pull into the safehouse's drive way in a rush, parking Quinn and running over to the porch. Dean pulls in same time in Baby, Sam holding on for dear life as his brother drives like a madman.

I knock on the door harshly screaming "Dad!?!". No answer. I pull my keys out of my pocket, hoping he didn't change the locks. I feel Sam and Dean coming up behind me. Unlocking the door and stepping in, the house is quiet. Too quiet.

We all make way to the kitchen that is empty, I rush up the stairs to my dads room. Bursting in there's no one. "Daddy!? Come on old man this ain't funny!" I scream hysterical. Praying nothing happened to him. "Y/N!" I hear Dean scream from the living room and I run the stairs. He has a note in his hand and I freeze.

"You should read this" He says softly. I take the note from him, sat on the couch and began reading.

Dear y/n/n,

I found John. I'm sorry but I can't tell you where he is, where we're headed or anything at this point in time. Do what you do best and kill as many evil bastards that go bump in the night. I am safe, John is safe so you don't need to worry, stick with Sam and Dean. You guys will protect each other.

To Dean I'm sure you're reading this too. Look out for Y/N. I can't tell you where me and your father are at the moment but soon we will meet again.

To Sammy. Please accept my deepest condolences, son. I understand the pain you must feel losing your girlfriend like that. Justice will be served, you can count on that.

Take care kids. Take care of each other.

Sincerely, F/N L/N

I finish reading the letter. Not knowing what I'm feeling. Fear? I think. Sad? Yes. Anger? Yep, that's the one. Crumpling the sorry excuse of a letter. I grab the vase that was next to me on the couch. "That SONUVABITCH!" I scream in a pure fury of rage. Throwing it at the wall causing it to smash into pieces. "Woah easy!" Sam and Dean try to hold me down from destroying to place.

Dean holds me into place, "We'll find them! I promise! We will!" He tries to calm me down but I just break down. Crying into Dean's shoulder. God I hate this. Sam looks at me, concerned and pity etched on his face. I finally get how they feel, not knowing where their dad is.

Sam walks over to us and wraps his arms around me and Dean. Now in a group hug. They comfort me the best they could but I can tell they're also pissed at the fact that my dads withholding information on where their dad is.

________________________________

Third Person POV

Sam, Dean and Y/N are at The Lynwood Inn Hotel. In its restaurant, Dean and Y/N are sitting at table after eating breakfast, looking over the newspaper for possible hits on cases.

A sexy waitress dressed in a rather revealing top and shorts comes up to them, leaning over infront of Dean. "Can I get you anything else?" She asks sultry. Dean looks up and Y/N look. Dean has his pen in his mouth tugging on his bottom lip, smiling.

Y/N's eyes trail up the girls toned body, checking her out but more subtly, not really in the mood to gawk. Noticing the way Dean is looking at the waitress, she clears her throat saying, "Just the check please" smiling tightly. "Okay" The waitress' smile at Dean drops and she awkwardly walks away.

"You know Y/N, we are allowed to have fun a little every once in a while." Dean grumbles, turning to Y/N. Pointing to the waitress walking away he says, "That's fun" and Y/N rolls her eyes annoyed. "I know how to have fun" She says scoffing, in an offended tone. "Really?" He smirks, intrigued. "When was the last time you had a hookup?" He asks probingly. "Little on the nose don't ya think?" She says cocking her eyebrow.

He puts up his hands in surrender. "Hey we're all friends here" He says chuckling. "Alright" She shrugs, sitting up properly. "Last time I had a hook up was.....the night you called me to and told me your dad was missing. Funny enough, I forgot his name and right as I was about to leave for the road to meet you. He woke up. He told me it was nice to meet me and I said 'You too, Mark'.... His name was Max" She says honestly and Deans mouth is agape.

Dean did not expect her to be that honest. He was teasing mostly, he knows Y/N is a very sex-positive confident woman who's comfortable in her own skin with every damn right to be. But thinking of another person with Y/N intimately, for some reason it makes his skin crawl and his chest hurt.

Y/N snorts at his facial expression, putting up finger on his chin to push his jaw back up into place. "Pick your mouth up from the ground there before you catch flies, Winchester" She says and Dean snaps out of it. He covers it up with a smirk.

"Damn princess, I didn't know you got on like that" he teases, his voice husky and her breath hitches in her throat. "Wanna find out, charming?" She retorts back, winking at him and biting her lips. Dean feels a heat growing in his stomach, his eyebrows shooting up. His heart is going crazy. God the things I would do to this woman. He thinks to himself.

Even if Dean could respond to that, Sam approaches the table, coffee in his hand and sits down next to Y/N. Unintentionally interrupting their "conversation".

"You two okay?" He asks, feeling like he just walked-in on something. Dean and Y/N were inches from each others faces. They turn their heads simultaneously when they hear his voice. Pulling back, Y/N clears her throat nodding, "Yeah, just looking out for some cases." She says, picking up back the newspaper, scanning it with her eyes.

Sam chuckles, hiding his smirk at their discomfort of him interrupting their little moment, shaking the sugar packet, tearing it open and pouring it into his coffee. "Here, take a look at this. Think I got one" Dean also clears his throat, trying to get rid of all his lustful thoughts, resting down the newspaper on the table.

Y/N's POV (excuse all the POV changes)

Holy fuck I should not be this turnt on right now. Why am I turnt on? Focus y/n focus! We need to find dad. I mean fuck, you're here turnt on by flirting with Dean and our fathers are missing. Real classy L/N.

"Here, take a look at this. Think I got one" Dean says, clearing his throat. He rests down the newspaper on the table and I pick it up scanning it. "Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin?" I ask questionably. Never heard of it.

"Last week, Sophie Carlton, 18. Walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water. Nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Mantitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were founded. Had a funeral two days ago" Dean explained and Sam chirped in. "A funeral?" He asks confused. "Yeah it's weird. They buried empty coffin" Dean says also confused.

"Could be for closure" I say shrugging and they look at me. "Closure? What closure?" Sam asks, amused. "People don't just disappear guys. Other people just stop looking for them" Sam shoots back shadily.

"Is there something you wanna say to us?" I ask ruggedly, crossing my arms over my chest. His face softens a bit, seeming to just remember that my dad is missing also. "I'm sorry y/n/n. But the trail for our dads....it's getting colder everyday. And your dad telling us he can't say where they are. It's all just- odd" He says softly and I bite my tongue because he's not wrong.

"Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?" Dean says. "I don't know. Something. Anything." He says annoyed. "You know what. I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think we wanna find Dad and Mr. L/N as much as you?" Dean says irritated. "Yeah I know you do. I-" Sam goes to say but Dean cuts him off.

"I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years while you've been off to college, going to pep rallies. Y/N and her dad fell out but still talked more than you and dad did. We will find dad and Mr. L/N!" Dean snaps at Sam,  authority in his voice and Sam's face drops. Ouch, that was harsh. "But until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Just like Okay?" Dean finishes and Sam sighs sadly.

Okay...awkward. The waitress from earlier walks past again and Dean's eyes roam her. I stew a bit and try to cut the tension. "Alright fellas, Lake Manitoc" I cheerfully with a fake smile and they both chuckle at my attempt to break the ice.

"How far" Sam asks.

________________________________

The Impala and Harley drive past a sign saying 'Welcome to Lake Manitoc WI.' Headed for what evil awaits us.

We pull up to Sophie Carlton's house, making our way to the porch of the rustic house. I knock on the door and a young man answers. "Will Carlton?" Dean asks. "Yeah, that's right" Will confirms.

"I'm Agent Fisher. This is Agent Ford and Hamill. We're with the U.S. Wildlife Service" I introduce ourselves, pointing to Dean then Sam and I flash him my fake badge.

________________________________

Will leads us out to the pier. An older man was sitting on the edge, looking out into the water. I assume that's his dad. "She was about 100 yards out" Will begins to explain, looking out at the lake sadly. "That's where she got dragged down" He points to the lake.

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean questions. "Yeah, she was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She's ask safe out there as in her own bathtub" Will says.

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam asks. "No, that's what I'm telling you." Will says rigidly.

"Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?" I interject. "No I- Again, she was really far out there" Will crosses his arms. "You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asks. "No, never. Why? What do you think's out there?" Will asks, now curious.

"We'll let you know as soon as we do" I say nicely, smiling at him. Me and Dean go to head back to our vehicles till we hear Sam ask Will, "What about your father? Can we talk to him?" Causing us to holt in our tracks and turn to him. "Look, if you don't mind— I mean, he didn't see anything. And he's kind of been through a lot" Will said, looking back at his father on the pier sadly. "We understand" Sam says understandingly and we all head back.

Now at the station, the boys and I try to dig deeper into the case. So we request to talk to the sheriff who isn't very compliant. "Now, I'm sorry. But why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" The sheriff asks us, skeptical.

"You sure it's accidental sir?" I ask him nicely. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister" I insist. "Like what?" Jake, the sheriff, asks annoyed. "Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake" Jakes reassures us, offering the three of us a seat. I sit in between Sam and Dean.

"There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness monster" he says sarcastically and Dean chuckles. "Yeah. Right." Before looking at me and Sam with an exhaustive look. "Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure. And there was nothing there" Jake insists.

"That's weird though. I mean, that's the third missing body this year" Dean says, leaning forward in his seat. "I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about" Jake says, sorrowly. "I know" Dean says understanding, nodding. Jake sighs, "Anyway...all this, it won't be a problem much longer" leaning back in his chair, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks. "Well, the dam, of course" Jake says, as if we should've known. Right...wildlife service. The boys and I nod in fake realization. "Of course. The dam" Dean says, looking over to Sam and I. "It has...yeah...sprung a leak" Dean says. "It's falling apart. And the feds won't give us the grant to repair it. So they've opened the spillway" Jake explains, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table.

"In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. Won't be much of a town either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that" Jake says, narrowing his eyes at us and I say "Yes sir, of course we did" smiling sweetly. We hear a knock at his office door causing all of us to turn our heads and in walks a beautiful woman in a white dress and brunette hair. "Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later" She says smiling.

We all get up and instantly I notice Dean checking her out. Ohhh boy, here we go. "Agents, this is my daughter" Jake introduces the woman as his daughter. Of course, Dean is the first to introduce himself. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean" He says, giving her his classic shit-eating grin and his hand to shake. "Andrea Barr, Hi" She says kindly, taking his hand. "Hi" He says charmingly and I internally roll my eyes.

"They're from the Wildlife Service, about the lake" Jake says. "Oh" she says and I see a little boy come out from behind her. "Oh, well, hey there sweetie. What's your name" I ask the little boy smiling. He doesn't answer or even look me in the eye and just turns, walking away. "His name is Lucas" Jake says and the boys and I look at each other in confusion.

"Is he okay?" Sam asks. "My grandson has been through a lot. We all have" Jake says somberly. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know." He says, patting Dean on his back as we walk out. "Now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?" Dean asks Andrea. Me and Sam look at each other like, "this dude ugh".

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner, it's two blocks up." She says, me and Sam turn to leave but Dean being Dean, acts clueless. "Two..? Would you mind showing us?? He says and Andrea chuckles while me and Sam roll our eyes simultaneously. "You want me to walk you two blocks?" She asks. "Not if it's any trouble" Dean smiles. "I'm headed that way anyways" She says and we all nod. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at 3. We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" She tells her dad and then turns to Lucas kissing his head. We thank Jake again and we leave.

________________________________

Now walking down the street, Dean perks up conversation. "So, cute kid" He says. "Thanks" She smiles as we cross the road to the motel. "Kids are the best huh" He says and I cringe at this, holding back my snicker. I look over at Sam who's doing the same as me. Andrea doesn't answer and just says. "There it is" Gesturing to the motel. "Like I said. Two blocks" She says sarcastically. "Thanks" Sam says.

"Must be hard, with you sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line" She adds and I burst out laughing while Dean glares at me. Andrea smiles at my reaction while Sam puts his hand over his mouth. Holding his laughter back. She crosses the road yelling out "Enjoy your stay!".

"Dude, she just owned you" I say to Dean, laughing. " 'Kids are the best' " Sam mimics Deans statement from earlier, giving him his classic bitch face. "You don't even like kids" Sam says, matter of factly. "I love kids" Dean tries to convinces us. I snort, "Name three kids that you even know" I retort, pushing my hands in my pocket.

Dean puts his fingers up, trying to think but fails. I roll my eyes, Sam waves it off annoyed and we walk into the motel. He scratches his head, stumped. "I'm thinking" He lamely says, me and Sam just ignore him and go to book a room.

________________________________

Now in the motel room. Sam's researching on his laptop, Dean's sorting out his clothes and I'm by the window smoking a cigarette trying to call my dad again. 'This is F/N L/N, I can't reach the phone right n-'

I cut the phone off, huffing in annoyance. I toss my phone on the bed almost hitting Dean. He looks at me with a concerned expression as I out my cigarette and put it in the ashtray the motel had on the nightstand. "We'll fi-" He goes to say and I cut him off. "Yeahyeah I know, we'll find them" I sigh, slouching on my bed.

He just frowns at me and I feel bad for snapping at him. "Dean I'm sorry I'm just- I just don't know why they would do this" I put my head in my hands, running them through my hair. I feel the bed next to me sink, I look up to see Dean next to me. I just look at him frowning then he rests his arms around my shoulder from the side and starts singing.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad.

Take a sad song and make it better."

I start laughing, groaning in mock annoyance.

I smile thinking about the memories of Dean singing that song to me and Sam when we were little. Whenever John and dad were on long hunts, me and Sam used to get grouchy, asking all sorts of questions and Dean would calm us down by singing it. Honestly I think singing it for calmed him down also.

"Remember to let her into your heart,

Then you can start to make it better."

"You're such a dork!" I exclaim, pushing his hand off my shoulder laughing. "I got you to smile, didn't I?" he winks at me, a wide grin on his face and my heart melts for some reason. "Thanks for that, charming" I say gratefully, looking into his eyes. "Anytime, princess" He says sweetly, chuckling. Staring back at me, I could've sworn his eyes glanced down to my lips.

"So, there's the three drowning victims this year" Sam interrupts us. "And before that?" I ask, clearing my throat and snapping out of the trance I was in. "Uh...yeah...six more spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either" He tells us. "If there is something out there...it's picking up its pace" I say, crossing my legs as I lean back on the bed, bracing on my arms behind me.

Dean eyes me up and down subtly before clearing his throat. "So what? We got a lake monster on a binge?" He says. "This whole lake monster theory, it just bugs me. I say as I get up from the bed and walk over to the desk Sam's sitting at, taking a spare chair to sit on. I turn it around and straddle it next to Sam.

"Why?" Dean questions as he leans between me and Sam's chairs, looking at the laptop. "I agree" Sam says before he continues. "Loch Ness. Lake Champlain. There are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts. But here...almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it" Sam explains but Dean notices something in the article and points to it.

"Wait. Barr. Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?" He says. "Christopher Barr, the victim in May." Sam says, clicking on the article. "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andreas husband. Lucas' father" Sam says, turning to Dean and I continue reading the article. "Apparently he took Lucas out swimming . Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned...two hours before the kid got rescued" I read.

I click on the picture of Lucas wrapped in a towel being held by a deputy. "Goddamn, poor kid. No wonder he won't talk" I say, my tone filled with sorrow, my heart starting to hurt for the kid. "Maybe we do have an eyewitness after all" Sam says, scratching his head sadly. "No wonder he was freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over" Dean says in a benevolent tone, a flash of pain in his eyes. I rest my hand on his that's still on my chair comfortingly, sighing.

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Later we're at the park taking a stroll, kids playing, swinging on monkey bars, sliding down the swirly side. The works. We needed a little breather after reading that heavy article.

I see Andrea sitting on a bench looking out at Lucas, coloring and drawing with his crayons on a brick bench.

I nudge Sam and Dean to show them she's here, Sam nods at me and we approach her. "Can we join you?" He asks and she smiles at us. Hesitantly saying, "I'm here with my son". Dean looks over, smiling he says, "Oh. Mind if I say hi?" And he walks over to Lucas while me and Sam stay behind.

"Tell your friend this whole Jerry McGuire thing is not gonna work on me" Andrea says to me and Sam as we take a seat next to her. "I don't think that's what this is about hun" I tell her. I look over intently at Dean trying to talk to Lucas.

He picks up one of the action figures next to him that looks awfully like what he played with when we were young and starts playing with it. After about 5 minutes he comes back after talking with Lucas.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me" Andrea starts explaining to me and Sam as Dean walks back to us. "Not since his dad's accident" she says sadly. "Yeah, we heard. Sorry" Dean says, empathy in his voice. "What do the doctors say?" I ask softly and she sighs.

"That it's a kind of post traumatic stress" She says and I feel bad for her. Losing her husband and her son disappearing emotionally infront of her could never be easy. "That can't be easy for either of you" Sam says. "We moved in with my dad. He helps out alot. It's just....when I think about what Lucas went through....what he says..." She says trailing off.

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with" Dean reassures her. "You know, he used to have such life" Andrea says, smiling nostalgically. "He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there....drawing those pictures, playing with those Army men. I just wish—Hey sweetie" She opens up but stops when Lucas comes over with a picture in his hand.

He doesn't look at any of us and just hands it to Dean. "Thanks. Thanks Lucas" Dean says smiling and I peer over to see what it is. It's a picture of a house with a red roof and a grassy yard. Lucas walks back to his bench.

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Later, me and Dean are in the motel room on our beds when Sam bursts in. "So, we can safely rule out Nessie" Sam says. "What do you mean?" I ask him, confused. He sits on the bed next to us and starts explaining "I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead" He says, agitation in his tone.

"He drowned?" Dean asks. "Yep, in the sink" Sam says. "What the hell?!" I say in confusion, Dean shakes his head at this. "You two were right, this isn't a creature, we're dealing with something else" Dean says. "Yeah, but what?" I ask.

"I don't know" Dean says. "Water Wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean something that controls water." He says and something clicks in my head. "Water that comes from the same sources...." I say. "The lake" Sam finishes. "Yeah" Dean agrees

"Which would explain why it's upping its body count. The lake is draining, it'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time" Sam says. "And I'd it can get through the pipes...it can get to anyone, almost anywhere. This is gonna happen again, soon." Dean says, getting up from the bed.

"And we know one other thing for sure. We know that this has got something to do with Bill Carlton" I say. "Yeah it took both his kids" Dean says. "And I been asking around, Lucas' dad, Chris? Bill Carlton's godson" Sam rests the new information on us and Dean says. "Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit".

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We walk down the short pier and see Mr. Carlton on the edge, sitting on a stool. "Mr. Carlton?" I ask as me and the boys approach him, speaking softly. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind" I say. "We're from the Department—" Dean starts but Bill cuts him off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today" Bill says, his voice absolutely broken. "Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?" Sam asks. "Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Wills death, we think there might be a connection to you or your family" Sam tries to explain but Bill isn't having it.

"My children are gone" Bill says, his voice breaking. I can't imagine how this poor man is probably feeling. "It's.....it's worse than dying" He croaks, looking up at us, tears in his eyes. My heart grieves for him. "Go away. Please" he pleads and we comply.

"What do you think?" Sam asks us as we walk back to Baby. I left Quinn back at the motel. "I think the poor guys been through hell" I say. "But it also seems like he's not telling us something" Dean adds and I nod. "So now what?" Sam asks us and Dean has this look on his face. "What is it?" I ask Dean. "Huh" He says looking over at a house that oddly looks like the one in the picture Lucas drew. "Well I'll be damned" I say, chuckling, shoving my hands in my jacket pocket.

Dean takes the picture out of his jacket, "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something" He says, opening the picture, looking over at me and Sam.

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We go to Andrea's house in hopes of Dean getting a word of two out of Lucas. "I'm sorry but i don't think it's a good idea" Andrea says. "I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes" Dean insists. "He won't say anything. What good is it gonna do?" She asks.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt" Sam tries to reason with her and her face changes, worried. "We think somethings happening out there" I add. "My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all" She tries to convince herself.

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go" Dean says. "But if there's even a possibility something else could be going on here...please let me talk to your son" He pleads and she obliges.

We all walk up to Lucas' room, the door wide open. He's sitting on the ground, cross legged. Playing with his Army men, drawings sprawled out over the ground. Dean walks up to him and stoops at eye level. "Hey Lucas, remember me?" He asks softly, and I smile at his interaction with him. He wasn't lying when he said he loves kids.

Dean moves one of the drawing of a red bicycle and sits on the ground with him. "You know, I, uh...I wanted to thank you for that last drawing" Dean says gratefully before adding. "But the thing is, I need your help again" He says but Lucas continues drawing. Dean pulls out the drawing he gave him earlier, placing it down in-front of him and asks him. "How did you know to draw this?"

"Did you know something bad was gonna happen?...maybe you could nod yes or no for me" Dean tries to get an answer somehow, but Lucas doesn't answer, he starts breathing faster and harder. I think he's scared. Dean notices this. "You're scared....It's okay. I understand" He says gently.

"See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom" Dean starts to explain and my heart sinks. He never talks about Mary unless it's 'finding the thing that killed mom'.

"And I was scared too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see my mom...I know she wanted me to be brave and I think about that everyday" He pauses, taking a breath. "And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad...wants you to be brave too" He finishes and Lucas looks up at him.

This shocks all of us, including Andrea. Lucas picks up a drawing and gives it to Dean. He says "Thanks Lucas"

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Sam, Dean and I are in the Impala after leaving. Sam is looking at the drawing that Lucas drew and gave to Dean. It was a house with a church in the background, a yellow bricked two story to be exact. In-front of the house is a gate with a little boy in a blue ball cap standing next to a red bicycle. "Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died" Dean says.

"There are cases where after going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies" I explain, I remember my dad telling me that he and my mom dealt with a case like that yearsss back.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean questions and Sam shakes his head disagreeing. "It's only a matter of time before someone else drowns. So if you got a better lead please" Dean argues but I agree with him. "We still got another house to find. And I think you've got a point" I say. "Only problem is there's about a thought yellow two stories in this county alone"

"See this church?" Sam says, pointing to the church in the drawing and I lean over, looking at the photo. "I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here" Sam says. "Ohhh, college boy. Thinks he's so smart" I tease Sam and he chuckles before mumbling "Shut it" and I smile.

He turns to Dean, a heavy look on his face. "You know, um...what you said about mom...you never told me that before" Sam says genuinely but Dean brushes it off. "It's no big deal" He says but me and Sam look at him, genuinely worried. He catches us staring and cringes.

"Oh, god. We're not gonna have to group hug or anything, are we?" And we chuckle. "Oh shut it, Winchester. I give the best hugs" I tease Dean, leaning over from the backseat. I hug Sam from behind his neck.

"Don't I, Sammy?" Sam laughs and returns the hug, holding onto my forearms with his hands. "She sure does, Dean" Sam says in a suggestive voice, going along with it, smiling. Dean just looks at us, rolling his eyes.

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Next thing I knew, we were at the church that Lucas drew for Dean. Across from the house is a yellow bricked house, just like the picture. We all make way to the house.

"We're sorry to bother you ma'am. But does a little boy live here, by chance." I ask kindly ask the sweet old lady by the name of Mrs. Sweeney who answered the door for us. "He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle" Dean adds. "No, I'm sorry. Not for a very long time." She says sadly, looking at an old picture of a young boy and I couldn't help but feel bad for her.

"Peter's been gone 35 years now" Mrs. Sweeney sighs and continues to explain. "The police never....I never had any idea what happened....He just disappeared. Losing him....You know, it.... it's worse than dying" she concludes and the bells in my head ring. Me and the boys exchange a look and turn back to the woman.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean swallows, gently asking her. "He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school...and he never showed up" She's on the verge of tears at this point. I noticed something on the mirror across the room, a picture of two young boys. Peter and one looking very familiar.

I pull it from the mirror, examining. And I turn it around. Written on the back of it was...holy shit. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970" I read it out loud. Me and the boys basically haul ass out of there and back to the Carlton's house. "Thank you for time Mr. Sweeney" I smile softly at her before the three of us leave.

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"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow" Sam starts. "Yeah, Bill sure seems to be hiding something huh?" Dean says and I nod in agreement. "And Bill, the people he loves are getting punished" I says.

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" Dean says. "What if Bill killed him" Sam instigates. "Yeah, Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible" I say as we pull into Mr. Carlton's house. We all jump out of Baby and call out for him. "Mr. Carlton!" Sam calls out for him but no answer.

"Hey, check it out" Dean draws our attention to the lake. In the lake is Bill going out on his boat. Oh no. We all run towards the pier in a hurry. "Mr. Carlton! Come back!" We all begin yelling when we reach the edge of the pier but he keeps going further. "Please! Don't do this!" I scream, waving my hands in the air but he doesn't listen.

"Turn the boat around!" Dean yells. "Mr. Carlton!" Sam yells. Bill looks back at us and keeps going fast. In a split seconds, his boat is thrown into the air. Toppling over, causing the three of us the flinch. The boat falls top first and sinks into the lake. Son of a bitch.

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We call in the "accident" and all head back to the station. Jake just behind us. Entering the station, Andrea sees us. "Sam, Dean, Y/N. I didn't expect to see you here" She says surprised. Jake looks shocked at her friendly demeanor.

"So now you're on a first name basis? What're you doing here?" He says, slightly annoyed. "I brought you dinner" Andrea says and Jake sighs. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't really have the time" He says, taking his jacket off and her face drops. She looks over at us and notices the look on our faces.

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?" She asks, crossing her arms. "Right now, we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home" Jake says to his daughter and we look over at Lucas. And uneasy look on his face. Lucas runs and grabs onto me and Dean's arm. Pulling him frantically, panicking.

"Lucas! Wait, what it is?" He asks him, concerned at his erratic behavior. "Lucas!" Andrea says, pulling Lucas off of Dean. I kneel down and say, "Lucas it's okay. Hey sweetie. It's okay." I rest my hand on his head comfortingly, calming him down. Andrea ushers him out of the station and he looks back at me and Dean. A worried look on his face.

Jake dashes his coat in anger on the chair and goes into his office as Dean and I look back at Lucas. We all file in after and Jake begins chewing us out "Okay, just so I'm clear...you see something....attack Bills boat....Sending Bill, who is a very good swimmer.....by the way. Into the drink and you never see him again?" Jake asks suspiciously.

"Yeah. That about sums it up" Dean says as we all nod. "And I'm supposed to believe this? Even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake. And what you're describing is impossible??" He says, getting agitated. "And you're not really Wildlife Service" he adds and our faces drop. Oh shit. "That's right, I checked. The Departments never heard of you three" He says, his tone accusatory.

"See, now we can explain that—" I try to explain, lying my way out but he cuts me off. "Enough. Please." Jake says fed up. He's not even yelling. "The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bills neighbors say him steering your that boat just before you did" He says. "So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance or we can chalk this all up to a bad day. You get into your car, you put this town in your rear-view mirror and you don't ever darken my doorstep again" He points his finger at us angrily, giving us an ultimatum.

"Door number two sounds good" Sam says, cheekily. "That's the one I'd pick" Jake growls and we all leave. Something doesn't feel right however. This is going to happen again and Jakes failure to compliance will cause many deaths.

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We all left for the motel to pick up my bike and are now at the turn off into Milwaukee waiting for the light to change. I'm next to The Impala on Quinn, the windows rolled down.

The light changes and I see Dean doesn't move. Flipping the visor of my helmet up, I hear Sam sarcastically. "Green" to his brother. "What?" He asks, clearly deep in thought. "Lights green" I say and they turn their heads to me, outside on my bike.

Dean looks at me and waves his finger in the air in a circular motion, indicating for us to turn back around and go back to Lake Manitoc. I couldnt just left just like that either. I sigh, nodding and flipping my visor down. Following behind him.

We're now back at Andrea's house. Me, Sam and Dean are at her front door when Sam begins to get skeptical. "You sure about this? It's pretty late, guys" Sam says impatiently. Neither of us answer and I ring the door bell. Almost immediately after I do this, the door flies open. A panicked and scared Lucas opening it.

He's gasping for air and this alerts us all. "Lucas? Lucas?!" Dean grabs a hold of him but he runs off into the house, we all follow behind quickly. He runs up the stairs and as we follow behind it, we notice it's flooded with mucky water coming out of what seems to be the bathroom.

Lucas tries knocking the door down but I pull him aside and kick it down. Inside is Andrea, drowning, being pulled down in the tub. Me and Sam run in, trying to pull her out but she's being held down tightly. Dean stays outside with Lucas, shielding him from the sight.

Me and Sam groan and scream from the pressure that's pulling her down but eventually get her up, falling over onto the ground with her onto of us with her gasping for air.

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The next morning, Andrea is all dried up. Me and Sam are in her living room trying to comfort her. Dean went to look for some kind of clues on what's going on. "Can you tell us hun?" I ask her calmly, resting my hand on her comfortingly. "No....It doesn't make saying sense. I'm going crazy" She sobs, looking up and putting her face in her hands.

"No, you're not" Sam reassures her. "Tell us what happened. Everything" He says. She takes a deep breath, recollecting her self and thoughts of the events prior. "I heard....I thought I heard...There was this voice" She breathes out, trailing off. "What did it say" I ask gently. "It said... 'Come play with me' " She says, fearfully, starting to sob again at the thought. "What's happening?" She asks, panicked.

Not too long after, Dean rushes downstairs with a photo album labeled 'Jake, 12 years old'. Resting it opened on the table, on the page is a picture of a group of Boy Scouts. He turns to Andrea and queries her, "You recognize the kids in these pictures", pointing at the group picture as he leans on the table. "What" Andrea asks confused.

"Oh, hmmm...No. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must've been about 12 in these pictures" She says, pointing at the young boy, standing next to Peter Sweeney, our vengeful spirit. "Chris Bart's drowning, the connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It was the sheriff" Dean says, turning to us. "Bill and Sheriff. They were both involved with Peter" I clarify, referring to the picture of Peter and Bill.

"What about Chris? My dad? What are you talking about?" Andrea asks us, panicked and confused. "Lucas?" Dean says worriedly, looking at Lucas who's staring out the window."Lucas, sweetie, what is it?" I ask gently but he stares ahead, opening the door and we all follow out into the yard.

"Lucas? Honey?" Andrea's voice is shaky, trying to break through to her son. Lucas stops at a random spot in the yard, looking down it and back up to Dean. I get an eery feeling from it. "Why don't you and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" I say softly to Andrea, she looks at me then at Dean who nods his head and then she grabs her son. Dragging him back to the house.

The boys and I get some shovels that were in Baby and begin digging. After a couple minutes we hit something solid, now using our hands to dig it it out. I grabbed onto what felt like a handle and with the help of the boys we pulled it out. Buried is a red bicycle like what Lucas drew. Holy shit. "Peters bike" Sam says.

We then hear a familiar voice and the cocking of a gun behind us. "Who are you?" Jake, the sheriff, has his gun pointed at me and the boys. "Put the gun down Jake" I said firmly. Jakes trembling with anger. "How did you know that was there" He asks, terrified. "What happened? You and Bill killed Peter? Drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?" Dean says accusatory.

"You can't bury the truth Jake. Nothing stays buried" I say harshly. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Jake denies it and I shake my head. "You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell we're talking about" Dean says, not letting him up.

"Dad!" Andrea yells, seeing her father pointing a gun at us. "And now you've got one seriously pissed of spirit." I interject. "It's gonna take Andrew, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them and it's gonna drag their bodies to God knows where. So you can feel the Sam pain Peters mom felt" Sam says lowly while Jake glares at us and Andrea looks terrified.

"And then, after that, it's gonna take you. And it's not gonna stop until it does" Sam finishes. "Yeah? And how do you know that?" Jake presses. "Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton" Sam says. Jake shakes his head in denial. "Listen to yourself. Both of you, you're insane" Jake says. "I don't really give a rats ass what you think of us, but if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them and burn them into dust" Dean explains to him harshly and Jake has this look on his face of guilt.

"Tell me you buried Peter somewhere and tell me you didn't just let him go into the lake" I say suspiciously and he doesn't look me in the eye which only confirms my suspicions. "God dammit Jake" I growl. "Dad, is any of this true" Andrea pipes up. "No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous" Jake still denies the fact, still pointing the gun at us.

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad look at me!" She demands. "Tell me you didn't kill anyone" But just like before, he couldn't look his daughter in the eye. Her face drops, "Oh my god" she gasps.

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one, we always bullied him. But this time it got rough.." Jake begins to confess. "We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to....but we held him under too long, and he drowned" Jake confesses sorrowfully and Andrea looks horrified.

Now turning to us, "We let the body go..and it sank" Jake says, turning back to his daughter. "Oh, Andrea. We were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris...Because of some ghost? It's not rational." He tries to justify their actions and to be honest, it sickened me.

"Alright, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake. As far as we can, right now." Dean starts to instruct them but Andrea looks over and gasps. We all look in the direction she is and notice Lucas is out by the water. "Lucas!" Jake yells and we all burst into the direction he's in.

"Lucas!" Me and Dean yell as Lucas is sticking his hand in the water. "Baby, stay where you are!" Andrea calls out to her son but he can't heard us. Just before we reach the edge of the pier, Lucas is pulled into the water, I see the head of a little boy, pale, poking out of the water, looking at Jake. Jake notices this too and gasps. It has to be the ghost of Peter Sweeney.

Sam, Dean and I waste no time and dive headfirst into the lake. Searching for Lucas. I see Andrea taking off her jacket to jump it in but I stop her cuz the ghost could drag her down too. "Andrea! Stay there!" I call out to her. "No! Lucas!" She screams for her son. "We'll get him, just stay on the dock!" Sam instructs her as we look for Lucas.

"Sam? Y/N?" Dean calls out to us but we shake our heads. No sign of him. "Lucas, where are you?" Andrea sobs and we dive back down into the water to look for him. I hear Jakes voice on the surface, calling out to Peter pleadingly. "Peter, if you can hear me, please. I'm sorry" I resurface and see Jake getting into the water. "Jake get back! He'll take you too!" I warn him as Andrea pleads, "Daddy. Daddy, no!"

"Im so sorry. Let me- Lucas, he's just a little boy" Jake pleads, getting further into the water . "Please, it's not his fault, it's mine. Please take me!"

"Jake! No!" Dean yells out to him and Jake starts to struggle, being dragged down. "Just let it be over!" he screams. "Daddy! Daddy!!" Andrea screams for her father. Me and the boys dive back down. Me and Sam resurface back after not finding anything, looking over to Andrea shaking our heads.

Soon after, Dean resurfaces also, Lucas in his hands. I breathe out the breath I was holding back. If that little boy died, I didn't know if I could handle that.

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The next day. Sam, Dean and I are getting ready to leave the motel. Though we did save Lucas. I can't help but feel bad that Jake died doing it. We toss our bags in baby and I go to hop on my bike. But I notice Dean is awfully quiet, I turn to him.

"Look, we're not gonna save everyone Dean" I say calmly and Sam nods in agreement. "I know" He sighs. "Sam, Dean, Y/N" we hear a familiar voice call out to us, it's Andrea with Lucas. "Hey" Dean says smiling as Lucas runs up to us with a plate filled with what looks like sandwiches.

"We're glad we caught you. We just, um...We made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself" She says smiling and Lucas looks up at his mom. "Can I give it to them now?" He says and a smile breaks across my face, it's so good to hear him talk, my heart bursts with joy.

"Of course" Andrea says, kissing Lucas on his head. "Come on Lucas. Let's load this in the car" Dean says smiling, talking Lucas to carry the sandwiches to the car. We watch smiling as they walk off and me and Sam look at her. He crosses his arms and I ask her softly "How're you holding up hun?"

She sighs before answering, "It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" She says and we nod understandably. Sam sighs and says "Andrea, I'm sorry". She smiles at us regardless and says, gratefully "You guys saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to....hold onto that".

I understand where she's coming from. I'd hate to admit it, but regardless anything, my dad raised me the best he could. For a man who had no idea what he was doing, he taught me how to make it out there as a hunter. I love him through everything and the fact that he's missing with John who's also like a father to me. I'm worried to my core that somethings wrong.

We walk back to the car and see Dean high-fiving Lucas after he thought him the phrase, "Zeppelin Rules!" And I smile at this gesture. The smile leaves my face when I see Andrea lean over and kiss Dean. I feel an aching in my chest when she does it for some reason, like my stomach and chest is on fire.

Turning my head away so I don't have to look, Sam look at me with a twinge of pity. "Thank you" She says gratefully. Dean give a a small back, scratching his head, he looks at me and I don't meet his eyes. Clearing his throat he says, "Sam, Y/N move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road" He walks over to the driver seat.

I head on over to my bike, starting her and revving my engine. And we're off.

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