#once i got asked by a stranger if i was old enough to drive.

[websterss]

COMING BACK (1) — ETHAN LANDRY

REQUEST: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

WORD COUNT: 1,655

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

PART 2: HAPPY ENDING / SAD ENDING

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

[princessamericachavez]

Even before the episode, while rewatching old seasons, I was just struck by how big an impact Buck’s had on Eddie’s life. 

Like, please, picture this: 

You are Eddie Diaz, ok? An army vet who quite literally just went through an extremely traumatic experience, immediately got left by your wife and in a desperate move to find happiness for you and your son you move across the country to start a new life. 

You are the new guy at work and this man about your age really has it out for you. That’s fine by you. You’ve put up with enough bullshit in the army, you are just here to do your work, it’s harder than that to get under your skin. Plus, this guy seems okay, aside from all the dick measuring, and you’re sure he’ll tire himself out if you just don’t play along. Then, oh surprise, after a single shift you give the guy one compliment and he folds completely, before you know it he’s decided you two are friends. Fine, good. You miss the army’s camaraderie. This will probably be just like that. 

Few weeks in, Christopher comes up. You hesitate because you don’t like talking about your kid with strangers, but you are worried about him being out there alone during the earthquake and there’s really no way to avoid the subject forever. You’re already dreading the pity looks from people who don’t understand this kid is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Instead, you get a wide smile, “he’s super adorable, I love kids”. In retrospect, you should’ve expected it. What you don’t expect is the way Buck spends the entirety of the shift reassuring you that Chris is alright, even when you’re pretty sure you’ve done nothing to betray your worry (you know better than to panic, it does nothing to help), but Buck seems to notice anyway and keeps sprouting curiosities to reassure you. He even drives you across the torn up town at a reckless speed to make sure you can reach your son as soon as possible. 

Few weeks later, abuela has an accident. Buck drives you to the hospital, even though you could’ve taken a cab to the firehouse to pick up your truck, and goes all the way in with you. He’s a good friend like that. Turns out, he’s a very good friend, because he catches you by surprise calling ahead to let the Cap know you need help with Chris and arranges a whole day of him hanging out with the 118. You didn’t ask for it, and he doesn’t expect so much as a ‘thank you’. 

Next night, he makes a big deal of introducing you to a woman and you are already dreading, once again, the reveal moment when you have to explain that thank you very much but you are still married and really your only priority right now is your son and- wait, that woman is the perfect caretaker that might or might not be the solution you’ve been desperately searching for to get your and your son’s life together.

This guy you just met a few weeks ago has given you friendship, reassurance, company, thoughtful help without you ever asking (you’ve never been good at asking for it) and he’s just sitting there smiling proudly while he helps you possibly assure your kids future.

All of this... it happens in the first FOUR episodes of s2 after Eddie is introduced. No wonder he’s in love ride or die for Buck. Who wouldn’t be?

In a year, they are inseparable. In two years, Eddie makes him Christopher’s legal guardian in case he dies. In three, Buck saves his life. In four they are basically a family and the person Christopher goes to in a panic. Five years in, Buck is in a coma and Eddie Diaz cannot even look at him, cannot picture a world where he’s dead, cannot envision his life without him. 

[fakesimp]

Hired? Or Claimed? , With Shu Yamino

Warning !

Mentions of Blood, Drugs ; Shanti! Shu ; Strangers— Acquaintence— Lovers? ; Lowkey Possessive! Shu ; Modern set timeline ; Unestablished Relationship

A/n !

IMEJFJENWIWJDFF—

before you guys say anything, Some beautiful, lovely followers, those who is kind enough to share, ..yes, I thank you personally for that 🙏🏻 I hope you have a great day.

And I wrote this, based on fanarts I've seen, and a theory I found about Shanti and Mafia being related. Whoop. Enjoy!

Also Happy birthday My Beloved Sorcerer.

➶◜◝➴

How did you ended up here?

Oh, right, it's because you have some debts to pay, but you have no money with you.

Weeks of you trying to find a decent job kept failing for some reason, it drives you insane. You never thought the day of you doing some type of dirty job will ever come.

You, who got no choice, decided to dive into the dark side of the internet, the world maybe, trying to see if there's anything, a job you can find with big earnings.

Your eyes scanned through the screen of your phone, and laptop, to see if there's any response to your post upon is there any job out there to get big amount of money without doing much, dirty work.

Hours have passed.

You were about to give up until you see a notification coming from your phone, an anonymous message, asking you, would you like some help to pay your debts?

You opened the message, to see there is more to their message. The anonymous message also included their location to meet up, you were skeptical on going to the location or not.

It could be a fraud. But you did say that any job would be fine as long as it gave you a big money in the end, you would take the risk.

After contemplating for awhile, you finally decided to check out the place tomorrow. Also, just in case, you also bought some taser, and other self protection things.

You will never know what's gonna happen when you're on your way there, the chances of you getting in danger is there. You are literally going to visit an unknown place, of course at least you need some, self protection right?

. . .

You are starting to regret you choice on coming over to the location that was sent by the anonymous person. You are walking down the dark alleyway despite the sun is high up in the sky, you looked at your phone once again to see where you're going.

And then you stopped by a building, that is quite, clean also, welcoming? Depsite other buildings that looks not so friendly for you.

You looked around one last time, and checked your phone. It says that you have arrived at the destination, you look around the door, and the walls to see if there's anything, you can press to let the person? Or people inside.

But you didn't find any, so you ended up knocking on the door. There was no response at the first 5 minutes, you knocked again. There is also no reponse, third time is a charm, right?

You were just about to knock again and the door swung open, revealing the person standing behind it. They tilt their head slightly, scanning you from head to toe. "You, .. You're the person who needs their debt to be paid?" You blinked, and slowly nod your head.

"I was, the person in [ ... ], asking for a job— you reached out to me in my dms—" "Oh, come in, I will escort you to his room."

You followed the person, looking around the place, it's very japanese vibe, you can see some of the furnitures, walls, doors are built like a Japanese old houses. Not to mention the sweet scent scattered around the place, you noticed that the person took you to the deeper side of the building.

And then they stopped, knocking by the door. Speaking something in Japanese? Not long after you heard a voice coming from behind the door, the person turned to you—

"Inside, he is waiting for you."

He said as he took a step to the side, and slowly opening the door for you. You see a figure inside, though vaguely, since there is a curtain separating you and the person inside.

You stepped into the room, and the door closes behind you. You bit your lower lip as you look at the person behind the curtains, it didn't really let you see exactly how the male looked like. All you can see is just his silhouette, and it's also vaguely too. You can see them because of the dim lighting from his side, you then heard footsteps behind the curtain.

"I heard from my underling you needed to find a job?" His honeyed voice echoed throughout the room, tickling your eardrums with his voice. "Y, Yes, I need to pay my debts— and, I couldn't get any decent job so—" Before you can finish your sentence, you heard a low chuckle from his side.

Made you who had been fiddling with your fingers, and looking on the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, finally looked up.

And then you noticed that the silhouette is standing so close to you, making you inhaled sharply upon the realization how close he is.

"I can give you a job, a simple one even, as long as you don't get caught. You are going to be fine." He said, making you sweat upon his statement, what does he mean caught? What job is he going to offer you? "I'm, I'm sorry but, what job am I working on—?"

"Delivering drugs." He casually said and then the next thing that happened, there is suddenly a gust of smoke slips through the curtains— making you instinctively stepped back, "Don't worry, for now it's just a simple delivery in town." He added.

Is he trying to convince you to deliver drugs for him right now? "Well? It's just a simple job after all," He walked away and you then heard some ruffling from his side. "About your debts, you don't need to worry, they will be paid entirely, guaranteed." He said, now you're contemplating even harder.

So in exchange of delivering drugs for him, you get your debt paid entirely. You stood there for a good minute, trying to think if you should take the risk or not. If you're caught then you'll end up behind bars, and that is something you wished that rather not happened if you actually decided to deliver drugs for this man.

"Okay, Y, you just want me to deliver drugs right? In town?" "Yes, so this means you're accepting the offer?" You bit your lips, you closed your eyes— "Yes.. I accept your offer, you will pay my debts, right?" "Yes, your debts will be paid, don't worry." You heard another low chuckle coming from his side.

"Well, then, I look forward for how you're doing," He hummed softly, you then smelled a sweet scent coming from his side. "You better don't do anything weird, reporting to the police or such, or you will get the consequences.

And I believe you wouldn't like it the slightest, well then, good luck, new recruit."

. . .

That was 6 months ago, a lot have happened in that 6 months, there was up and downs. But one thing for sure is that your boss, who's called as Shu Yamino. Kept his words, he paid your debts. Everything was paid after your 3 months of working with him, the drug package is getting bigger and bigger the longer you work for him. And the range of you sending the drugs had gone further from your first month working, it went outside the town. Even countries.

And right now, you're on your way back to meet with Shu, you just got back in town from going abroad to another country to send off some drugs, how did the drug manage to go pass the scan? Only God knows how. At least the drugs are sent away, and delivered safely.

The moment you arrive at the building you are greeted with blood trails, making you quite concerned. But then you remembered what Shu said—

"If you ever see blood in the building, anywhere. Ignore it, your job is simply delivering drugs, you don't need to get yourself involved into other things."

He said so on your first month working with him, and that got your heart skipped a beat thinking about it. That means there is some fighting also, killing? Maybe? Involved in this damn place.

Even after 6 months, you still getting goosebumps on thinking about the bloodbath happening. You took a deep breath as you continue stride forward, trying to ignore the blood trails. But you can no longer ignore them when you realized the blood trail leads to Shu's room.

Did he got hurt?

You pondered upon the thought, you slowly knocked on the door, you heard shuffling inside the room, and after awhile you heard a familiar voice coming from the other side.

"Who is it?" He asked, "It's me" You replied, he then went silent, you know that his silence meant that you can go inside. You slowly opened the door and stepped inside, the smell of iron strokes your nostrils as soon as you went inside.

You never really see how Shu looked like, only some of his underlings saw him, but most of his underlings never saw him personally. That is including you.

You took a deep breath, "The drugs have been delivered," you started off, you didn't hear anything from him for a good minute. "I see, good job. You can take a few days off, you've done well the past 2 months." He said and then you heard another soft shuffling from his side.

"... Um," You blinked, stared at his silhouette behind the curtain. "I, Know you said that I shouldn't get involved in other things other than delivering drugs—" You spat out, "But I can't help it— Are you, okay—"

He did not say anything for a good minute, making you start to regret asking how he's doing. But the next thing you knew you heard footsteps coming closer, and closer and closer.

Eventually you see his silhouette right before you, the one that separates you is just the curtain. "The blood, is the reason why you're worried, no?" He asked barely in a whisper, you hesitantly replied— "Y, Yes.."

You don't know how long this silence had been going, but then slowly you saw his hand go through the curtain, his slender fingers reached out to you from behind the curtain. Silently inviting you to go to his side, you stared at his hand, you don't know where the courage came from—

But you placed your hand on top of his, he then slowly pulled you through the curtains. And you finally can see who you're working for—

Shu Yamino, his raven hair, his piercing purple eyes staring down at you. "It is not my blood." He said, he didn't let your hand go, but you didn't even realize he' still holding your hand.

You couldn't get your eyes away from his eyes, it's so, beautiful, also, tantalizing. It made you feel like you're getting hypnotized, "Are you okay?" He chuckled softly as he dangerously leaned closer to you.

"Huh? O, oh!— I, yes- I'm, okay—" You felt embarrassed upon staring at the man oh so shamelessly, he is your boss! And you just shamelessly stared at him.

He is pretty, you can't really blame yourself upon seeing his, beauty. You looked away from him and took a step away, only to realize that his hold on your hand tightens. "Where are you going, hm?" He asked in a whisper, he then pulled you closer.

The next thing you knew, he blew out some smoke to the side, before he looked back at you. His eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly annoyed with how you stepped away from him.

"I— No where—? I, I should go back home—" You were about to pull your hand away from his hold, only for him to pull you even closer to him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. "Are you scared?" He asked, his face is right beside your ear, whispering huskily at your ear.

"Why are you trying to run away from me?" He asked once more, making your whole body shiver. "I, I don't know—" You replied, you then felt his hand on your lower back, pulling you in even closer than before. Making your hips pressed against his, his other hand brushed against your hair, kissing the tip of your hair as he leaned closer to you.

"Sweet.." He whispered, you realized that his clothing is painted with red, not too much but you can smell the blood iron stroking your nostrils due to how close he is to you. "Sweet..?" You repeated—

"Your scent.." He hummed softly, the next thing you knew, his face buried at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You don't know what's happening. There is so much happening within a span of a minute, making you confused. Why does he act like this? You never really talked much to him, other than reporting. You two do have small talks before, but it's not much since he seemed to be so busy.

But from what you heard, Shu knew how his underlings looked like, despite them not knowing how he looked like. "I am curious, ..." He whispered, "how long you will last" he added, you then felt his lips brushing against your skin. Making your body shiver once more, "What, ..do you mean?" You asked shakily, trying to breathe properly.

"Not many of my underlings stayed, they either died or getting captured." He added, "But you at the other hand," he sighed. "You handled your job very well, you never underestimate the work that is given." He continued, his hand on your lower back gently moved up and down. As if he's trying to soothe you.

"... I'm sorry, You can leave now" He said, but before literally letting you go, he planted a soft kiss on your neck before stepping away from you.

"You can forget whatever happened just now,

Or..

You can stay. Your choice."

©fakesimp . 2024

A/n !

How are you feeling with the ending JWNSHHWHEHED, I don't know how to end it. But i feel content with it heheheh.

Also Shu Yamino.

How dare you be hotter. That is a crime.

[saturnville]

dancing with a stranger, major john egan

pairing: major john “bucky” egan x black fem oc (amelia mae)

content: an alternative meeting between john and amelia mae

an: I was listening to dancing with a stranger by sam smith and normani on repeat and hadddd to write. enjoy

“We should go out tonight!” Eden Marie exclaimed with a cheerful smile on her face. The younger woman looked over her shoulder slowly, eyebrows raised and lip turned up in the corner. Between them, Eden was the social butterfly with enough energy to power a water machine. Amelia, on the other hand, lost her drive to socialize when a mishap with a boy left her heart broken into two.

“Since when do I go out?” asked Amelia. Amelia Mae wasn’t big on leaving her home. She preferred studying, reading, and making new outfits with her needles and threads. The outside world had nothing to offer her but pain. She wasn’t big on giving it another chance. She dropped her newest project into her lap and glanced at her doe-eye best friend, whose bottom lip was poked out.

“Since the military men are back in town. Didn’t you hear? The U.S. pilots are back from their mission oversees. And word on the curb is they love a good time, especially with the locals.”

Amelia snorted. “Partying with drunk military men doesn’t seem like the best way to spend my Friday night, Judy. And, since when do white military men take an interest in Black girls?”

Eden's eyes touched her brain as she grunted in aggravation. Amelia the Pessimist. “They don’t have to take an interest. They’re men at the end of the day. Smile, wave, and get yourself a free drink. Let loose for once, Mellie! The books ain’t going anywhere, your thumbs are busted from stabbing yourself with needles, and you’ve made three shirts since yesterday! Take a break.”

Amelia’s jaw ticked as the wheels began to turn in her head. Though she hated to admit it, Eden had a point. She was 20 years old. There was more to life than sulking her life away in the house out of fear of the unknown. With a deep sigh, Amelia finally nodded. “Fine, fine!”

Eden jumped up and squealed. “We’ve got an hour. They touch down in the States soon.” She grabbed Amelia’s hands and pulled her up from her seat.

“How do you know all of this?”

“I have my ways!”

Discomfort was the best way to describe what she felt. The local pub was crowded. Wall to wall with military men and groupies alike. The air was thick with sweat, hard liquor, and cigarettes. Amelia turned her lip up in disgust. She began to regret her decision.

Eyes were on them when they entered. Not because they were the only women there, but because they were the only Black women there. Amelia frowned and turned to Eden, “I thought the girls were coming?” Eden shook her head, informing her that the girls, twins Anna Marie and Betty, were caught up by their parents on the way out of the door. “Damn.”

“We still have each other! That’s all that matters. Snagged cash from my dad; let’s get a drink.” The two young women entered the bustling pub, weaving through the crowd until they reached the bar. Eden flagged down the bartender with a bright smile, while Amelia surveyed the room with unease.

As Eden ordered their drinks, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. She watched as the military men laughed and joked with their friends, their camaraderie evident in their easy smiles and relaxed postures. Despite Eden's enthusiasm, Amelia couldn't bring herself to join in the revelry.

Their drinks arrived, and Eden nudged Amelia with an encouraging smile. "Come on, Mellie. Let's mingle."

Amelia took a sip of her drink, the bitter taste of alcohol burning her throat. It wasn’t what she was used to, but she wouldn’t swear it off. She followed Judy as they made their way through the crowd, exchanging polite nods with the men they passed.

Suddenly, Eden stopped in her tracks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "There he is!" she exclaimed, pointing towards a group of men gathered in a corner.

Amelia's heart sank as she realized who Eden was referring to. Among the group stood a tall, handsome man with a confident demeanor and a charming smile. He seemed to command attention effortlessly, drawing the gaze of everyone around him.

"He's one of the pilots," Eden whispered excitedly. "I heard he's single too."

Amelia's stomach churned with apprehension. She had no interest in getting involved with a military man, especially one who was undoubtedly used to having his pick of women. She took a step back, her desire to leave the pub growing stronger by the second.

But before she could voice her objections, Judy was already making her way towards the group, leaving Amelia with no choice but to follow. As they approached, the man turned towards them, his gaze locking with Amelia's.

"Hey there," Eden greeted him with a flirtatious smile. "Mind if we join you?" The gaze of other men followd suit. Judy’s eyes found those of Major Gale Cleven, a blue eyed, blonde-haired cutie with a curious gaze.

The man's smile widened as he gestured towards the empty seats beside him. "Not at all. The more, the merrier."

Reluctantly, Amelia took her seat, her discomfort growing with each passing moment. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into a situation she wasn't prepared for, and as she glanced at the pilot beside her, she couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into.

As the evening progressed, Amelia found herself growing more comfortable in John's presence. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and she couldn't help but be intrigued by his charm.

At one point, she noticed John glancing at her lipstick as she responded to a question he asked her. Her lips were painted a rich shade of red. It complimented the deep hue of her skin beautiful. “Couldn’t help but notice your lipstick,” he said playfully. “Looks real pretty on you.”

Amelia chuckled bashfully at the compliment. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice softening. “It’s my favorite shade.”

John’s eyes glistened with interest as he leaned in closer. "I can see why," he said, his voice low and intimate. "It's bold. I like it. Bold is good.”

Amelia's heart skipped a beat at his words. As the conversation continued and the alcohol raced through her system, she suddenly felt drawn to him. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she realized that John was flirting with her, testing the waters to see how she would respond.

As they continued to talk, John's hand brushed against her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She glanced down at his hand, strong yet gentle, then back up at him, her heart racing in her chest.

John met her gaze with a knowing smile, his eyes filled with mischief. "Sorry," he said, his voice husky. "Couldn't resist."

Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine at the touch of his hand, but instead of pulling away, she found herself leaning into him.

As the night wore on, the music in the pub grew louder, and John extended his hand to her, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

Amelia hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never been one to dance with strangers, but there was something about the pilot that made her want to take a chance. Maybe it was his charming demeanor, his sly smile, or the fact that her two drinks had her nerves at ease. Whichever way, she’d take Judy’s advice and live.

With a smile, she placed her hand in his, and they made their way to the dance floor. As they moved together to the rhythm of the music, their bodies pressed close, she felt a sense of connection unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was much different than those of men she previously dated, and while she wanted to get in her head about it, she chose not to.

“You know, I don’t dance with strangers often,” she said against his ear.

“I can tell. You look at me like I had five heads when I asked. But, now you see I don’t bite…not too hard at least.” Amelia gasped and poked his chest. John chuckled. “I’m kidding, darlin’.”

Over the music, their conversation grew. Once the song ended, they migrated to a small corner, their words mingling with laughter and shared secrets. Amelia was perched against the wall, her hands across her chest with John just centimeters away from her, hand on her waist and body caging her in.

Amelia’s giggles were interrupted by Eden's appearance. “Don’t mean to rain on your parade but it’s getting late and your parents are probably pulling their hair out.” John glanced at Amelia, who seemed to be upset that their time together was ending. With a nod, she told Eden she’d be with her shortly.

“Well,” Amelia sighed, dropping her hands. “It was lovely meeting you, John. Thanks for a good time.” She pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth, dangerously close to his lips.

John nodded. “It’s my pleasure. Spending a night with a pretty girl? Would never decline.” Amelia smiled. “Get home safe. And don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

The young woman dug into the small purse tucked underneath her arm. Out of it she pulled a wrinkled piece of paper and pen. John eyed her as she scribbled upon it. Her number. Amelia placed it in his palm and grinned. “I won’t if you won’t. Have a good night, Major.”

As John watched Amelia walk away, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His eyes dropped to the number in the palm of his hand.

The night had been unexpected, exhilarating even. He couldn't shake the feeling of connection he'd shared with her, the way her laughter had lit up the room and her eyes had sparkled with mischief. And as he pocketed the slip of paper with her number, he knew that this chance encounter was just the beginning of something special.

[luvrhischier]

never let go // trevor zegras

part 1 pairing: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 3.9k (i’m sorry i went overboard again)

a/n: jumps between povs, each part is labeled and split by long black divider though (if you don’t like this sort of thing, sorry <3), no use of ‘y/n’ again.

warnings: none (i think)

(him)

Trevor just stood there, his legs wouldn't move, no matter how badly he wanted them to. He wanted to run after you but he couldn't. From his frozen haze he saw Luke run out the door. That should be him running to you and he knew that.

"Everybody out! Party's over!" Jamie yelled. Everyone quickly walked out. Jamie looked over to Nico. “Can you make sure everyone who shouldn't be driving gets an Uber, I'll pay, I don’t even care anymore just please make sure everyone is safe and out of here." Nico nodded and left, dragging a still slightly drunk Jack with him. He would be no help to the conversation about to happen in the state he was in.  Now it was just Jamie, Quinn, and Trevor. Once the front door was shut Quinn forcefully turned Trevor around. He still looked shocked and a few tears had begun to run down his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Quinn finally spoke up. Trevor opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

"If you weren't my best friend I would beat the shit out of you," Jamie said through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

"She," Quinn pointed towards the door you had just walked out of, "is like a little sister to me and you just broke her heart in front of an entire party of random strangers." Quinn's voice was calm, too calm, it was frightening. "And you're not my best friend so I will gladly beat the shit out of you." He stepped forward but Jamie stopped him as Trevor finally spoke.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered. 

"What do you mean?! You went into this whole thing knowing you had feelings for her."

"What thing?" Quinn interrupted. 

"Do you wanna tell him?" Jamie crossed his arm. Trevor said nothing. "Are you really going to make me tell him?"

"We've been sleeping together," Trevor said softly. Quinn exhaled.

"How long?" He asked.

"Since my birthday," he paused, scared of how Quinn would react after he said his next words, "last year." Quinn saw red. Yes, you were old enough to make your own decisions, but he hated that this decision ended with you in tears and running out the door.

"You've been stringing her along for over a year?!" Quinn's voice got louder with each word. 

"No, I swear! I didn't think she felt the same way I did, and if-" Trevor's voice broke.

"Come on, Trevor," Jamie sighed. "You're dumb, but you're not that dumb. Everyone can see that she loves you and you love her."

It was quiet for a moment.

"You better fix this," Quinn spoke one last time as he headed for the door, he didn't trust himself to not punch Trevor if he stayed any longer. 

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to you, don't let her get away." Jamie walked away.

(you)

The first week after that night everyone gave you your space. Texts were your only form of communication, you didn't trust yourself to talk, you knew your voice would be coarse from all the crying. 

Trevor would call and text you everyday and every time he did you ignored him. Eventually you muted his notifications, you knew you should've blocked him but you weren't ready for that. 

────

The second week after that night you no longer had space. At least one of your friends were with you at your apartments at all times. These days were filled with binge watching cringy reality shows and lots of take out. You started to smile and laugh again. 

────

The third week after is when you finally left your apartment. 

On Monday, Quinn took you to the beach, complaining about how he was getting sand in places he didn't know sand could get into. You laughed as he got hit on, multiple times. He just awkwardly said 'thank you,' every time he was complimented. Once the, one sided, flirting stopped Quinn soon became your greatest enemy. When you got up to stretch your legs he took that as an opportunity to grab you and throw you into the water. Once you came out of the water you saw Quinn dying of laughter. When he saw the look on your face he ran for his life.

On Tuesday, Luke dragged you to an arcade. You beat him at air hockey and might have gotten a little too excited based on the looks you got from all of the parents with their little kids. He accused you of cheating saying 'You rigged this somehow. I should've won, I literally play hockey for a living!’ You just laughed and called him a sore loser followed by a laugh and, ‘Maybe it’s time you retire and I take your place. I do look pretty good in red.’ He just scoffed and walked off to the next game.

On Wednesday, Jack made you go to an amusement park. He said that the two of you had to go on every single ride. The day started good but soon Jack's face started to go pale. You said you two should probably leave but he refused. He said he was fine and that it was time for the big rollercoaster. As soon as you got off the ride Jack ran to the nearest trash can and threw up. You whispered a quick 'I told you so,' and Jack just gave you the middle finger.

On Thursday, Nico forced you to go on a hike with him, you hated this. He didn’t tell you how long the hike was going to be and you wanted to punch him. The hike was filled with you cursing at him, while he just laughed. It was worth it once you saw the view at the top. The smug look on Nico's face however, was not worth it. You jokingly said you would push him off the cliff if he didn't wipe that look off his face.

On Friday, Jamie just simply walked around town with you as you shopped, not complaining once, that night he took you to a drive-in movie theater that was playing your favorite movie. This might have been your favorite activity of the week. Just you and one of your closest friends laughing being a little too loud and getting told to shut up by the cars next to you, almost getting kicked out. 

You thought you would get to have a quiet night alone on Saturday but that thought went out the window when you heard a knock on your door. You opened the door and saw all of them standing there, a couple holding snacks and a few holding blankets and pillows.

"What is all of this?" You laughed.

"We’re staying over," Jack said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he then pushed past you letting himself in.

"Yeah, no, of course you can totally come in," you joked sarcastically.

"We know," Nico said, you playfully slapped his back as he walked by.

You watched as the blankets were dropped on the living room floor and the snacks were placed on the coffee table. 

"I don't have a say in this, do I?" You crossed your arms 

"Nope!" They all said in unison. You rolled your eyes playfully before joining them. 

(him)

The last three weeks had been absolute hell for Trevor. During those three weeks he barely saw Jamie or anyone else, he knew he deserved that thought. The silence and alone time gave him a lot of time to think. When he wasn't in bed, he was out driving. He never had a destination in mind, he just wanted to clear his head but, as if the universe was playing some sick joke on him, he always ended up at your apartment building.

That Sunday morning was no exception. He sat there for what felt like eternity before he noticed people exiting the building. He focused to see who it was and he felt his heart start racing once he did. It was Jamie, Quinn, Jack, Luke, and Nico. Quickly he ducked, thankful that the parking spot he was in was somewhat covered by a tree. After a few minutes he finally looked to see if the coast was clear. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

This was his moment. He could go up to you and finally explain everything, finally see you again, even if it was for the last time. He took a few deep breaths before opening the car door. Slowly, he walked towards the side entrance of the building. Once he got there he stopped and remembered, he had given your spare key to Jamie, he couldn't get into the building. He looked over at the intercom system and saw the button with your name. He obviously couldn't press it. You would turn him away immediately. He looked at the only other name that he knew.

Miss Bea. The old lady who lived across the hall from you. The lady who you would spend most of your free time with and the lady who always came over to your apartment on Sunday nights for dinner and card games. You both quickly became an important part in each other's lives. You were close, Miss Bea was like your grandmother and you were like her granddaughter. He knew that you had definitely told Miss Bea what had happened and he also knew that Miss Bea was terrifying when she was mad. With a shaky hand he pressed the button next to Miss Bea's name. He waited for a second before he heard her voice.

"Who is this? What do you want?" She asked quickly. Trevor froze and couldn't speak. "If this is some kind of prank or whatever you kids do these days you better get to running before I get down there." He knew that wasn't an empty threat.

"Hi-," his voice wavered for a second. "Hi, Miss Bea. It's-um-it's Trevor." He braced himself. 

"You have some nerve coming here!" She was almost yelling.

"I know, ma'am, I know." He stopped and ran his hand through his hair, he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. It was silent for awhile. Trevor began to think she had walked away.

"Are you here to apologize?" She said curtly.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"Speak up I can't hear you. I said, are you here to apologize?" 

"Yes, ma'am," he said once again, this time loud and clear. It went quiet again. He thought that maybe she had just walked away as he just stood there for awhile. Soon the door in front of him opened and there stood the short but mighty, and scary, little old lady.

"You make her cry angain and I will end you." She pointed at him. "I know people. One call and they'll be here in a second." 

Trevor gulped and quickly nodded his head in fear. He had no doubt that she did in fact 'know people,' and he did not want to meet them. She let him walk in front of her and he waited to help her up the stairs with an arm held out.

"Don't get all gentlemen like now." She waved her hand shooing him away. He nodded his head before turning and making his way to your apartment.

Before he knew it he was standing at the door. With a shaky hand he knocked before he lost the courage. Time felt like it had slowed down. Soon the door swung open.

"Guys, I told you-"

(you)

Your stomach dropped instantly. There he was standing right in front of you. Quickly you tried to slam the door but he stopped it with his foot. 

"Wait!" You opened the door once again. 

"How the hell did you get in here?" You wanted to yell but you didn't. Before he could respond you saw Miss Bea walking to her front door with a little smirk on her face. "Miss Bea?!" You said in disbelief.

"Are we still on for dinner tonight, dear?" She asked in the most nonchalant voice you had ever heard. Your jaw dropped. "Honey, we talked about this, close your mouth or you're going to catch flies." She joked as she closed her door, leaving you alone with Trevor. You quickly closed your mouth before looking at the boy who had caused you so much pain.

"Can we please talk?" He whispered.

"I don't want to talk to you." You started to shut the door again.

"Then can you please listen? Just listen to what I have to say and if by the time I'm done you still want me to leave I will leave and I will never bother you again." You let out a sigh and opened the door, slowly.

"You have 5 minutes," you knew that was far too generous but, sadly, you desperately wanted to hear what he had to say. You stepped aside and let him in. You watched as he looked around your apartment like he had never been there before. All of the pictures of the two of you and the small little trinkets the two of you had collected over the years were tucked away in the back of your closet. There was no trace of him anymore. "You're wasting time. You’re 5 minutes started when I closed the door." You said as you crossed your arms. Finally, he turned to you, and for the first time you got a proper look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, and his face wasn't as bright as it used to be.

"Do you remember that field trip we took back in second grade, to the aquarium?" He asked. You nodded your head, extremely confused as to why that is what he started with. He looked down at his hands. "You were terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, so I held your hand and promised that I would protect you." He chuckled but his voice was still shaking.

It took everything in you not to smile at the fond memory.

"That was the first time I felt it. Obviously I didn't know what ‘it’ was at the time. But when my mom picked me up from school that day I told her she had to take me to the hospital immediately. She asked what was wrong and tried to see if i had any injuries. I told her you gave me cooties. She just laughed and I remember I got so upset because I thought I was dying and my mom was just laughing at me. She finally asked me why I thought you had given me cooties. I told her that my tummy felt all warm and fuzzy after I let go your hand and it happened again every time you laughed or smile or looked at me. She laughed again and told me it wasn't cooties and that I would understand when I was older." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, you turned around and grabbed a tissue box.

"Here," you whispered softly as you offered it to him. 

"Thank you.” He wiped his nose before continuing. "Then in seventh grade there was that cheesy little winter formal and that little dickhead Tyler asked you to dance. Except it wasn’t even a real slow dance you both just stood there awkwardly with your hands on each other’s shoulders, stepping side to side.” You let out a quick and short laugh. Trevor laughed too. "I was so mad that he asked you before I did and that's when I started to realize that maybe I wanted more than just a friendship with you. You two started dating and at first I thought it wasn't gonna last because, c'mon we were in middle school, middle school relationships never last. But somehow you did and you lasted all the up to the end of sophomore year, which surprised everyone, especially me. You two finally broke up because you caught him cheating-"

"Okay, okay, you don't need to bring that part up," you muttered.

"And then somehow Tyler ended up with a broken nose..." he trailed off.

"And you somehow ended up with bruised knuckles,” you chuckled. A lightness began to fill the air.

"Hey, don't look at me, Tyler never said who did it." He raised his hands up in surrender. You could see Trevor's face start to light up again. “The end of senior year came and prom was coming up. You went on and on about how there was no chance in hell you were going. You turned down a dozen promposals. I was able to convince you to go with me because I promised I would stay by your side the entire time. I still had to drag you out of the house though. That's the night we had our first kiss, it was during a slow dance, a real slow dance, and we laughed because it was a complete cliché. We never talked about that kiss afterwards, we both acted like it never happened, and I hated that. It terrified me but that's when I knew 100%," he paused as he took a small step forward, and you let him. "That's the night I realized I was completely in love with you. I have been in love with you since before I even knew what love was. I still am and I will always be in love with you."

You didn't know when they started but you finally felt tears stream down your face. You stood there in shock. He felt the same way you did. He was in love with you. He has been his entire life. 

"I never acted on those feelings because I thought you didn’t feel the same and that you never would. I’m a complete mess and all over the place and you’re…” he paused. “You’re, you. Then my birthday happened and everything got so complicated. I should have told you that very first night but I couldn’t, I couldn’t ruin our friendship more than it probably already was. I need you in my life so I took you in whatever way that would keep you by my side. Which was fucked up and completely selfish," he whispered.

"But what about that night? You didn't seem to be in love with me then," your voice broke a little at the end.

"I thought you were mad at me. You were short on the phone with me and then your phone went straight to voicemail every time I tried to call and you didn't read any of my texts.”

“So your first thought was to hook up with some random girl?” You cut him off.

“No! I don’t know!” He stuttered loudly, regretting his choice of words when he saw your eyes filled with hurt. “Fuck! No! You make my mind get all jumbled up and I can’t think straight when I’m around you or even when I just think about you. I jumped to conclusions and I thought that everything was over, our friendship and our…whatever we became, and just the thought of that sent me into a self destructive spiral, I wanted to get you out of my head and I failed and I hurt you while doing so. I should’ve told you how I felt that night at prom. I should’ve tried harder, I know that now, and I should've fought for you. I should've ran after you that night.”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you whispered. Slowly but surely you could feel your heart getting put back together again with every word he said. You could feel your love grow the more he talked.

“I have been beating myself up everyday for the past three weeks because all I did was stand there and let you walk away. You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would give everything up if it meant you'd forgive me and that I could spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. I'd even give up hockey if you asked me to, I really hope you don't because I'm really not good at anything else." He was rambling, saying whatever thought came into his head. He went to continue speaking but you just laughed and closed the space between the both of you.

You grabbed his shirt and kissed him. You kissed him with everything you had. He stood there shocked for a second before he finally relaxed into the kiss, cupping your face with both of his hands. This kiss was unlike any of the kisses before. There was no rush, no roughness, there was just love. You could feel the love radiating off of both of you and you never wanted it to end. Sadly it had to. You had to breathe. 

"What was that for? I mean not that I didn't enjoy it, I really enjoyed it. I just mean does-" you interrupted him with another kiss.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" You asked as you pulled away. You wiped the few tears still left on his face and he did the same for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his wrapped around your waist.

"I've been told that once or twice," he joked, all you did was laugh before bringing him in for a soft peck. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed and face full of love and happiness. The two of you just stood there in silence for a moment, taking in and processing everything that just happened.

"Hey Trev," you waited for some kind of response. Which came in the form of a questioning hum. "You got the story wrong." You pulled away, and walked over to your couch, Trevor right behind you. You both sat down

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"The aquarium," you looked at him with a smirk. "You were the one who was terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, not me." He looked at you like you were crazy.

"No I wasn't, it was you!" He argued. He leaned back against the couch and pulled you with him.

“Maybe you’ve fallen on the ice one too many times because I’m right,” you laughed, your laughter causing Trevor to laugh. You curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around you.

Once your laughter died down Trevor spoke up again.

“I’m so happy you forgave me because I did not want to fall victim to Miss Bea’s ‘people,’ that really would’ve sucked.” He shuddered at the thought.

You looked up at him and the scared look on his face caused you to smile bigger than you ever had before. He looked down at you and playfully scoffed at your smiling face before leaning down to softly kiss you again.

This is what you both wanted for the rest of your lives. Laughing until your ribs hurt, kissing like it was the last time, and all the good times and bad times in between.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and you still had a lot to talk about, but you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was never going to let you go again, he was never going to let you walk out that door, and you were never going to let him do the same.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Hitchhiker Phantom x Driver Dew anyone ?

Phantom has a new sworn enemy, and it's the sun. Sweating bullets, his filmsy tank top sticking to him in the most uncomfotable way, curls damp and frizzy, he's starting to wish for a storm, an eclipse, or just a cloud, anything to make the weather slightly more bearable.

The fact that he's sitting cross-legged on the side of the road, the burning asphalt radiating heat too, isn't helping. But he's been all but thrown out of his last ride after accidentally spilling his drink - he didn't mean to, the road was just so bumpy ! - and now, stranded in the middle of nowhere, all he can do is wait and pray for another car to drive by and accept to give him a lift into the nearest town.

Phantom has been hitchhiking for long enough that he knows people willing to do so are rarer these days. They are wary, not like Phantom can blame them - he himself had a few bad, or even downright scary experiences.

Lost in his thoughts, he nearly misses the rumbling sound of an engine down the road, but the second it registers, Phantom is on his feet, bag slung back on his shoulder, thumb out. An old pick up is making its way toward him, and it might be his last chance of the day.

Phantom runs a hand through his hair, fluffing it the best he can, sheepish smile plastered on his face. A bit of charm never hurts in those situations.

To Phantom's immense relief, the pick up slows down to a stop right in front of him, and a guy leans toward the open passenger window from the driver seat.

"Where you going, boy ?"

The man is...Phantom has to take a deep breath. Long hair held up in a loose bun, knife sharp jaw, sculpted cheekbones, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of a nose that's evidently been broken more than once, and piercing mismatched eyes, one icy blue, the other light brown.

Hot. Pretty, in a way that clearly reads "I could and might gut you if you look at me the wrong way".

Remembering he was asked a question, Phantom mentally shakes himself, his smile growing just a touch coy.

"As far as you're willing to take me."

The man raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth ticking up slightly. His long, spidery fingers drum against the wheel, drawing Phantom's eyes to the defined veins and tendons in the man's callused hands.

"That's a dangerous answer," the man finally points out, the shadow of a smirk still floating on his mouth. Phantom shrugs, noting the stranger's eyes roaming, assessing, interested, but not particularly lewd. Yet, at least. There's a moment of silence , then the man leans back in his seat.

"Well, come on then."

The come hither gesture that follows has Phantom's stomach flipping. There's something about this man, both nonchalant and observant, or the way he holds himself, with grace and something that toes the line between confidence and arrogance.

Hopping in on the passenger seat, Phantom finds a few CD's stewn about, energy bars wrappers and a discarted jacket. Once settled, car door slamming behind him, Phantom glances at the driver, who steers them back on the road.

"Next town is a few hours away still," the stranger says without looking at him, "I'll stop there, so I guess that's where I'll take you."

There's a sharp, biting touch of irony in his tone that makes Phantom's cheeks heat, in a good way. But the man is not looking at him, even though Phantom is, with enough insistance that he noticed the faint scar on his jaw, the edge of a tattoo peeking out of his short sleeve, or the smudges of oil on the man's trousers, and the lack of returned attention simply won't do.

"Sounds good to me," Phantom pipes up. "You got any water ? My bottle's been empty for hours."

"Behind your seat," is all he gets, at least until Phantom retrives the bottle. Just as he opens it, it's snatched from his hands.

Phantom watches, mouth even drier than before, as the man takes a long swing of it, head thrown back, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his skin as his throat works, proeminent adam apple bobbing up and down.

All the while, the stranger's eyes are on him.

Then he offers Phantom the bottle, holding it up between them with a smirk and quirk of eyebrows that look like a challenge.

Trying not to overthink it - he's going to put his mouth where the man's pretty lips were though, isn't he ? - Phantom takes it, letting their fingers overlap for a brief moment, then chugs a good deal of it down- he really was thirsty.

"You got a name to go with that pretty face ?"

Phantom chokes and splutters at that, so hard the stranger has to slap him in the back. Great. Now there's water on his jeans and Phantom feels fucking ridiculous - at least until he hears the driver's soft chuckle, amused but not unkind. Wiping his mouth, he sighs.

"Phantom."

Instead of a comment about weird nicknames, he gets an extended hand.

"Dewdrop, Dew for short."

Oh. Interesting.

Phantom slips his hand in Dewdrop's steady one, delighted to feel the rough texture of the man's palm scratching his own. There's an upside down cross Phantom hadn't noticed tattooed on his middle finger, and a small heart on his pinky.

Dewdrop holds on for a just a bit too long, or maybe that's Phantom. Their eyes meet.

A rough bump in the road breaks the moment, and they're back to their initial position, Phantom stealing glances from the passenger seat, Dewdrop focused on the road.

The sun is setting, bright and blinding, bathing everything in golden light. After a bit of fiddling and a vigorous punch on it that he insisted was necessary, Dew managed to make the old radio work, some trendy pop song coming through amongst a lot of static.

Everything is hot and sticky, but the wind ruffling Phantom's curls is finally cooling, a welcome reprieve from the suffocating heat.

They don't talk much, but now and then one of them will break the silence, and the other will immediately focus on him. It's a game of patience and burning stares that Phantom finds himself thoroughly enjoying.

He's not sure he's winning, however. Because so much time to look means he noticed even more details that are driving him crazy.

Like the way Dew's shirt is thin enough to hint at what cannot be anything other than nipple piercings. Or the faint dusting of light stubble on his jaw, the tan line where his sleeves stop, the way he keeps hooking his thumb in his beltloop, his tongue darting out to wet chapped lips.

Dew is more subtle about the staring, but not enough for Phantom to believe him uninterested. The highlight of their long drive is probably the time Dew has to precipitately hit the brakes to avoid running a deer over ; his hand instinctively slams into Phantom's chest, like he doesn't trust the seatbelt to do its job, and once he stops cursing out the poor, startled animal scampering away, Dew let his hand linger.

"You good there ?"

Phantom's breath catches in his throat, whole body and mind zeroing in on the sensation of Dew's thumb running back and forth over his sternum.

"...yeah. Yeah, all good."

The slight smirk on Dew's face says he noticed Phantom's breathlessness, but he's kind enough not to mention it.

It's pitch black when they reach town. Dew parks in front of a small house, but instead of getting out of the pick up, he leans toward Phantom, so close their noses are almost brushing.

"You got somewhere to go ?"

His eyes are just as piercing in the dark as they were earlier in the day, his mouth so close-

"Phantom."

Dew grabs him by the jaw, firm, and gives Phantom a small shake.

"Do you have somewhere to go ?"

Dew's touch feels like sparks under his skin, Phantom cannot help leaning into it, eyes glued to those tentalizing lips.

"I'll figure something out, 's fine."

"You can crash at my place."

Phantom looks up, eyebrows raised.

"Generous."

The grin that splits Dew's face then, mischievious and hungry, makes Phantom want to roll over and let him carve his heart out.

"Hardly. I'm full of ulterior motives."

Phantom clicks the seatbelt off, leaning further toward Dew - who, the little shit he is, leans away while still tugging him by the jaw, until Phantom is streched above the center console, one hand next to Dew's thigh, the other on the window by his head.

"What kind of ulterior motives ?"

"Exactly the kind you hope."

And with that, Phantom is all but dragged out of the car by the scruff of his neck, Dew bullying him inside the house with all the urgency of a man who stewed in sexual tension for hours.

Phantom has a feeling he'll remember this night for a long time.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary﹕upon turning 18, you begin your new life at grand line university, a college within red line. while you once had a boring, uneventful life, you now find yourself in the middle of several conflicts, and several romances. what's a struggling college student to do in times like these?

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.2k

┈ ✧.* chapter i﹕new beginnings

The obnoxious chatter of your fellow bus riders, combined with the unpredictable thumps when passing over the occasional pothole was enough to drive you mad.

There was a baby two seats behind you bawling its little eyes out, a businessman screaming into his phone, and two little old ladies gossiping about the affairs of their next-door neighbor— but you didn’t mind their conversation too much. 

You would be wearing your headphones in order to escape the hell you were placed in, but on your way to the bus stop you snapped the audio jack while struggling to jam it into your cheap MP3 player. As a result, you were damned to listen to the screeching around you. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief, seeing as nobody had dared to sit next to you on this—

“Hey! Is that seat taken?”

You jumped in your seat at the sudden intrusion, eyes darting to your left to see the sudden encroacher. And, much to your shock, it wasn’t a 40 year-old man trying to snuggle up close to a college girl, but his voice already ruled out that possibility. Instead, it was a young boy, probably around your age. He looked a little out of place in his summer attire, but school had only just started, so it was no surprise that some people weren’t ready to let it go quite yet.

“Uh, no,” you finally spoke up, silently pulling your bag closer to the wall of the bus.

With a grin the boy threw his incredibly robust bag next to your own, taking the seat next to you. “My name’s Luffy!” he said joyously, sticking out a hand for you to shake.

You gingerly extended your own, watching helplessly as Luffy snatched it, wildly shaking it up and down. ‘My first new friend,’ you thought sarcastically. ‘It could certainly be worse.’

“I’m ____,” you said slowly, contemplating the consequences of telling this stranger your name. He did look like a student, at the very least. This line of reasoning failed to put a light on your current situation, but with enough deep breaths you could ignore it.

“You’re a student, then?” you asked, gesturing to his incredibly full bag.

Luffy excitedly nodded. “I’m a freshman! See, I got everything I need for today!” 

Inside Luffy’s bag weren't pillows, blankets or even clothes. Instead it was chock full of various foods, mostly greasy meats. You were slightly impressed at how the smell remained hidden inside the shoddy hand-me-down bag.

“Ya like it?” Luffy ruffled through the bag, pulling out a large seared steak. “My neighbor Hancock made it all for me! Said I needed to be well-fed while I was here!” 

All you could do was nod along as Luffy continued to speak. You originally assumed that he was some kind of farm boy, based on his current attire, ready for his first day in the big city. His strange quirks and interesting home life began to intrigue you, creating a need for answers.

“Grand Line University?” you interrupted, paying more attention.

Luffy looked at you cluelessly for a second before vigorously nodding his head, that grin still stapled onto his face.

“Yep! That’s where my two brothers go! We all promised we’d go to the same college when we grew up!” he explained.

“Brothers?” you gently pushed further, hoping to learn more.

“Ace and Sabo!” he shouted, excitement barely contained, “Sabo is studying scoliology and Ace is a super awesome hockey player!”

“Scoliology…?”

“Yeah, sockiology!” Luffy assured, his grin unfaltering.

“And what does Ace study?” you pried.

“Um…” Luffy went quiet for a few seconds, scratching his head to emphasize his uncertainty. “I dunno! I think he’s just taking a bunch of different classes. That’s what I’m gonna do!”

“You’re undecided, then?”

“Hm, well I kinda know what I wanna do. I wanna be like my big brothers, but I also wanna do fun stuff! Like eating!”

“So you wanna be, like, a chef?”

“Nope!”

All you could do was stare at Luffy, dumbfounded by his confidence.

“Are you a student too?” Luffy bounced excitedly on the bus seat.

‘Well, he catches on quick.’ You rolled your eyes internally. “Yeah, I’m a freshman too. Psychology major.”

“Oh, oh! Like a brain doctor!” Luffy pointed at you, enthusiastic at his confidentially incorrect assumption.

“Uh, yea, close enough,” you sighed.

A second of silence passed between you before Luffy began speaking again.

“Do you wanna be friends?” he asked.

Such a bizarre question forced you to pause, staring at Luffy blankly. Did you want to be friends? You’d known him for less than ten minutes, but he’d grown on you in that time. You knew little about him, but he also knew little about you, and isn’t that how all friendships start?

His talkative presence had provided levity to your headphone-less journey. Admittedly, you had grown to slowly appreciate his presence, letting him talk your ear off and drown out the noise of the other passengers. It wasn’t how you dreamed your college life would start out, but you could make this work. Yeah, this wasn’t bad, and it could certainly be worse! You could make this work. You could make this work.

“Sure, Luffy,” you smiled, “I’d like that.”

Fifteen minutes later and you and Luffy disembarked from the bus, walking side-by-side up to the school. It was far from a quiet walk, Luffy currently yapping about the different kinds of meat he was carrying in his bag.

“So, what dorm are you in?” you questioned, swinging your bag around carelessly.

“Uh…” Luffy searched his pockets, looking around for the paper given to him. “Poseidon!”

“Damn, I’m in Pluton,” you groaned, disappointed at the loss of your new friend.

“That’s ok! We can still see each other at the cafeteria! Or in the halls! Or outside!”

A smile found its way onto your face, the corners of your mouth upturning ever so slightly. Despite your attempts to keep your distance from Luffy, his constant jabbering and peppy attitude had grown on you.

“I’d like that,” you smiled, tucking your hands in your pockets. “I’ll see you around, Luffy.”

The two of you parted ways, separating to your respective dorms. Most of Grand Line’s buildings fell between vintage and just straight decay, brick walls and vine growths contrasted with the cracked interior walls and gross carpet. But you knew what you signed up for when you applied to this damn place.

A couple minutes of walking later and you found yourself standing in front of Pluton, towering brick walls casting a looming shadow cast over you. You shuffled through your bag to grab your ID, swiping it through the card reader and hearing the click of the door unlocking. 

Swinging it open, you marched through the ancient hallways, taking in the ‘wonderful’ sights that Pluton had in store for you. You’d exchanged a couple of emails with your roommates, and what you’d gathered from their personalities made you want to shout for joy and scream in agony.

 The first to contact you, Nami, was undoubtedly a spoiled brat. She informed you that she would be bringing a fridge and trash, something you had greatly appreciated at the time. But the next sentence revealed that she would be charging you for their use, which caused you to chuck your phone across the room. Needless to say, you weren’t looking forward to meeting her.

Vivi, on the other hand, seemed like an absolute delight. She explained that she was a foreign exchange student looking for a new outlook on life, hoping to meet some new friends at Grand Line. It surprised you that she hadn’t applied for the Mary Geoiose Institute, considering her immense status in her home country, but if it was a new outlook she was searching for, she’d most definitely find it here.

Furthermore, on account of throwing your phone, you were unable to search up any kind of pictures of the two, much less send any other communications. You lacked the funds to purchase a new phone and thus were forced to submit it for repairs, informed that it would be finished in around two weeks, which unfortunately lined up exactly with move-in day. It would seem your life was fraught with inconvenient coincidences, especially considering your two roommates.

A greedy business major like Nami and a selfless political science major like Vivi sounded like a recipe for disaster, and you weren’t looking forward to playing psychologist for the two of them. You crossed hallways and climbed up stairs, arriving at your floor and scanning the doors for your room number.

Judging by the open doors and giddy voices around you, it would seem like you were the last one to move in. The only thing you could do was pray your roommates were still late to the party, if only to avoid the drama that would most certainly result if they were to collide.

At the end of the hallway was your dorm and standing uniformly amongst the rest, waiting to be decorated by its inhabitants. You stepped towards the door, laying your hand on the doorknob and slowly twisted, anticipating the worst behind the door—

“Oh my god, you actually have those heels? They were only sold for a single day, how in the world did you get them!”

“Well, my dad bought them as a birthday present for my sixteenth birthday…”

“Your dad bought them? What’s he like? How old is he? How much does he have in his bank account?”

You stood frozen before your roommates, watching them talk as if they were old friends meeting up after a long time. But that was hardly your greatest concern at the moment. Your roommates were drop dead gorgeous. Long, effortlessly wavy hair; clear, glowing skin; and their absolutely rockin’ bodies. It made you question whether or not you had the correct room.

“Nami and Vivi?” you interrupted, sheepishly moving your hands behind your back.

Instantly the two turned to look at you, momentary confusion clouding their face only to be washed over with smiles.

“You must be ____, right?” the blue-haired girl spoke, rising to her feet, “I’m Vivi, it’s a great pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Nami!” the ginger waved, flashing you a wide grin, “don’t forget about the fridge policy! You can put the money in that jar.” She pointed to a very decorated glass mason jar, complete with a small sign labeled ‘FRIDGE FUNDS :)’ beneath it.

You damned yourself for forgetting Nami’s inclivities. ‘How could I forget?’ you internally cringed.

“Right…” You warily scratched the back of your head. “So, which bed’s mine?”

“You can have the single!” Vivi keenly blurted, “unless you’d rather the bunk! Nami called dibs on the top bunk, and I’ve never experienced a bunk-bed before, so I was hoping I could have the bottom. But if you, would like it, it is no problem—”

“Single’s fine!” you whistled cheerily, cutting her off before she could change her mind.

“Perfect!” Vivi clapped her hands together. “Nami offered to go out to eat today, and I was wondering if you would like to join us? It would be a great way to learn about each other!”

You shrugged, “Sure, but I’m kind of broke right now, so if one of you could pay for me I can pay you back in a week.”

“No need to worry!” Vivi reassured, “I will pay for you two, consider it a gift to honor our new friendship!”

“Thanks, Vivi…” you sighed in relief, tossing your bag up onto your mattress.

“Well, I say we get going!” Nami interjected, hopping off the couch below your bed, “we can look around and decide what sounds good.”

The three of you filed out of the dormitory, crossing the campus in order to reach downtown. It felt strange seeing your fellow students around the campus, some entering buildings and others lazing around on the grass. You failed to recognize even the most colorful characters loitering about, and judging by some of their rather explicative attitudes, you wanted to keep it that way.

“We could get Japanese, Italian, Indian,” Nami listed, leading the charge down the street.

“I wouldn’t mind Italian,” you muttered, not wanting to be the deciding factor.

“How about you, Vivi? Does Italian sound good?” Nami turned to face her roommate.

“Of course, I am fine with—”

“____!” a voice called out.

The three of you turned to the sudden outcry of your name. You hardly knew anyone on account of being a shut-in orphan for most of your life, despite living in Red Line for so long. But you did recognize the voice that shouted your name.

Across the street stood Luffy, flanked by three odd men. He waved at you madly, sprinting across the street with no regard, much to the horror of his companions, who chased after him, much to the dismay of traffic.

“Friends of yours?” Nami asked, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity covering her face.

“Just the black-haired one,” you whispered back.

Luffy dashed onto the sidewalk, followed by his terrified partners, and ran straight up to you.

“____, these are my roommates!” Luffy stretched his arms around their shoulders, pulling them in close. “This is—”

“Sanji!” the blond interjected, pushing in front of his roommate, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, mes chéries.”

Viv blushed at the pet name, but you could see the dollar signs bulging out of Nami’s eyes. You weren’t one to swoon head-over-heels over a little French, so you tucked your hands in your pockets and waited for the next introduction.

“I’m Usopp!” the curly-haired man cheered, giving two thumbs up and not-so-subtly ushering his green-haired companion to speak.

“Zoro,” the moss-head gruffed, shuffling his feet boredly.

“Aren’t they great?” Luffy shouted, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Yeah, glad someone else gets the pleasure of knowing you, Luffy,” you joked.

Zoro snorted at your comment, a smirk appearing on his face for half a second.

“Well, if you three aren’t doing anything, wanna join us? We were just going to eat and hang out,” Nami offered.

“Okay!” Luffy agreed immediately, “I’m suuuuper hungry, so let’s go eat somewhere with lots of food!”

“Everywhere has lots of food, Luf,” Zoro yawned, scratching his head.

“We were planning on Italian food, that sound good to you?” Nami placed a hand on her hip.

Before Luffy could make any further statements, Usopp clasped a hand over his mouth. “Italian sounds fantastic!” he assured us.

“My dad owns a place,” Sanji remarked, “he probably won’t let us eat for free, but I could probably get a discount.”

Nami grinned, clapping her hands excitedly at the thought of saving money.

“Perfect, lead the way, Prince Charming!” Nami cheered, twirling her finger in the air, leading your newly formed crew behind Sanji.

“Your brother is Ace? Like, Portgas D. Ace? Like, famous hockey player for the Grand Line, that Ace?” Nami exclaimed, jaw dropping open in shock.

“Yeah! Do you know him?” Luffy replied, shoveling down his seventh slice of pizza.

“Know him?” Sanji hissed, “what part of ‘famous hockey player for the Grand Line’ do you not understand?”

“He is quite famous…” Vivi whispered.

While Nami and Sanji continued to prod Luffy for more answers, you and Zoro quietly ate your food. Well, you’d consider what you were eating as food, a plate of carbonara and a side of asparagus, but Zoro was eating a singular piece of bread with a bottle of red wine. ‘To each their own,’ you shrugged.

“So…” you started, turning to Zoro, “what’s your major?”

Zoro stared down at you intimidatingly, unflinching at your question. Maybe it was his bulky frame or fiery green hair, but something about him sent shivers down your spine. Did your question offend him somehow? How the hell could he take a question like that in a bad way? 

“Exercise science,” he answered, taking a swig from his bottle, “I wanna be a personal trainer.”

‘Huh, guess he’s not that scary…’ you thought to yourself.

“Are you planning on being a coach or something? Or do you have different plans?” you continued, praying the conversation wouldn’t fall flat.

“...I’d like to open my own dojo, but I’m not opposed to doing one-on-one training for the beginning of my career,” he mumbled.

“People always say to dream big. I hope it all goes well for you.”

Any malicious energy that Zoro had previously held seemed to dissipate with your response. You weren’t a psychic by any means, but as you looked into Zoro’s sharp eyes, you could make out a little softness within them.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he sighed, taking another sip of wine.

Your conversation reached its course as you both went back to eating. Nami was currently trying to get Ace’s number out of Luffy, not for any romantic reason from what you could tell, however. Those dollar signs were back in her eyes, glimmering with greed as she pestered Luffy.

“I think it starts with a three. Or maybe it was an eight?” Luffy asked himself, confusion clouding his expression.

“Who cares?” Sanji groaned, “he’s just a womanizing pretty boy!”

“Pot calling kettle black!” Usopp pointed out, sticking his fork at Sanji for emphasis.

“Yeah, butt out, Sanji! Mama’s gotta get herself a sugar daddy!” Nami hissed.

“You can find plenty at the Mary Geoiose Institute, Nami,” you teased, “unless you wanted a military man, in which case Marineford is probably taking applications.”

Nami faux gasped, a hand pressed to her chest in shock. “I prefer my lovers to be more down to earth! Money isn’t everything, you know? Besides, I’d never date someone so uptight, either.”

All of you laughed at her over dramatic act, even Zoro, who gave a soft chuckle. In less than an hour all of you were cracking jokes and carrying on a conversation, nobody left out and nobody reigning over the others.

Your life had been uneventful, plagued by boredom without a dream to call your own. You hadn’t needed anyone before, so you weren’t expecting to need anyone now. But being here with your new…friends? It felt like that missing piece of your life had finally clicked. Maybe you didn’t have a dream quite yet, but you certainly had a wish: that this moment would last forever.

“Pardon me!” Vivi announced, gently ringing her wine glass. She stood up, smiling at everyone.

“I would like to make a toast,” she smiled, “to our little crew!”

“Doesn’t a crew need a name~?” Nami drunkenly jeered.

Vivi pondered for a moment. “I suppose it does! Any suggestions, my friends?”

“The Ero-Cooks,” Zoro offered, taking another swig.

“Oh, very clever! How about the Marimos? Huh?” Sanji growled, shaking his fist in anger.

Nami, Luffy, and Usopp attempted to give more suggestions through Zoro and Sanji’s argument, though Nami was a little too drunk to be offering any kind of advice. But while everyone was speaking, an idea struck you.

“The Straw Hats,” you said, pointing at Luffy’s hat. “Technically speaking, Luffy’s the reason we’re here right now. Makes sense to name us after him.”

“The Straw Hats…” Vivi murmured to herself, “a perfect name!”

Vivi raised her glass.

“To the Straw Hats!”

Seven glasses rose in unison, meeting in the middle of the table to clink together.

“To the Straw Hats!”

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ a/n﹕hello, and thank you for reading this work! i highly recommend reading 'Ace of Spades' by Mihawkuri, as it inspired me to write my own college au! i hope you all enjoy reading, and while updates may be spaced out, i promise i will not abandon this story! i plan on going all the way to senior year if possible!! once again, thank you for reading! here is the ao3 link!

[elf-kid2]

Modern Witchers

So this contractor drives into this tiny town, way out in the sticks, in the kind of beat-up white van used by many tradesman, and allegedly favored by murderous kidnappers.

He's got white hair that you're not sure is bleached or not, strange eyes short manners. Maybe (probably) he kinda gives you the creeps. White van, stranger-danger, big guy with muscles, and all. Bad vibes.

But you've got a problem, no denying: there's SOMETHING in those woods that doesn't belong there, and recently, when the local boys went to DO something about it... that SOMETHING went from killing livestock, to killing people to. And you know, once those types of creatures get a taste for human blood... best to deal with it sooner, rather than later. Hence, the out-of-town contractor.

Witchers specialize in hunting monsters, after all.

Better to put together a fundraiser to pay the (frankly, outrageous) fees now, then to have to pay all that later, plus the surcharge for beasts that've killed multiple people, plus pulling together the funds for more funerals.

A stitch in time save nine, as the saying goes.

He's got a musician hitchhiking with him, which you weren't expecting. Some hapless hitchhiker with a dufflebag over his shoulder, and a guitar on his back, who got lost on the way to Vegas, or Nashville, or wherever it is starry-eyed musicians go to Make It Big, these days.

Auntie said that any hitchhiker with sense'd be better off walking down a lonely road, instead of getting into a van like that, driven by a man like that. But I guess it takes all kinds of kinds, and that musician hadn't been murdered yet, so make of that what you will.

Anyhow, the musician started busking in the farmer's market-- some decent covers, a few original songs, and some kind of surprisingly catchy jingle for the contractor who'd given him a lift into town. It was pretty good; live music is always a treat when you can get it, and it'd been a while since the last Bluegrass Festival.

He knew how to charm people, work the crowd, how to ask for "donations to the fine arts" without being irritating about it. People dropped cash, and pennies, and quarters, into his open guitar case, at any rate.

I reckon he scraped together at least enough for lunch, form himself'n his friend. Witchers are surly and stingy as anything, y'know, so I wondered why he wasn't covering the meal, with how much he'd charged for slaying the monster...

...But I overheard mention of how he'd had to get that van fixed up at Joe's Auto-Mechanics, over by the old factory in the valley-- and everyone knows that Joe's Auto'll charge three times what the repairs are worth, with parts that cost ten times as much as they oughtta. Lord knows, those scammers'd be out of business, if there were any better options within 50 miles of their shop!

And that is why if you think your truck's getting ready to break down, you should try an' make sure it breaks down closer to home. And also why I figure it makes sense that even a Witcher'd be short on cash, after dealing with 'em.

Anyway, the Witcher spoke with the Sheriff, and he went out monster-hunting that night.

Meanwhile, that hitchhiking musician was playing at the local bar, and let me tell you-- he was pretty damn good! Played a few drinking-songs, and the kind of songs you can't play in front of the kiddos at Farmer's Market, played some catchy tunes that had people dancing and clapping along...!

I particularly enjoyed the murder-ballad about the woman who turned into a vengeful fire-monster when she found out her man was messing around with other women. Very clever wordplay, "flames of desire lighting up your funeral pyre!" Good stuff.

Then the Witcher came in-- fresh from the contract, and half-covered in mud and blood! Barkeep wouldn't even let him sit down until he'd hosed off the worst of it, out back!

Musician-- Jaskier, he called himself-- raised a toast to a successful hunt, and another to monster-hunters who let loving families sleep safely, and rowdy drunks stumble home un-eaten, and soon enough somebody was buying that Witcher a drink, and the barkeep gave him a plate of food on the house, and it was good times all around!

Beats toasting newly-dead friends, and drinking to forget the monsters at the door, any day.

The thing is, this is a small town. Not a lot of people come visit, and if they do, they're generally staying with family. Which is to say, there aren't any motels around here.

Now, that contractor, that Witcher, he'd asked around, beforehand, about what was available, in terms of overnight accomodations-- which, let's be honest, isn't much around here. Come morning, I saw that beat-up van parked outside the Rosebud Bed & Breakfast.

Now Rosebud's is a nice place, a respectable establishment, but we all know they've had some trouble since that big storm last month, when a tree smashed through the roof! Las I checked, that Bed & Breakfast only had the one bed fit for guests to sleep in!

Might've been a rather one-sided bidding war, or a tight fit, with two out-of-towners vying for a roof overhead, that night. But that's none of my business.

Jaskier the musician left town with the Witcher-- Geralt Rivera, I think the name was-- same as he came in. Well, makes sense that he wouldn't want to stay long enough to put down roots, a young musician on a mission to see the world and/or become rich and famous.

The Witcher, Geralt, did good work with the monster, too. I guess that's why they're the experts... Some folks are talking about having what's left of the beasty taxidermy'd, did you know? Might make a decent tourist attraction, or a decoration for Town Hall, or something. I don't know.

Anyway, all that's to say... don't let anybody tell you there's not still a need for Witchers, in the modern day.

[sixosix]

I DRIVE DOWN DIFFERENT ROADS | S. HEIZOU

“you look so pretty,” the stranger with twin moles murmurs, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”

or, you met a detective once on an unexpected night; fate decides that it won’t be the last time

tags cw drunk character, POV meet-cute and he makes a fool out of himself but u want him anw, drunk heizou, pre-relationship, bff!kazuha

a/n wc 1500, wow this is the longest i’ve written this month!

next part

inazuma wasn’t your first region of destination in mind when listing down vacation ideas. going on vacation wasn’t even on your to-do list—it has been that way for the past three years. 

“don’t be ashamed to ask. you know i would say yes,” yelan, your distant relative who is somewhat of a mentor to you, had told you herself when you briefly mentioned your plans.

yet as you trek through the dewy grass of chinju forest, you mourn all those years when you could’ve taken in inazuma’s sights much earlier when you needed it the most.

chinju forest is completely different from liyue harbor. it’s dim; the sun mysteriously never rises, and it’s filled with flowers—the same ones that glimmer so brightly that everything about the forest looks blue, overpowering the lanterns and candles spread throughout. and although it doesn’t feel like home, you wouldn’t mind spending a few months or so in here.

liyue harbor is always bright with splashes of color: bustling with merchants and tourists, with storytellers and friends you see on occasion. friends who wanted you to see the beauty of other places, too.

kazuha had let you in on his plan to return to inazuma for a bit to visit old friends—and since the traveler had worked the traveler magic on inazuma, too, it became safe enough for kazuha to invite you along with it.

it took some convincing and some restless nights of you imagining yelan saying no, but it turns out she is more than happy to send you off to another region, oceans away. says she could use one herself. and now here you are, freely exploring, taking in new, breathtaking sights, meeting new people, fawning over their food, realizing the world is much bigger than you thought.

and also stumbling into a drunk man tipping side-to-side as he weaves through the forest.

cautiously, you sneak behind a tree, watching the inebriated stranger walk like he’s about to twirl around, catch his own feet over his ankle, and fall face-first.

he looks young. if he were next to you in liyue they’d assume he’s exactly your age, with unruly hair and a short height. in the soft, blue glow of the forest’s fluorescent flowers, this stranger looks like the type of handsome you’ve read in books. soft, striking.

“who’s there?”

your eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. for someone barely able to walk a straight line, he’s able to sense your presence the moment your breath hitched; a concealed disturbance in the air.

should you leave?

unfortunately, the thought that kazuha would want you to guide this vulnerable man back to the city torments your conscience. even if you’re oceans away, protecting people and keeping them safe is still your duty.

with a sigh, you step out from the shadows, catching the way the man takes your figure in with squinted eyes. you respond with an inquisitive expression, and he stumbles nearer.

“there…there are— are they still chasing…?” he asks, and you first notice how he has a mole under each eye.

“chasing you? are you a criminal?”

“what….” he looks around, head spinning so fast even you got a little dizzy. “criminal? where?” he garbles, looking as if he’s a second away from throwing up.

“no, i’m asking you— ugh, never mind. who’re you?” you hold him up by the arm, feeling merciful. his weight suddenly doubles as he leans over you, leaving you no choice but to pin him against the tree to keep him from falling.

“the name— i’m,” he manages to say, his words sticking together stubbornly. “shikanoin…sharpest, most successful—”

“okay, okay,” you exhale loudly, not understanding a thing, “let’s just go back.”

“who are… you?” he asks, spitting the last word out, trying to mimic your tone. it fails miserably. his eyes widen as if he sees you for the first time. “oh, wow… you’re pretty. wow. where did you come from? why are you holding me up like this? are you weird?”

baffled by the onslaught of questions, you can only blink at him incredulously. “i’m not a weirdo! i’m trying to help you. you’re drunk out of your mind. and alone!” how did he even get here?

“you look so pretty,” he murmurs instead, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”

this is getting nowhere.

you pull away in favor of checking if the stranger has anything of use to you. all you can note is a sheathed jitte, a particularly revealing top, and an anemo vision. he wavers again with the loss of your support, resulting in you reflexively reaching out to hold onto the side of his torso. where it’s bare.

“you— you like what you see?” he slurs, and impressively strikes a million-dollar smile despite the droop of his eyes and flush on his face.

“not at all,” you lie. “let’s get back to the city.”

you are, to be frank, tired and ready to slack off for the rest of the day, finding kazuha be damned. staying too long in chinju forest messed with your sense of time; you were expecting sunrise by the time you returned to the city, yet it had only just set.

( not to mention, on the entire way back, the stranger kept talking your ear off, going on and on about how extraordinary and young he is—how pretty you are and how mystified he is. you can guess what his role is here in inazuma judging from his jitte, though you hardly care about how his superiors belittle him and how he laughs in their faces when he solves cases they rip their “receding” hair off dealing with. )

men dressed in various shades of purple saw you dragging him and rushed over to you, crowding over and filling up the small circle with more stench of alcohol. they were all varying levels of drunk, which explains a lot of what happened to the one you met. one of them apologized profusely, though you weren’t listening at all, gaze caught on the way they dragged your stranger away, verbally assaulted with berating left and right.

they were holding him by the arms, looking too much like an apprehended criminal. all that you could think back to was the way he was staring intently at you, too, as if he can’t take his eyes off.

“he’s not usually like this.” the man apologizing is still talking, you faintly realize, zoning back in—yet your eyes never strayed, even as your stranger is far enough to be out of earshot. “he got too competitive.”

“it’s fine,” you say, clipped. “did he win?”

he blinks. “did he— sorry, what?”

“did he win?”

“...yes.” the man’s brows furrow, looking confused.

you bow in respect, smiling politely when your head tilts back up. “i’ll take my leave now, thank you.”

two days later

kaedehara kazuha sits on a rock, watching the sun rise in silence that you quickly disrupt the moment you spot the mop of light hair. he turns his head curiously, having noticed you before you even spoke.

“kazuha!” you exclaim, picking up your pace. “kazuha, there you are. i couldn’t find you at all yesterday. you should’ve seen it—gorou showed me some good views of watatsumi island.”

“i apologize…” he says sheepishly, and to his credit, he does look guilty. “did you have fun? a friend caught wind of my return and whisked me away before i could warn you.”

you laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. “it’s alright. it’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“how are you liking inazuma so far?” he asks, shifting to give you more space.

you try to think back to the beauty of watatsumi, gorou’s enthusiasm, and kokomi’s hospitality, but all you can think of is luminescent flowers and twin moles and your hands meeting a bare waist instead of fabric.

“i met this drunk guy in chinju forest. he was just really weird, though, no one worth worrying over,” you recount, pointedly leaving out other details. “i helped him get back in the city. reminds me of what i had to do to you and beidou.” 

“sounds eventful,” kazuha muses, hiding a smile behind a leaf he had snatched out of the air. “where did you leave him off?”

“some guys took him. his co-workers, maybe. hope he doesn’t get fired, poor guy.” you’re starting to not like kazuha’s stare, like he can see the images you’re getting in your head. swiftly, you change the topic back to him. “how about you? what were you doing yesterday?”

“well.” he clears his throat, straightening. hesitantly: “you see—and please, hear me out before you say anything—this friend of mine wants to meet you. urgently, in fact.”

“in a few hours, if possible, he said.”

kazuha should’ve started the conversation with that.

a/n no way heizou fic No way...... no way!!! anyway this was actually rlly fun to write i love heizou so much i can only hope i do him justice in the next part where i have to write him in all his heizou glory </3 title is from ts song guess which one

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Pt. 1

Title: Piece by Piece Pt. 1

Summary: Nearly 18 years old, the reader runs away from a bad situation. On her way, she meets a handsome stranger running from his own problems.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters mentioned

Word Count: 2,422

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and abandonment, implied smut

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

The snow was coming down heavier now than it had been when you’d left. Stupid, channel 10 weatherman. He’d said the snow would let up overnight. He didn’t say a blizzard was moving in. You didn’t have a winter coat – or a plan for that matter. You’d just wanted out. So, you’d thrown together the few belongings you’d amassed over your past 17 years and climbed out of the second story window. Well, more like you’d fallen from the second story window, twisting your ankle in the process.

Now, here you were. Middle of the night in the driving snow, limping down the side of the road. You had originally thought you would be able to hitch a ride but not a single car had passed by in the hour you’d been walking. You needed to get as far away as you could before they woke up. You couldn’t go back.

The road suddenly lights up and you hear the sound of an engine approaching from behind. You turn and shield your eyes from the headlights as you stop and hold your thumb out. That’s what they did in all the movies. The women also generally showed a little leg but you weren’t stupid. It was dangerous enough being a 17-year-old girl out in the middle of the night by herself asking complete strangers for rides. The vehicle slows, coming to a stop next to you. You pull the handle on the door and quickly slide into the passenger seat, immediately thanking whatever entity was listening for the radiating heat inside.

“Where you headed, Sweetheart?” The driver of the car asks. You look over at him for the first time and your heart nearly stops. He was gorgeous, probably around your age. In his bright green eyes, you could see – concern? Why was he so worried? Did you look like a deranged serial killer?

It wasn’t until he reached over and turned the heat up even more that you realized you were shaking so profusely. You hadn’t noticed how cold you had actually gotten standing out in the snow. You probably would have drifted into hypothermic shock if he hadn’t come around that corner when he did. Your savior quickly sheds his leather jacket and reaches over, draping it around your shoulders.

“Th-thank you,” you tell him through chattering teeth. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket tighter around you and his scent envelopes you immediately; a mix of the leather, cologne, and earth.

“Where you headed?” He asks again. You frown and shake your head slightly.

“As f-far away from here as p-possible,” you admit. His response is unexpected. He laughs. You look at him and his smile is breathtaking, highlighting two perfect dimples in his cheeks.

“You too, huh?” He asks. It takes a second to register then you smile as well. He was running away too. He puts the car in gear and slowly continues down the road. “I’m Dean by the way. Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him. The two of you ride in silence for a few minutes as you bring your body temperature back up to normal. Once the shivering subsides, you glance over at him. “So, Dean Winchester, what are you running away from?” He lets out a sigh and you see his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“My dad – he’s got some pretty high expectations. Got tired of it,” he says. You nod and he cuts his eyes over at you. “What about you? Family trouble?” You shake your head, looking out the window at the driving snow.

“No. I don’t have a family,” you say. You know he’s still waiting for you to explain. You hesitate for a moment then sigh. “My mother got pregnant when she was just a kid, 17, my age. Neither of my parents wanted me so I’ve been in the system since I was just a baby. I was with this one family, the Baxter’s, till I was 13. They were great. I thought they were going to adopt me but…I don’t know. One day, they called my social worker and told her to come get me. I’ve been in eight different homes since. And this one…it’s not a good place. I’m almost 18 but – I don’t think I can handle another 3 months.”

“Sounds like a damn good reason to me,” he says. You glance over at him, surprised. You’d expected him to press you for more information, ask you a ton of questions you didn’t want to answer, but he didn’t. He let it go and, instead, punched in the cassette tape that was sitting half out of the player. The sound of a lead guitar fills the car as you ride on into the night.

Eventually, the snow gets too heavy to keep going. Dean pulls the car off onto a side road and parks between a couple of trees. He turns the volume down so that it’s just background noise then turns to face you. You expect those difficult questions now but that’s not what you get. He asks you your favorite color, movie, song, book. And you ask him the same questions. The two of you spend the next two hours playing 20 Questions, or 120 Questions more like.

“And Sammy got mad, threw the ball at me but he missed and knocked out the back windshield,” he laughs. You smile and shake your head, watching him. His smile falls slowly as the memory continues to play in his mind. “He was scared to death. I told Dad it was my fault.” He looks at his hands, an unspoken truth hanging in the air between you. Sliding across the seat, you take his hands in yours.

“Sam’s lucky to have you. I’d give anything to have someone love me the way you love him,” you tell him. He smiles slightly then turns your hands over in his. He carefully pushes the sleeve of your shirt up. You watch as he gently runs his thumb over the small circular burns that pepper your inner arm.

“You know, I’m not sure I like the idea of you out on your own,” he says, glancing up at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, fighting a smile.

“Oh? Why’s that?” You ask. He looks up at you fully now and the look on his face is one you’ve seen already, when you first got in the car – concern.

“There’s a lot of bad stuff out there, Y/N. Evil stuff. Monsters,” he says. You smile a little sadly and look down at your arm again.

“I already live with a monster,” you tell him. He shakes his head, letting your hands go. You return your attention to his face to find he appears torn, as though there’s something he wants to tell you, something he needs to tell you. He’s searching your eyes for an answer to an unspoken question. You bite your lip then takes his hands in yours again. “What is it, Dean?”

“You’ll run if I tell you,” he says. That sentence should scare you, but it doesn’t. He says it with so much care and concern. Something deep inside tells you that you’d never run away from him, no matter what he says or does and that scares you. But he’s worried about you and you can count on one hand the number of people in your life that have been genuinely worried for your safety and well-being.

“I don’t scare easy,” you tell him. He looks at your hands then closes his eyes and for a moment you think he’s praying; praying that you’re right. You squeeze his hands and he sighs before speaking.

“Monsters are real, Y/N. I don’t mean just bad people. I mean…monsters. Like vampires and werewolves and ghosts and — when I was four years old a demon killed my mom. So Dad, he packed me and little six month old Sammy up and we’ve been hunting down these monsters ever since, trying to find the demon that got Mom,” he confesses.

There’s nothing but the sound of the wind and Bon Jovi playing quietly in the background as his words hang in the air. Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Demons. Dean looks up at you slowly, trying to read your face but years of practice help you keep your emotions in check. You take your time, processing each word carefully. Finally, you look out the windshield at the snow.

“One of the houses I was at, I was sure it was haunted. No one else believed me but every night my room would get so cold and I could hear a girl crying. But I was the only girl in the house. Then finally I saw her. She was in the corner, crying. They were convinced I was crazy, had me taken away the next day,” you say slowly. You look at Dean to find he’s watching you and you smile. “Joke’s on them, I guess.”

“You believe me?” He asks, staring at you as though you were telling him monsters were real. You let out a light laugh and nod.

“I don’t claim to know everything or have all the answers to life’s questions so yea. I’m sure there are plenty of unexplainable, paranormal things out there,” you tell him. He gives you a big, goofy grin that makes you laugh even harder. “So…if I can’t go out on my own because a…goblin is gonna get me…”

“Goblin? Really?” He asks, laughing now. You smile, watching, as he leans back against the door, shaking his head. “Sorry, Sweetheart, but David Bowie isn’t gonna come kidnap you.”

“Didn’t have you pegged as a Jim Henson fan,” you say, smirking at him. He smiles and shrugs.

“You watch whatever you can growing up in motels,” he explains. You nod then look at your hands, still intertwined with his own.

“Okay, no goblins then. I can’t go out on my own because a…vampire?” You ask, looking back at him. He nods once and you continue. “A vampire might attack me. What do you suggest I do then?” He smiles a crooked, half smile and shrugs his shoulders.

“I was thinking – maybe – instead of dropping you off at the Greyhound station in the morning, we could stick together,” he suggests.

“You asking me to run away with you, Dean Winchester?” You ask, watching him. He shrugs again. You smile a sad, knowing smile and shake your head. “No.”

“No?” He asks, surprised. You shake your head again and look at your hands.

“No. See, you don’t really want to run away. You’re just mad at your dad right now. You’d want to go back to him and to Sam,” you tell him. His face falls and he looks away, knowing you’re right. “And me, well – I know what’ll happen to me if I run away. I’ll end up on the street, a nameless victim for some monster, human or otherwise.”

“You’re going back there??” He asks, looking back at you quickly. You smile and reach up, placing your hand against his cheek. That same concern was back in his eyes, his beautiful green eyes that you never wanted to forget.

“I am. Sure, it’s bad, but…I turn 18 and graduate in three months. I’ll be able to leave and get some help with college and work. Lesser of two evils,” you explain. He still frowns, unsure. Your smile slowly turns into a smirk. “Besides, aren’t you 19? I don’t think this counts as running away anymore.” That makes him smile before chuckling.

“Yea, pretty sure we’ve crossed into grand theft auto,” he says, nodding slightly. You laugh and now it’s his turn to smirk. He sits up, leaning in towards you slightly. “Guess that makes you my accomplice.”

“The Bonnie to your Clyde?” You ask. He nods and you just catch his eyes quickly dart down to your lips. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth for a second then let it go. “How mad is he gonna be?”

“I’ll just tell him I was rescuing this girl from a goblin,” he tells you. You throw your head back laughing and he smiles widely, showing off those dimples again. “Ya know, it’s crazy. We’ve known each other barely three hours but…I’m really gonna miss you.” You smile softly and put your hand against his cheek again.

“Me too,” you say quietly. You see his emerald eyes drift down again, slower this time, before returning to your Y/E/C ones. Your fingers slide back into his hair before you lean in, pressing your lips against his. His lips are soft and timid at first, unsure of your intent. You move forward, slowly straddling his waist. His hands find the edge of your shirt and his fingers just graze the skin underneath, sending a shiver down your spine.

************************************************************************

Dean finds a blanket in the backseat as you slip into his flannel button-up shirt. He smirks as he watches you before pulling his jeans back on.

“What?” You ask, laughing. He shrugs slightly.

“Looks better on you,” he says, pointing to the shirt. You smile as he lays back on the seat before laying down next to him, curling into him quickly. He throws the blanket over the two of you then wraps his arms around you tight. “You sure you don’t wanna go on back? Sneak back in and avoid trouble?” You shake your head quickly.

“Can’t sneak back in. Besides, I’d really rather stay here for a few more hours,” you tell him. He nods and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Alright. Sweet dreams,” he whispers into your hair. You close your eyes and quickly drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Dean drives you back to the house. You share one last kiss that neither of you wants to end before he drapes his leather jacket back over your shoulders. You get out of the car and trudge up to the house slowly, knowing you’ll never see Dean Winchester again. When you get inside, the family isn’t happy like you knew they wouldn’t be. You return to your room, fresh wounds on your arms. Later that afternoon, a man knocks on the door, asking to speak to you. He says he’s with the FBI and asks you about the bandages on your arms. Before he leaves, he speaks to your foster parents alone in the other room. They don’t touch you again after that.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 2 here.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday (Second, sillier part to follow Friday)

Poll Results: Trespasser Jak

Picking up from HERE, Jak and Daxter have been taken back to Spargus

The drive back to the city was not quiet. Every couple seconds, the kid with the amulet he shouldn't have had was pointing to something else, talking a mile a minute to the fuzzy orange thing. The red rock bluffs fascinated him. The crocadeer on the clifftops fascinated him. The frith-rotted cactus was interesting to this stranger.

Jak started to lean out of the seat again, trying to take in every speck of the horizon.

"Will you stop that?" Damas asked irritably, "You're going to fall out, and I'm not turning this car around to go get you. What are you so entranced by, huh?"

Jak's enthusiasm wasn't dimmed in the slightest. "After they took us to Haven- I thought there was nothing left out there but wasteland!"

"You're in the Wasteland," Damas reminded him.

"Nah."

Jak stood up despite the driver's protests and clung to the turret gun to watch a flock of birds.

"This place isn't wasted. It's alive."

"And you won't be if you don't sit down right now-!"

Damas’s headache only multiplied -- exponentially. once they had actually returned Spargus.

The stranger gawked at everything, sometimes lagging as many as ten behind to look at the most mundane things. Forges. The communication hub/post office. Leapers. A stray chickalope he tried to pick up-!

Getting him into the Gate District garrison building took five minutes longer than it should've, by which time Damas’s patience was almost completely gone. It was all he could do to keep some modicum of professionalism as he herded the boy and the talking spirit thing into a clean, well-lit room for interrogation. He left them with a stern warning to wait there until someone came to figure out who they were.

Then he left to make a very strong pot of coffee. He wasn't going back in there without it.

He quickly decided that needed another kind of drink when he returned ten minutes later only to find Jak, barefoot, sitting on top of the table like a moody teenaged gargoyle. That ratty blue winter tunic was tied around his waist now, and the loose scarf and oversized undershirt didn't quite cover a surprising amount of scars for someone his age -- or maybe not so surprising if he was an Heir, given the proclivity of Haven to put those through the wringer-

No. No jumping to conclusions.

Old burns on the soles of his feet that looked roughly six to seven years old -- a childhood accident or stubborn adventure, most likely -- were the most benign of them. Damas saw old, healed clawmarks, and strange fractal-like patterns not unlike those struck by lightning, crossing his upper arms, shoulders and chest. Here and there he saw raised lines -- the telltale sutures of do-it-yourself shrapnel removal. Regardless of whose blood flowed in his veins, this kid was a soldier. And it looked like he'd been a soldier for a depressingly long time.

Damas pushed the thoughts from his mind and took a seat in the chair the trespasser had ignored.

"Alright. Let's get this over with as quickly as we can, shall we? I have a lot of work to do today."

"Oh...kay...?" Jak gave him a puzzled, wary look and scooted back across the table to rest his back against the wall. "I mean, I can't answer everything, and half of what I do tell you won't sound believable, but that's honestly not my problem."

Patience, Damas. Inhale, slowly. You're just stressed. You can't kill him if he's related to you.

Damas took an exaggerated breath and folded his hands on the top of the table. "I don't much care about your activities in Haven. My agents deliver news regularly enough. No, I want to know how you opened a locked door with a Seal of Mar on it."

The kid looked surprised, and then intrigued.

"Mar? Wait, really? He made it out here too?" Jak looked almost impressed. "Huh! Guy got around!"

"Answer the question."

The orange one answered in the kid's stead.

"Jak here's got the distinct misfortune of being descended from the guy-"

*Allegedly," Jak interrupted. His voice was distinctly harder than before.

"What "allegedly"? Dragging me into the frickin nightmare tomb wasn't enough for ya?"

"Everything we know about that guy we got from Krew, or Samos," his companion argued, "And most of the Oracles didn't bother to warn us that Samos was lying to us our whole lives. So no, I'm not taking that on faith."

Clearly this was a sore spot for the young man.

It just so happened to also be a very sore spot for Damas.

They were just going to act like they so happened to "conveniently" let slip that this boy was supposed to be related to him? Did they think he was a fool?

"What are you playing at?" he snapped, startling them both. "Do you think I am so easily taken in?"

"What-?"

"Tell me, boy," Damas said, much more quietly, "What makes you either brave enough or stupid enough to try to pull that story with me?"

And Jak blinked at him with eyes that were a little too familiar. Wide. Full of shadows and pain and anger but still clinging to the vestiges of innocence. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

"Um. Who? Are you?"

If this was a con, the kid was a decent actor, Damas had to give him that.

"You're telling me you're a survivor of the House of Mar."

"No? I said other people told me I was related to that guy. People with a vested interest in controlling me."

Jak scoffed bitterly and spread his arms wide.

"Little "abandoned" orphan boy kept isolated to train as a soldier, so he wouldn't know what they planned for him. Wouldn't run. And then magically suddenly he's heir to the worst city on the planet? Give me a break. The guards in Praxis's lab came up with better lies than that."

Damas wanted to agree with the kid. He wanted so much to agree with him. Whatever else he might be, clearly Jak was not the kind of person who bought into delusions of grandeur. In fact, he sounded like he actively resented the thought. Damas could appreciate that. Rot, he could even sympathize with the kid.

But.

He had opened a sealed door.

And the river-weasel had just said something about a Tomb.

He really really didn't want to be right, but if they could give an accurate description of the Tomb at some point, that information would be pretty hard to fake.

"Why did they think they could pass you off as Haven's heir?" Damas asked bluntly.

"Because I can make old Precursor crap work, I guess? And the Oracles like me." Jak folded his arms and shrugged. "They're useless when it comes to actually protecting anyone, but at least they tried to help after the fact. More than most hu'mens did."

Oh. Alright, okay. Maybe he's a sage prodigy and he's never been trained. That would make sense-

"Pal, the Oracle called you a "chosen one". That's gotta mean something."

"Chosen for what? Time looped torture?" Jak's entire posture had become rigid. He was beyond agitated, but Damas couldn't quite pin down if it was anger or fear or something closer to grief.

"....I...sorry." The orange one looked down, clearly ashamed. "That's- fair point. I won't bring it up anymore."

Damas didn't want to hear another word of this. Not one. Without stopping to think lest he talk himself out of it, he drew a knife from the back of his belt. The boy tensed even further, looking like he might snap as he watched Damas pull a sheet of paper haphazardly from the notepad that came standard in all the interrogation rooms. Damas ignored him and placed the tip of the blade to the pad of his thumb, pushing until two large drops of blood dripped onto the paper. The boy's tension eased slightly, but he still looked vaguely alarmed.

Damas wiped the blade and, steeling himself, held it out hilt-first to Jak.

"Your turn."

Jak glared at him.

"Are you nuts?"

Damas remained stonefaced. "You want to prove those people wrong? Blood comparison. Computer will be able to identify if it matches old records or not."

"Then why'd you cut yourself?" Jak challenged.

"Control sample," Damas answered shortly, staring until the boy gave in and set the blade against the tip of his little finger.

He declined to specify whether he meant for or against.

Jak twisted his pinkie between his fingers and let a single drop of blood fall onto the paper. He narrowed his eyes at Damas.

"And this is supposed to take...how long?"

"Two months if they're not busy."

Jak unfolded his legs and slid off the tabletop. "Months?! What good does that do me? They'll probably have found a way to guilt me into going back to Haven by then!"

Hm.

Damas leaned back in his chair and studied the boy with a new perspective.

"You're a runaway. Aren't you?"

Jak scowled and folded his arms.

"I'm not! I'm just...there's something I have to do out here. And I can't go back yet."

Suspicion trickled in cold at the back of Damas’s mind. He folded the edge down over the bloodied paper and tucked it into his belt.

"And what," he asked warily, "is this "something" you intend to do?"

The boy's ears dropped, broadcasting uncertainty despite his belligerent posture.

"I...don't know yet. There's just...something was calling me. And I can't leave until I know what it is."

This boy was going to be a walking migraine trigger, wasn't he? But unfortunately there was a reasonably high probability that he was Damas’s kinsman, which meant that under no circumstances could he just toss the kid back to Haven and say "not my circus, not my moncaws".

Just get through this until the blood tests come back. Who knows, maybe the guy will find a place here in the meantime. Or he might decide to fight the squid and die horribly. One step at a time.

Damas opened the door and beckoned to one of the district guards down the hall. Commander Shui left her subordinates immediately to respond.

"Sir?"

Damas nodded back towards the trespasser.

"Have someone show him to the showers. Once he's cleaned up, see if you can't determine his age."

Shui glanced at Jak, but never lost her stoic expression. "Understood. Is he a candidate for the trials?"

Damas ignored the harsh whispering between the boy and the...okay that was called an ottsel apparently. Didn't have those out in the desert.

"I doubt even he knows. For the moment, we will proceed as though he is a refugee."

He sighed.

"I have matters to attend to. Inform me if he causes any problems."

Jak wasn't sure how to feel about this turn of events. Six days of maddening dreams of eco comets and a broken string of beads. Five days of something pulling on his eco core, or his soul, the way the Precursor Stone had.

He wasn't sorry for leaving Haven in the middle of the night. The Grand Council had been getting more and more vocal with their more...Praxian...views on his right to life and liberty, and Samos just kept telling him to focus on what was "more important", fighting metalheads and new Krimzon Deathbots.

When the Call took him down that ancient eco mine, it had felt like an escape. He'd told himself he'd go back after he found what was at the end of the tunnel. And he'd meant to, if only because he thought he had nowhere else to go. After all, Daxter had built a life in Haven. He had a mentor. A girlfriend. A whole business!

But regardless of all the pretty lies Samos and Onin and Ashelin filled his ears with, Haven was not Jak's home. He would not take responsibility for their evil. And even if he was descended from their founder, they all let Praxis kill whatever blood relatives he might've had! They decided the line of Mar had no say in government, so who was Jak to contradict them?

It was strange -- almost unfathomable -- how his perspective could have changed with a rebalancing of eco. The Oracle down in that desert temple, it had pushed through old scars, given him access to light eco, when he'd thought the substance didn't exist anymore. The constant aches that ruled his every waking moment when it was even slightly cold out, the irritability, the burning in his core, it was gone.

How had he become so accustomed to at least low levels of pain as a daily companion? Jak hadn't realized how bad his condition had been until it was gone. And his mind felt clearer than it had in months. Maybe even years. Home was far behind them now. Sandover was forever lost to them, along with all remains of Jak's innocence. Because of Onin. And because of Samos.

Without his thoughts dulled by pain and lack of sleep, Jak thought of his heartfelt thanks to the manipulative old sage and wanted to be sick.

And now he was on an island, eighty nautical miles from Haven. A wild, living, sanctuary of Wastelanders and open wilderness. They called it "wasteland", but Jak couldn't understand why when it was so beautiful.

That Call still pulled at his heart, told him he wasn't done here yet. And he was relieved, because the longer he spent under clear, blue, sky, the more he hated the thought of returning to that corrupted city.

Just because he'd told Ashelin it was worth saving didn't mean he belonged to it.

Damas -- the angry man he'd startled when they came up out of the catacombs -- left, and a well-built woman about his height entered the interrogation room.

"Holy crap, a lady Sig!" Daxter hissed in his ear.

The Wastelander did have a prosthetic eye -- her left, not her right -- of the same make, but that was really the only similarity. She carried herself like Ashelin -- someone in command, used to cooperation if not obedience -- and that alone put Jak on-edge. He met her searching gaze with a hard stare, determined not to be the first to flinch.

"Hm." The woman clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"I see what he means. When's the last time you washed?"

"Do pools of water count?" Jak asked. If there was sarcasm in the tone, so what? "Expendables don't get time to wash."

"Eesh." The woman curled her lip. "Well that's not going to fly in my garrison."

She turned to shout down the hall, "Strom! Get the rookie to the showers before the flies move in!"

"Oh rot you!"

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 7 / 31 * BACK IN TOWN 」

April 13, 1989, 23:51

1646 Riverside Drive

Marty had barely registered the walk in the evening air, his body functioning on autopilot to lead him to his second home, the place he thinks he could navigate to in his sleep. At this hour, not even the birds are awake, and Marty feels the stake of loneliness drive deeper and deeper into his very soul.

Doc should be here, he thinks as he steals the key from its usual hiding spot under the mat. This is where he’d greet me and ask what happened that brought me all the way out here at this hour.

The rhythmic ticking of Doc’s clocks is the only thing that greets him now.

The door screams into the darkness as it swings open and Marty makes a mental note to oil those hinges the next time he comes around. The old garage feels hollow without Doc’s larger-than-life presence filling it and his shoulders sag as he trudges to the couch, plopping himself down on it with a sigh that ages him twelve years.

His home feels like a prison. Jennifer’s asleep by now. He needed somewhere—anywhere—to be and before all this, before this new and improved timeline with a family that pays too much attention and smiles and laughs together so much it’s still a little unsettling, he would come here to escape from the world.

Even without Doc here, he still finds himself doing that. 

Maybe one day he’ll come back.

I’ve got a million and one things to tell you, Doc. I wish you were here.

I hope you’re doing okay back there.

He’d checked religiously that first month after coming home for another tombstone popping up in Boot Hill Cemetery, his heart leaping into his throat every time he walked from one to the next, terrified that everything he did was for nothing—that in the end, Doc was fated to die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it now.

November came and went, the names on the tombstones never changed, and after that, Marty had allowed himself to check less and less frequently, limiting his visits to once a week, then once every two weeks until there had been only one visit per month.

Doc was still alive and well and Marty breathed a little easier, finding some small comfort in that fact. At least he wasn’t alone. Clara was back there with him, sharing in the moments of Doc’s life that Marty couldn’t be there for.

All he has left are ghosts of his best friend frozen here in time in this garage, collecting dust.

The time machine plans are safe, even if they’re all but useless now. He’d picked up a thing or two from Doc over the years in the sciences, enough to where he could keep up until he started speaking a second language, diving into fourth-dimensional mechanics that admittedly made his head spin. Three dimensions he understood fine. Four, however, made things confusing—it turned everything on its head, leaving him floundering to try and keep up.

The space-time continuum.

N-dimensional space.

What isn’t yet will be and what is never was.

Sometimes, he thinks about laying out every one of Doc’s meticulously kept notes across every available square inch of his room and burning the formulas into his eyes until something finally clicks into place, allowing him to recreate his best friend’s genius.  

Doc had wanted the time machine destroyed—Doc made sure the time machine was destroyed, stranding Marty in a reality without him—but if he stares long and hard enough, he could do it, he could reconstruct it, he could get Doc back—

Sometimes, he wants to throw the entire box into a blazing fire and watch until time crumples before his very eyes, reduced to nothing more than dust and a dream. Time-travel fixed his life. Time-travel had thrown him to hell and back, threatened his existence, warped his entire perception of the world, leaving him a stranger in a strange land he’s only still learning how to navigate, and now it had stolen his best friend from him and ensured that Marty would never see him again.

Tonight is one of those nights where he curses time-travel, where the reality of his and Doc’s situation hit harder than normal, throwing him into a dark cavern he bloodies his hands trying to crawl out of.

“I wish I’d never invented that infernal time machine. It’s caused nothing but disaster.”

—Me too, Doc. Then at least you’d still be here.

April 14, 1989, 01:31

The sound of a mechanical scream rouses Marty from his unintentional slumber with a start and the adrenaline now coursing through his veins makes quick work of any lingering sleep in his eyes and mind. He squints under the lights and grabs for the first thing within reach—a broken piece of pipe Doc had been using for one of his old experiments—preparing himself for the worst.

“Stay back, whoever you are! I’m warning you!”

An all-too-familiar shriek roots Marty where he stands.

“D—” The word catches in his throat and Marty runs through every prayer he knows that he’s not imagining this. “Doc? Is that you?”

Doc recovers in the blink of an eye, turning to face Marty with a bright grin on his face. “Marty! I didn’t think you’d be here—what are you doing here a—you know what, never mind that for now. I’m so happy to see you, Marty. It’s been so long.”

The pipe tumbles out of Marty’s stunned hands and he rubs at his eyes, half-convinced the illusion will disappear right before his eyes and break his heart all over again. Doc is still there, blurred slightly at the edges, and Marty lunges forward, grabbing his best friend in a back-breaking hug.

“Doc, I can’t b—how are you here? I thought I’d never see you again.”

Doc returns the hug with more strength than Marty remembers him having and he grunts slightly, wishing the moment to stretch an eternity to make up for the last four years.

After a beat, Doc breaks the hug, holding him at arm’s length with his hands firmly pressed on his shoulders. Marty knows that look; it’s that same conspiratorial you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you look Doc wore that night at the mall when he’d unveiled the DeLorean.

“We’re moving back to the Twentieth Century. I’m here to check on a few things.”

His breath catches. “You’re—that’s great, Doc, that’s—you mean it? You’re really coming back?”

“That’s right. We’ve still got several things to sort out, but once everything is taken care of, we’ll be moving here. We’ve come to the decision that it’s too potentially dangerous to stay in the Nineteenth Century for the rest of our lives.”

“Wait a minute, Doc—who is we?”

[aiko0invalid]

|Older|

Genre: Fluff/Slow burn

TW:Cursing/Suggestive/Bl00d

Au:Non-idol/Vampire/Strangers to lovers

Additional info: Reader is Female and a human while Minho is a Vampire. Reader is visiting family during the holidays and encounters Minho throughout her stay an oddly amount of times. Stray Kids are a clan of Vampires. Mentions of Hyunlix.

Previous: Here Next: ->>

╚»★«╝

Ch.2

It’s been a few days since the bookstore incident and it’s your last day in town before you drive all the way back down to Seoul.

“Have you started packing yet?” Your mom asked you, busy making breakfast as you walked downstairs. “No, I still have the rest of the day to finish.” You replied, earning you a scowl.

“Ok, ok.” You raised your hands in mock surrender, making your way back upstairs to pack up what little things you have out. “What are you doing?”

Soomin said, peaking her head into the doorway of the guest room as you sat on the floor; trying to organize your clothes so they could all fit.

“Packing, why?” You answered briefly before she came over to sit next to you. “Umma is making breakfast though.” She yawned softly and that’s when you looked over at her.

She wore a white hoodie you bought for her for Christmas last year and a pair of black athletic shorts with fuzzy socks. He hair was in a messy bun and you could see the remnants of black from her mascara.

“You know how she is with time, she gets freaked out if everything isn’t hours ahead schedule.” You huffed and Soomin agreed with a small laugh. “Let’s go out and do something at least!” She smiled.

You cocked an eyebrow while tilting your head to the side. “Like what? You already dragged me to the ‘library’.” You snickered, using air quotes as she pouted at you.

“We still have your old skates~” she smirked, standing up quickly with crossed arms. “The ice rink should be open by lunch time, they moved it to the north side by the high school”. She explained and you deadpanned at her.

It had been awhile since you ice skated, and when you did try to find it at first it was only so you could see if it looked the same. Considering that it was torn down to be moved, it most definitely didn’t look the same.

“Come on! Just one last thing before you have to leave”. Soomin whined, pulling on your arm to stand up with her.

“Ok, ok!” You caved in, sighing as her eyes lit up. “Really!?” She smiled gleefully and you sighed once again before nodding. “Hurry up packing then!”

The ice rink definitely looked different, it was wayyy bigger now. The old one wasn’t even half the size of this, more like a quarter.

“See~” Soomin grinned, walking in next to you with her skates in one hand and yours in the other. “I don't know where they got the money from, but who cares.” Soomin shrugged her shoulders before giving you your skates.

You looked around in awe at the size of the rink and building as you followed behind her to where there was some benches so you could lace up your skates. "When did they move it?" You questioned, struggling a bit to slip on your right skate.

"2 years ago, I think." Soomin said, humming a bit before nodding. "Yeah, it was 2 years ago. I remember because that was the year we had the major snowstorm." You nodded as you listened to her, tying your right skate up before struggling again to put on your left skate.

"And when did you learn how to skate?" you asked, a teaisng smirk gracing your face as Soomin paused. "I haven't learned yet..." She mumbled and you placed a hand over the shell of your ear. "Hmm?" You asked, not quiet hearing her.

"I haven't learned yet.." She said a 2nd time, a bit louder and enough to hear her, but just to piss her off you hum again. "Sorry, what?" You grinned and she scowled at you. "I don't know how to skate yet!"

She yelled, throwing her arms up with annoyance and you only just laughed at her. "I heard you the 2nd time, don't worry." You snickered and she only huffed again.

You finished up with tying your skates and stood up slowly, she also stood up but in a snail pace with wobbly legs. You held your hands out for her and she immediately gripped onto your arms.

“Don’t you dare let go of me.” She said quickly, catching the grin growing on your face and you instantly rolled your eyes at her. “I’m not going to let go.”

You slowly walked backwards towards the ice rink, her eyes wide with fear as she shuffled her feet slowly.

Your feet met the ice rink and you slid backwards before having to abruptly stop as Soomin pulls you back. “Wait! I need a scooty!” She wailed. You sighed slightly.

“Go on and get it then, I’ll wait here.” You said and she whined at that. “But!” She started but stopped shortly with a grumble. “Fine, I’ll be back.” She pouted and slowly, like in an extremely slow pace, waddled away to the section where the skating buddies were.

As you waited patiently you couldn’t help but look around at your surroundings, noticing everything that was different from the last skating rink.

The support beams that instead of being 80’s neon are black, the old carpet that used to cover the entire floor other than the actual ice was gone too. Only a black rubbery tile there.

The light fixtures were big and round and there was many fake plants around the place.

It was a more homey and yet modern vibe to the place, it reminded you of how you are now.

You looked to your right, a few people skating by, including a little girl and a slightly taller boy. The little girl was helping the taller boy learning how to skate and it was the cutest sight you will ever see.

To your left, is a few more people skating this includes a few teenage couples fawning with each other. You were glad you weren’t in that stage anymore.

But if you were to look straight ahead, you’d see… Felix!?

No, that’d be too strange. Sure, it’s been a few days since you and your sister went to the bookstore but it was odd you were seeing him again.

This time he was skating next to a taller male, who even from far away you could tell he was gorgeous. He had long black hair, one side of his hair had a thick braid while the other side was just down and flowing.

It wasn’t incredibly long, only down to his shoulders but still pretty. They both wore bundled up sweaters and black pants, hand in hand as they seemed to be talking about something while simultaneously gliding with ease.

Soomin came back right then, her legs still shaky but she was little more confident with her skating buddy. “Are you sure you want to skate? When you were younger you used to just play in the arcade.” You asked, knowing that despite her wanting to learn, she wasn’t going to anytime soon.

“I would go play in the arcade… but, I don’t have enough money. I spent it all at the town square.” You sighed and took out your wallet. “How much are the cards?” If the arcade was the same as the one in the old roller rink then all you had to do was buy her an ‘all playing’ card and you don’t have to bye tokens.

“$25.59” she said quickly, flashing her teeth with a smile and holding out her hand. You deadpanned and handed her a 20, 5, and a dollar. “Knock yourself out.” You grumbled and she quickly sat down to take off her skates.

You made your way to the rink, stuffing your hands in your pockets to warm them up. As you breathed you could see your breath in the ice cold air, and without trying you catch the eyes of someone you least expected.

“Chan..?”

╚»★«╝

Taglist: - [🦋] @skzenthusiastt

🦋Want to be tagged for the next chapter? Message me to be added to my taglist!🦋

[itscaptaint]

Good Vibrations

Pairing: Dean x reader

warnings: smut, cheesy writing, masturbation, Dean being too hot to handle

You had taken a solo case again to try and clear your mind a little bit. Living in the bunker had been great, but the alone time was pretty sparse…especially with the eldest Winchester sleeping right down the hall. 

Sam knew you had been harboring a crush on his brother for years and just wouldn't act on it because you didn't want to ruin your friendship. Dean was your best friend. Hell, he was basically just the male version of you. You were two peas in a pod. One night, the three of you had gotten blitzed after a bad vamp hunt and Sam had put the pieces together. You couldn't stop flirting with Dean, he had lingering glances towards you, it was obvious as hell to Sam, just not to either you or Dean. So you both just ignored it and went on as if there was nothing there. 

That's why a solo hunt was much needed. The sexual frustration was getting to be too much. And you knew you couldn't handle spending one more night alone with the man you wanted to jump just down the hall. If you took a case, that meant an empty motel room, a stranger from a bar and hopefully a little release to get you through for a bit. You didn't think you needed to leave too many details for the boys, just enough to know you were working and we're safe. So you left a note…

Headed out for a few days, helping out an old friend with a case in Denver, I'll call if I need rescuing.

It was a perfectly good note, at least you thought it was. Sam did too. But Dean didn't. 

"What the fuck is this?" Dean growled from the other end of the phone. 

"Well hello to you too, Dean," you chirped as you were walking into your motel room for the night. "I guess you saw my note?"

"Yeah I see the fucking note. Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Dude, I took care of it," you sighed, sitting down on your bed. "I'll be back tomorrow." 

You could tell from the tone of his voice he was more frustrated than pissed. He hated when you got hurt and couldn't do anything about it. "What if you needed help? What if you got hurt?" 

"I told you, Dean, I'm fine. Perfectly good condition. I just needed some alone time."

"Alone time?" Dean questioned. "So you decided that meant you were going to go hunting solo without backup?"

Now you are getting frustrated. He knew you could handle yourself, so why is he all concerned now? 

"Dean," you sigh. You were so tired and just wanted to sleep and take care of some personal business since the bar was a total bust. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself, and I needed some time away from-" you started to say. 

"From what, Y/n?" 

"Good night, Dean," you sighed, hung up and turned the phone off so you couldn't be bothered for the rest of the night. Once the phone was off, you showered, changed into one of Dean's old flannels he knew you had stolen but never made a fuss over, and then gave yourself a pretty damn good orgasm thinking of Dean before falling asleep. 

When you woke in the morning, you had forgotten the phone was off, so when you plugged it in for the drive home, it automatically turned on. And started buzzing with missed texts and calls from Dean. Typically when you drive on long trips the phone rests.on your thigh so it doesn't fall between the seats or clunk around the cup holders. Sometimes it ends up between your legs and you've never thought anything of it…until now. 

You reach down, send a quick text to the boys letting them know you'll be back in a few hours, then put the phone right back on your leg so it's out of the way, but handy if needed in an emergency. About 10 minutes later it starts vibrating. You look and see that it's Dean. You just told him you were on your way home and don't feel like arguing while driving so you just let it keep ringing and go to voicemail. The last vibration of your phone that was notifying you of a missed call moves the phone just enough so that it slides down between your thighs. At least it won't fall on the floor. 

A few more minutes pass and you feel the phone start vibrating again, but this time it's right on the seam on your jeans between your legs and is sending a slight tingle to your core. You know it's Dean again so you refuse to answer and let it ring through. By the time it's done ringing, you realize that the vibration of the phone against your crotch has got you slightly turned on. 

"Son of a bitch," you mumble to yourself. "That mother fucker has me getting horny and he's not even here."

Dean calls you 7 more times before you get back to the bunker. You ignored all the calls simply for the fact that you'd been wanting Dean to make you feel good for years and it was finally happening. You don't see the Impala in the garage and decide to enjoy some peace and quiet before heading inside. No Impala, no Dean around. And no Dean around meant a perfect time to fantasize over the man that had been accidentally edging you the whole way home. 

You turn the engine off, close your eyes, lean your head back against the headrest. You let your hands wander to the place Dean had been torturing the whole ride home. It didn’t take long to finish since you were already hot and bothered and probably a good thing too since the rumble of the Impala startled you into alertness. Fuck you Winchester. Can’t even enjoy the post-orgasm bliss. You get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk. As you're reaching up to close it, Dean is at your side closing it for you. 

"You ignoring my calls, y/n?"

"Obviously," you sigh, rolling your eyes and heading inside. 

"You could have gotten hurt by yourself, why didn't you ask for help?!" Dean chases after you. 

"I'm a big girl, Dean. I can take care of myself," you shout, turning the corner to head to your room. "In more ways than one," you mumble under your breath thinking Dean was out of earshot. 

"What did you just say?” Dean interrogates, grabbing your shoulder and turning you around to face him. 

“I can take care of myself, Dean. You know that,” you say, standing a bit taller. You were in a slightly better mood after easing your frustration but still not as calm as you should be. “Now, if you would let go, I would like to shower and enjoy a day off.”

Dean rolls his eyes and releases your shoulder. “Fine. But next time I’m coming.”

“Mmhm,” you smirk and slowly shut your door. If only you were both cumming…

……….

It’s been three days since you’ve been back from your solo hunt and every little thing Dean has done has turned you on. It’s like he doesn’t know how to turn it off. You passed him in the hallway after a shower with just his towel on and wanted to just tear it from his body. The way he sipped his beer made you wish his lips and tongue were on your overly sensitive clit making you scream his name. He was even making you horny as he was mixing up the ground beef with his bare hands for burger night. Dear lord how you wished he would manhandle you the way he was dealing with your dinner.

“Alright,” you sigh, sliding your chair out from the table. “I’m headed out.” You needed a night out of the bunker. Dean’s been causing all sorts of sexual frustration and you were hoping there’d be someone at the bar to help ease the need. 

“Wait, let me grab my jacket,” Dean chirps. 

Well fuck me then. How am I supposed to get laid now with Captain Cock Block joining me. Might as well invite Sam too. You head down the hall to the library where Sam had been eating. “You wanna go to the bar with Dean and me?” Sam kind of just grunted, clearly really focused on whatever he’s reading on his laptop. “Maybe you could keep him occupied so I can get laid by a total stranger?” Sam chokes on his beer. That got his attention. 

“Seriously, Y/n?” You just shrug your shoulders and smile real big hoping it convinces him to join. “Why can’t you two just-”

“You comin’ Sammy?!” Dean practically skips around the corner. 

“He’s being a party pooper,” You stick your tongue out like a kindergartener at Sam and make a mental note to use real eggs for his breakfast tomorrow instead of just egg whites. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”

About 4 beers and 3 shots in, you decide to abort your mission for the night. Usually Dean is the one looking for a hook-up, but he doesn’t seem interested in any of the women throwing themselves at him tonight. And unfortunately, no good prospects for you either. "What do you say we take this party home and get roaring drunk in the library?" You suggest sliding out of the booth. 

"Deal." 

By the time you get back to the bunker, Dean has already decided that a drinking game was a must. Turns out his idea of a drinking game was just asking each other super personal questions, and if an answer was refused, it was time for another shot. You were up first. 

"So Dean," you say, stroking your invisible beard to appear as if you have to think real hard about this question. Little does he know you're pulling out the big guns right away. Helps that you've have a little liquid courage to loosen the tongue. "What's your favorite sex toy?" 

"Damn, y/n, you can't even ease into it, can ya," he chuckled. 

Before you can process what you were saying "That's what she said" came flying out of your mouth. 

"Jesus Christ," Dean gives a full belly laugh. "Well if you must know, I'm a simple man. Handcuffs, blindfolds, headphones, ya know…" 

"Simple, huh?" You smirk, pouring yourself another glass of tequila. You knew you were probably going to regret the drink of choice tomorrow, but oh well. 

"Never had a complaint about my simplicity before," he winks, tipping his glass in my direction. 

You could feel your face heating up, but you weren't sure if it were from embarrassment, jealousy or the fact that you knew this night would end in one of your favorite solo missions. "Alright, pretty boy," you huff, sliding deeper into your chair. "Hit me with your best shot." 

Dean doesn't even have to think about his question. "What's your favorite guilty pleasure song?" 

Wow, that was a tame one. You were really thinking he was about to hit you with something deep and raunchy. "Is it still considered a guilty pleasure if I tell you?" You question.

"Well, darling, you don't have to tell me but then it's a full tequila shot for you." 

"Fine. It's Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepson," you nod, proud of your answer. 

The questions that followed from each of you were silly and personal, but nothing wild. The "game" aspect went out the window an hour ago when Dean polished off his whiskey and you only had a few sips of Tequila left. You told Dean it was bedtime, and since you started the night, he got the final question. 

"You ever been so turned on that you came without a man even touching you?" 

"Only once," you sigh thinking of that time Dean had you all hot and bothered from the excessive phone calls on your way home earlier that week. 

"Oh I'm gonna need details on this one," Dean says, sitting up a little taller in his chair, placing his elbows on the table. You hadn't realized it but he was staring so deep into your soul just now that even though you wanted to call him out and tell him that the game was over and that wasn't a question, you couldn't. There are two ways this is going to go: it’s either going to end in you feeling more embarrassed than you’ve ever felt before, or it’s going to get you what you’ve wanted for a long time. 

You throw back the last little bit of tequila in your glass, prop your chin in your hands making eye contact with Dean and then utter the three words that will either make or break this night. “Eight missed calls.” You continue staring at Dean, a look of confusion on his face.

 He tips his chin upwards, squints and sports his best thinking face. “What about missed calls?”

“It’s truly amazing what a cell phone vibration can do for a girl,” you sigh and stand up, slowly making your way over behind Dean’s chair. He was still thinking about what you said and was trying to put the pieces together. You weren’t sure what just got into you but the thought of Dean making you feel really fucking good - and hopefully from his own touch this time - had you feeling bold. You pull out your phone and lay it down in front of him, showing your missed call log from the other day. Eight missed calls, all from him. You don’t say a word as you take a seat on the edge of the table, your thighs just inches from Dean’s hands. 

Dean didn’t need to audibly respond. You can see him take a breath in and slowly lift his gaze to meet yours. A wave of panic hit, hoping he wouldn’t give you his pity eyes. But his eyes were different. Before, they were filled with mischief and fun, now they were dark and just filled with pure lust and determination. It was a look you had been wanting to see aimed at you for a long time. You return his gaze and your breath hitches ever so slightly that he can hear the small, excited tremble. Dean’s hand reaches out and rests on your thigh. The man has barely touched you and you are already wet for him. You needed him right now and Chuck be damned if he didnt want you too with that look in his eyes. 

You reach out and cup his cheek. “Wanna see what happens when you’re actually touching me?”

“You’re fucking killing me, Y/n,” Dean groaned yanking you onto his lap and crashing his lips to yours. 

It was a sloppy kiss and you were both fighting for dominance. Dean’s hands found your waist and were already sliding your shirt up and over your breasts. You release your hands from being tangled in his hair just long enough to dispose of the trapping garment. Before the shirt hits the ground, Dean has one nipple between his teeth making you throw your head back, pressing your chest closer to him.

“Mmm, you like that?” He mutters, switching over to the other wanting breast. 

Instead of answering, you just grind down deeper onto his lap. You can tell he’s already hard and enjoying this as much as you. He brings his head back up to yours, finding your lips again allowing his hands to grip your waist and set you back on the table. Dean stands to get closer to you and you take advantage and rid him of the flannel you had been wanting to see on the floor alongside yours all night. Once shirtless, you just stare. “Like what you see? Because I know I do,” Dean smirks, diving back into you, this time reaching for the button of your jeans. You lay back and lift your hips to easily get rid of the pants that you felt were holding you hostage. 

The table was cold on your naked ass, but worth it. Dean peppers greedy kisses starting from your neck all the way down until he reaches the crease of your hip before stopping to look up at you. “Last time I made you cum, was it with my mouth, my hands or my cock?” 

Even just his words were making you squirm beneath his touch. “Well, Dean, if you must know, it was all of the above.” 

“Oh baby, then we’re making that happen again tonight. Gotta make sure I see it this time.”

His last words barely a grunt before he delves into your wet folds with his tongue immediately finding your clit. You can hear how wet you are against Dean’s mouth and know this won’t take long. Dean’s teeth latch onto your clit as he slides two fingers into you and begins stroking quickly. He’s a man on a mission and knows how to get what he wants, and Dean wants you to cum…hard. It doesn’t take much longer before you are completely screaming his name, shaking and dripping all over his mouth and hand. 

You barely have time to come down off your high before he tears his own pans off and is sliding his cock into you. “Oh my god, you feel so much better than I imagined,” you groan, falling back onto your elbows. 

“Y/n, I never want you to have to imagine the feeling of me again,” he said, thrusting as hard as he could. “You’re getting the real deal from here on out.” Dean continued thrusting until you could feel his rhythm falter. You knew he was close, as were you. 

“Dean I’m so close, please make me cum again,” you beg, reaching your hands to your breasts for something to hold on to. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” He groans with a final thrust sending both of you over an edge you didn’t think was possible reach. 

After you both catch your breath, Dean pulls you back up into his chest for a sweet kiss. When you pull away, he’s just smiling. 

“Why are you so happy Winchester?” 

“Because I think I won the game.” 

You just shake your head and hop off the table and start to head towards your bedroom leaving your clothes all over the library. “Woah, where are you going?” Dean throws his hands up looking like a lost child at the mall.

“To change my phone ringtone to Good Vibrations,” you shout back, before stopping and turning to look at him. “And to prep for round two.”

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has It's Thorns - Part Fifteen

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking,

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd, readers beware as always lol.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram

Ricky didn’t drive straight home, no, he just drove, it was probably stupid but he did, he just drove, half freaking out. Thankfully, breathing deeply, he was calm, he was fine, he wasn’t having another attack, no. But did he sit there thinking about the way that Ava had talked to him last time, did he sit there and think of her talking him through grounding himself with his senses, five, four, three, two, one... He didn’t have coffee or tea for one this time... He had gum... So that worked well enough.

Did Ava’s voice suspiciously sound like Talia’s? No comment on that. If it did, it was because of her reasoning that Talia was the one who taught her, he’d blame that, easily done.

Finally, it was when he remembered that he had groceries in his car, food that he needed to get home, some of it needing to go in the fridge, and he soon turned around and drove home. He was being an idiot. At least now he was a calmer idiot.

Shit.

None of this made him feel good, none of this made sense. He didn’t even want to go home.

Finally pulling into his drive though, he swallowed heavily when he saw the other car that was waiting for him there, the person that was waiting for him on the stoop. Double shit. He was screwing up so badly, and now he was probably about to get his ass handed to him by Chris. He didn’t even want to imagine why he was there, but he could guess, the fact he was right now was too coincidental. Sighing, he killed the engine before he got out of his car and moved to start getting his cold groceries out of the trunk. The bags had been waiting long enough, and the sooner he put them away, the less likely anything inside would spoil.

He was lifting bags from his car when Chris was coming up beside him, wordlessly grabbing a couple to help him carry inside as well, of course, he was doing it without being asked, Ricky sighed, damn it, he couldn’t even be annoyed at him when he did that. Couldn’t today he just be a little bit selfish and tell him he was a fucking idiot and walk away and let him deal with his stupidity as he should? Like he really should! No. Course not. It had been a week since the party, and Chris had been waiting for him to do something, and he hadn’t... Well, he had, he’d just fucked it up, at the party.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Between them, he got his groceries inside, and everything was put away, and hopefully, everything that was cold was away before anything had been out of the cool long enough to be affected. Considering it wasn’t too hot out, he thought he might have gotten away with it.

Once it was all done. Rick made himself a coffee, considering he hadn’t gone into the café earlier, offering to make Chris one despite seeing him inside the café.. Met with an eye roll as if Chris didn’t know that Ricky had seen him there, drinking his own coffee already.

“You know I’ve just had coffee with Talia, Rick, don’t play games.. What the fuck, man.. I saw the look on your face.”

Ricky shifted uncomfortably, lifting his mug to busy himself with a scalding mouthful of the beverage, swallowing with a grimace,

“I don’t know what to tell you, I just, I reacted. I freaked, and when I realised what was happening, I got the hell out of there. I don’t know what's happening to me.”

Chris frowned, rolling his shoulder, that didn’t sound like like Rick at all, and it worried him, he wanted to be angry because Ricky was just completely disregarding everything everyone was trying to do to help him, every little bit of advice he was being given. Not to mention talking to Talia, spending time with Talia, she was wonderful, and Ricky, was hiding away like some fucking little goblin, for what?

“Rick, I’ll say again, what, the fuck.”

Ricky looked at Chris, he can’t do it, he can’t keep it in, he can’t lie..

“Something happened, at the party, and I, I fucked up Chris, I fucked up bad, and she, we-”

He sighed, heavily, leaning back against the breakfast bar that separated his kitchen and his living room he set his coffee down while

“We had sex.”

“Wait, at the party, at my parent's house... When? Where? You know what, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

Chris’ confusion was obvious by his rapid words, and the questions, looking at Ricky, Chris could probably figure it out, he’d spent enough time in that house, he’d grown up in that house. He’d hooked up with enough of his partners growing up in that house himself, so honestly, yeah, he could figure it out, didn’t mean he wanted to. The real confusion came with the fact that he’d been having coffee with Talia for the last few days, and she hadn’t said anything about talking to Ricky, about having anything to do with him, which made him think that that interaction and it was not sitting well with him as the reality was sinking in what had happened.

“Let me guess, it didn’t end well. You two fucked, and then you what, ran, or blew her off, or something.”

Rick looked away, his stomach in knots with how easily Chris hit the nail on the head, his voice taking that tone he knew well, and the look in his eyes though, it burned there, as much as Chris was an easygoing guy, there was anger in him when it came to respecting women, and Rick could tell that he was pissed, pissed on behalf of Talia and Rick knew it, and he didn’t blame him. He’d been a fucking asshole just walking away from her like that, no matter what had happened between them. Seeing the two together, it was so clear they’d struck up a friendship, and Rick tried desperately not to think about the sting of how easy it had looked for the two of them together. How happy they had been. The pain in his neck however wasn’t as bad as when he saw it right in front of him.

“Something like that, yeah, I just, I told her it would never happen again, and left her there.”

No, he wasn’t going to say anything about how his soulmate tattoo had been affecting him ever since, how seeing her with Chris had made it flare up when he’d gotten angry, that he just, no, he didn’t tell him that. It sounded insane, more insane than hooking up with her randomly in the guest bathroom of one of his best friend's parents' houses.

Chris looked at him, his face was stone and yeah, he was pissed at Rick, he was his best friend, and dammit, he was completely fucking up with an amazing woman, and if she wasn’t Ricky’s soulmate, he might for the first time in a long time, actually consider dating again. He let out an aggravated sigh, standing straighter, he just left her there. For the love of… that explained why Ava had been so disheartened when Talia had gone home early, feeling sick. Feeling sick, his ass. Made more sense now. Looking at the way Rick was sitting at the dining table, Chris nodded, standing from the table himself,

“Stand up, now.”

“What?”

“Fucking hell Ricky, you either stand up and take me punching you like the fucking asshole you're acting like, or I get Ava on the phone and she-”

Ricky had his mug of coffee down on the counter and standing straight waiting for the punch even before Chris pointed out that the younger man would probably end up castrated before the end of the day. They both knew it, neither of them even wanted to think about it, mess with Talia, and Ava would fuck you over, and Chris, hearing some of the things Talia said, he knew it went both ways.

He flinched when Chris picked up his fist, which just made the crunch when the punch connected to his cheek hurt even more.

“Fuck, Chris! Shit, man.”

The taller man just shrugged, shaking out his hand and stretching his fingers, it was better than hitting out of anger, getting into a fight out of anger, and it could get bad, he was well aware. Chris didn’t want to go down that path, least of all with Ricky, as much of a shit he was acting like, he cared about him too much, he loved him, he was just so fucking out of his head right now.

“You deserved it. Now. Richard Olson, you’re going to listen to me this time, I don’t care if it's in person, or over the damn phone, but you are going to have a civil conversation with that woman. Talk to her. A real conversation, Rick, not just fucking, no matter the temptation.”

This time he didn’t care if Ricky liked him telling him this, he hadn’t liked his suggestions before, but this time, this time he was pushing it, it was getting ridiculous, sex in his parent's house, during the barbecue, really Rick? Not that Talia was bad-looking, if she wasn’t Rick’s- no, no he wasn’t going there, it wasn’t his place, he knew it wasn’t his place. Of course, talking to Talia wasn’t going to fix everything, but he’d figure some other things out. As it was, he kept going with Ricky,

“You never know, you might like her, she’s an amazing woman, Rick, we’ve been having coffee for a few days now. I think you’d like her if you gave her a chance.”

Rick’s whole body went tense hearing how fondly Chris spoke of Talia, the smile he got on his face when he said she was an amazing woman. There was no way he could admit to the way his soulmate tattoo burned something awful with the irrational anger that ripped through him as he picked up his coffee to drink, distraction, he needed a distraction so he didn’t hit his friend for talking about her like that. It was bad enough that he could barely see Vinny lately without risking running into Talia while she was staying at his house, but now this? He missed hanging out with Chris too, and she wasn’t just worming her way everywhere in his life, but now under his skin, how the fuck did he dig her out?

Talia didn’t bother with an Uber today, having found her way around town enough, she enjoyed walking. She did a lot back home too, and today she felt comfortable enough that she had decided to walk back to Vinny’s on her own two feet. Walking gave her time to clear her head every day, and while today had felt like a good day, something felt off, she couldn’t quite place why. Chris had seemed a bit preoccupied before he left, not to mention, through their time having coffee, a part of her wondered if she was being stupid going for coffee with him at all.

He was one of Rick’s friends, but at the same time, he was one of Vinny’s friends too, and it could affect Ava’s situation. It was complicated. Chris was an attractive man. Any other situation, maybe these afternoons having coffee, and she might be working up asking him out on a date. He was funny, smart, great taste in music, and yet, being around him would draw her even closer to Rick, and that thought was even more painful and treacherous for her heart. Not that being friends with Chris was horrible, considering she had no intention of abandoning Ava here alone. They could be friends, she wanted to be friends.

As she was walking, she was about halfway down Vinny’s street, well aware of his address now, since the party she committed the address to memory, and saved it permanently in her phone. She was not going to be caught without it, no chance. Not that it mattered now she was learning her way around, which was good if she planned to come back here, and considering Vinny was now such a big part of Ava’s life, she would, she could promise you that. It wasn’t that far from Vinny’s house when she felt a surge of heat through her soulmate tattoo again, her neck just suddenly burning up out of nowhere. She’d felt it a little at the café, just for a moment, but it had calmed down quickly, but not this bad though, this time made her cry out, her hand moving to her neck, fingers curving around it.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened this week, the tattoo flaring up, not that it was always painful sometimes, it felt good sometimes too. Oh, oh, it felt wonderful, the kind of good like it had felt in the bathroom when she was Rick. Something was happening, and she didn’t know what was going on, and it was making her head completely spin around. Whether she was thinking about him, or feeling her mark react… it certainly made her think about him… something, something was happening. What was she supposed to do?

Who was she supposed to talk to? Was this normal? She’d never heard of a soulmate tattoo doing this. She had a feeling if Jordan and Kyle’s tattoo had done this, they’d have said something, right? Or if Ava and Vinny’s tattoos were reacting the same way.. Right, right?

Dammit.

Maybe she was finally going insane. All these years, all the years of her family thinking she was a little bit off her rocker thinking she was soulmates with a famous musician and fighting to just be accepted… and maybe after everything that had happened with Ricky now, she’d finally just, broken.

Made sense.

This all started happening when she finally met him. Maybe she’d just finally snapped.

“Congrats, Talia, you made it. Welcome to around the bend.”

Rubbing her neck, the pain seemed to have calmed down, but that didn’t change the reality of what was happening, of what her soulmate tattoo was telling her, whatever it was that it was telling her. She was feeling phantom pain, and yes, phantom arousing moments… the latter was not so bad, but the fact that it came out of nowhere, well…

Sighing, maybe when she went home she’d see about finding one of those therapists that specialised in soulmate bonds, broken ones. She’d talk to Ava, but it felt like it would just be something that could drag her down with Vinny. Sure she was here for support, but with her not soulmate connection with Ricky, she just felt like it was more pressure, and it was such a horrible feeling like she was nothing but a dead weight to her best friend’s relationship.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[fandoms-in-law]

How I'll Play

Summary: Steve's grandmother sends him an investment and big collection of gifts for his 21st. Small thing is, She thinks he's her Granddaughter.

Authors Notes: Playing with the idea I had yesterday over Steve liking Sylvanian Families and only playing D&D with them, Thanks to @frostfairysteve for the information on when they came out. (also for the fact I know those 2 D&D races XD)

Continued in Come Play With Us

/\/\

Steve family are all rich and all distant. He remembered once as a child a family reunion being arranged and being scared of all the strangers there. Apparently his father had 3 brothers all older and all with their own families, but also his grandparents had invited second cousins and cousins once removed and for whatever reason everyone had made time for it.

Looking back at the event now, Steve was pretty sure the main reason everyone turned up was that they were hopeful this could be a chance to increase the inheritance they could get from his grandparents. He doubted that would have been effective for anyone and is relatively sure that except for occasional cards on holidays and birthdays still considered most of his relatives as strangers.

It did encourage him not to have too much fun when taking himself to a city for a weekend away, simply because he didn't want to accidentally seduce a relative into a one night stand without knowing it. The joys of things that teach safe sex for the strangest reasons.

He didn't usually think about his family beyond that. They were just people who shared in his gene pool, just like the parents he barely saw any more.

Except his Grandmother seemed to challenge that when his twenty-first birthday came bringing a delivery with a note from her.

'Dear Steven,

I cannot recall why your mother decided on such a name for such a charming girl as you were at the family reunion so many years ago, but for all my grandchildren I've brought investments in a company as well as a large collection of the things they make as they turn 21.

For you, and your fascination with figurines and dolls that I remember, I chose to invest in Sylvanian Families. They're almost as adorable as you were when young.

A very happy birthday to you and remember to manage your investments wisely.

Your Grandmother,

Antoinette Harrington

He had to read the note 3 times before bursting into laughter. He knew his family was distant, but apparently they're distant enough to have changed his gender in their memories, although he does recall for a short time enjoying dolls before his father dictated otherwise and forbid him from them.

It had only been recently, and only around Robin, that he'd began allowing himself to be curious over typically feminine things beyond his hair since that time, but it was flattering to think that somehow he'd acted feminine enough the only time he'd met his grandparents that he was remembered as such.

“Steve? You remember we said we'd go shopping together for birthday looks for tonight, right?” Robin asked, letting herself in since he was laughing enough he hadn't heard her knocks. Steve had tried to insist he could pick her up, but according to her, he shouldn't be driving everyone around on his birthday, so she got Eddie to agree to play chauffeur for the day.

“Read this and tell me I'm not imagining things, Robbie. Please tell me I didn't misread that. Also I need to see just what is in these packages before I go anywhere.” Steve grinned over at her, waving at Eddie as he leant around the door.

Eddie came over too, leaning over Robin's shoulder as she read since Steve hurried into the kitchen for scissors to open the parcels.

There were 4 big parcels but as he got the boxes open only 2 of them had big items in them, what appeared to be dolls houses and furniture. The rest were filled with solid dolls, slightly velveted of every kind of animal he could think of, all in families, or separate babies that matched one of the family groups and dressed in adorable slightly old fashioned looking outfits.

“You're her granddaughter now. I'm sorry Stevie, but for a gift this big and the investment that was also in the envelope behind this is big, you have to be female from now on.” Robin teased, snickering herself and sitting on the floor beside him to see everything he was pulling out.

Steve shrugged a little. “You tell me what dress size I should get and I'll be the belle of the ball for the party Joyce is insisting on throwing.”

“How long ago was this reunion? Any you're happy about that?” Eddie asked, visibly stunned, but not annoyed or any reaction that left Steve concerned.

“Thrilled. Robbie and I have been trying make-up looks and I was already wondering if I should try a skirt tonight. This seems like a sign that I definitely should.” Steve grinned up, answering the second question first. “And I honestly don't know. I think I was maybe five, possibly younger. Definitely wasn't allowed dolls for too long before my father banned them.”

Eddie shook his head, coming to sit beside him too finally, “Cool, I'll kill the boys characters in the next session if anyone says anything about that. If you do get a dress, that is.”

Steve's grin gentled to a smile, before a thought struck him at the allusion to D&D. He'd seen their figurines before, had let them host Hellfire at his home a few times now, enough even Eddie's bandmates were beginning to relax and suddenly thought he wouldn't might playing in a similar way with these cute guys. “Hey, you can get animals walking and talking in D&D, right?”

For a moment Robin and Eddie blinked at him, then Robin started cackling. “I bet even if they don't Eddie is about to figure out how to, Stevie! Hell, I'm joining in too.”

Eddie blinked at her too before slowly nodding, “Normally called other things, like Procyons and Avalis but yes, there are bipedal intelligent animals in D&D.”

“Tell the party to start making characters like that to play and help me and Bobbin to do so if you want me to play a campaign. I'll only play if these are the figurines used for everyone.” Steve decided, “And look, you even have sets for places we can go to make the mapping even more exciting.” He gestured to the buildings, and some shop sets that he'd pulled out of the packages but hadn't opened unlike a few of the families that had caught his eye.

“Fucking Hell, Yes! I can do that! Can I stay here to plan the campaign too, check what I've got to work with?” Eddie's smile grew slowly but was soon almost wider than they'd seen it before.

Steve nodded, “Definitely. And this just means we're all more excited for getting back from the shopping trip I was promised. I'll go get ready to head out.”

As he walked away Robin started to calm down but one look at the pout Eddie had over being told he couldn't jump straight into planning set her off laughing uncontrollably all over again.