#they took away her mom they took away her connection to the world

[whenthegoldrays]

🍉

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[marvelandponder]

one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.

we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty

for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough

what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale

look again

this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her

Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her

he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay

then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)

the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy

but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D

because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether

but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change

Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)

But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her

because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself

and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.

hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead."

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. A stance you've made very clear you take." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. Something that you found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined your homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses; you'd seen the young man in the outdated suit, and the modest, Sally Olsson lookalike, and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, a gentle rumble, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway you happened to be in. Having him interact with you, intentionally, made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your mother had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Ms. Fields' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be white-knuckle hard, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's steadfast determination and his refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |12|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Language, Crime Scene, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped back into the hall. She understood where her sister was coming from, hell, she couldn’t even blame Tara. Sam would probably tell herself she was a danger and to stay away as well. She knew it wasn’t completely rational, but there was an officer right outside Tara’s room, another down the hall, and another in the lobby. There was no reason to think Tara would be in danger unless she was with Sam herself or with you.

Ghostface attacked Tara to draw Sam back to town and it worked. He then attacked you when he knew you’d be away from everyone else. So far, Ghostface’s plan has worked perfectly. This Ghostface knew who Sam’s father was, it took her reading her mom’s old diary to learn that and yet, this monster somehow found out. Then there was you, you were the daughter of Gale Weathers and Dewey Riley, Ghostface learned that before even you did. Ghostface somehow learned Gale had a child, and that child grew up to be you.

Sam knew every previous Ghostface was a part of the friend group, and the killings always went back to the very beginning. This all seemed like a lot for one of Tara's friends to plan though. Whoever did this would have had to do their research; they would have had to have connections. Gale did everything in secret with you, she even left you outside the hospital to remain anonymous, Sam couldn’t even begin to imagine how Ghostface learned that information, if they specifically went searching for some reason or they got lucky and dug from there.

You might not believe it, considering you were at the top of everyone’s suspect list, but you weren’t even on Sam’s list, not anymore. After watching you and Tara together she saw how much you loved her sister, you would literally die before you let anything happen to her, there was no way you’d ever hurt her. What really sold her was your reaction to hearing the truth, like she told Tara, you’d have to be one hell of an actor to sell that. You looked exactly how Sam felt all those years ago, your world shattering before your eyes.

Sam felt for you, she truly did. Learning her dad wasn’t her dad and her real dad was in fact a serial killer definitely sucked, it was something she’d be dealing with in therapy probably for the rest of her life. Despite all that though for the first half of her life she had a loving family, everything was perfect. You never had any of that though, you grew up knowing your family didn’t want you, you grew up alone. The only person you seemed to truly have in your life was Tara. Sam sighed; she asked you to stay away from Tara.

“You, okay?” Richie asked. Sam didn’t have time to stew in her guilt for long as she came back to reality, seeing Richie in front of her, watching her with concern all over his face.

Sam nodded, she looked around, the same officer was still outside Tara’s room, typing away on his phone. Judy was down the hall talking to another officer and pointing to your room. All of Tara’s friends had left though, just as she asked. Part of Sam wondered if she should do the same and just come back in the morning, so far, every time she visited Tara, she seemed to be making things worse.

“Want to go back to the motel?” Richie asked, giving her an awkward smile. “You need to rest, today was a lot,” he reached up and gave her arm a comforting rub.

Sam gave him a sad smile and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. Maybe she just needed a break, she just needed to go and sleep in an actual bed, her mind might be more at ease staying at the hospital, but she didn’t think she’d get much sleep in the waiting room chairs.

She followed Richie out of the hospital. “I’ll grab the car,” he whispered before running off across the parking lot.

Sam bounced up and down on her feet outside the hospital. She tried to ignore the fact that Dewey and Gale were clearly arguing a few feet away from her.

“You kept our daughter from me!” Dewey tried to shout but his voice ended up cracking. “Our daughter.”

“I know, I know,” Gale said. She reached out for Dewey, but he stepped away. Sam really was trying not to eavesdrop; she just couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not enough. I don’t know what else to say.”

“There’s nothing to say!” Dewey gestured widely. “I knew your career was important to you but why didn’t you say something? Out of all the ways…” he shook his head. “Why didn’t you just leave her with me?”

Gale opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I was scared.” Dewey shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear this excuse. “We had just broken up; I was in New York.”

“But you came back to town, you left her here, you-you-,” he gripped at his hair. “We could have figured something out.”

“Let me make this right,” Gale whispered, stepping closer.

Dewey looked at Gale long and hard for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not sure you can.” With that he walked off, leaving Gale to stand there crying alone.

Sam let out a relieved breath when she saw Richie pull up. She ran to the car as quickly as she could. She had enough going on at the moment, the last thing she wanted was to get caught up in your apparent family drama. She couldn’t blame you or Dewey though, Sam couldn’t even forgive her own mother for keeping her birth father a secret, she didn’t see how you or Dewey could ever forgive Gale.

Sam rested her arm on the door and her head in her hand, she stared out the window as Richie drove them to the motel. Sam had picked out the motel, it was one of the only ones in town, and she had yet to even enter the room.

“And we’ve arrived,” Richie said, breaking Sam out of her trance.

She got out of the car and followed Richie to the door. Richie opened the door, doing a little wave with his hand as he gestured inside the room. Sam smiled at his theatrics but as soon as she got to the doorway she stopped. “What’s wrong?” Richie asked.

“You know, I think I need to clear my head,” Sam said, stepping back. “I’m going to go for a drive.”

“Want me to come?”

Sam shook her head. “I think I just need some time alone.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “I won’t be too long.” She leaned forward, giving Richie a quick kiss before plucking the keys from his hands.

“Okay,” Richie said before entering the room.

Sam got in the driver’s seat of the car. She stared at the motel building in front of her, her body was absolutely exhausted, the only thing calling her name was the crappy bed she knew was inside. Her mind was going a mile a minute though, she knew she’d never be able to rest like this, she just needed to clear her head. She started the car and slowly began to back out of the parking space and turn back onto the main road.

Sam drove around aimlessly, despite growing up in the town she didn’t have a destination in mind, she just kept turning at a stop sign. She furrowed her brow when she saw blue lights flashing up ahead. She looked around, her heart picking up slightly when she realized what street she was on exactly. She pulled over on the side of the road, away from the emergency vehicles. She rushed across the street, her eyes frantically searching for a familiar face, specifically one she was desperate to see safe and sound.

There were already several police cruisers and an ambulance at the house, officers had even already taped up the scene. It hadn’t been too long since everyone left the hospital, when Sam left Judy was still there. Whatever happened had to have just occurred, the quick response of the authorities did nothing to ease Sam’s anxieties.

Sam began to go under the police tape when an officer appeared in front of her. “Sorry ma’am, this is an active crime scene,” he said, holding up his hand.

“What happened?” Sam asked, trying to see around the officer.

Sam’s eyes landed on a yellow tarp being placed over a body on the front porch. “The sheriff.”

Sam’s eyed widened, she had just been with the sheriff, Mindy said the sequel characters, as she liked to call them, didn’t matter, there was no reason for anyone to think Judy would be attacked, besides, she was the sheriff, that wasn’t an easy person to go after.

“What about her son? Sam asked, her eyes instantly scanning for him. “Wes, please, I’m a friend.” Wes only had his mom; she couldn’t imagine him witnessing this or discovering her body.

When Sam looked up, meeting the cops' eyes for the first time, she saw it on his face, she knew what his next words would be. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He turned to walk back across the lawn, back to the crime scene.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. She was just with Wes, he wasn’t supposed to be a target, there was no reason for him to be a target. Mindy was naïve enough to believe this Ghostface was only going after those connected to the first set of killings and Sam was stupid enough to believe it. Judy might not have liked Sam but without her around, the investigation would slow down even more, everyone would be more concerned with the sheriff's death than actually stopping Ghostface.

“I can’t believe you,” Sam heard a man say. She turned to see Gale Weathers walking across the sidewalk, speedily in her heels away from a news van. Dewey was trailing after her, clearly unhappy with whatever Gale was doing or about to do.

“This was the only way to come,” Gale snapped, spinning around to glare at Dewey.

“Oh, was our secret daughter being in danger not enough for you?” Dewey whispered harshly.

“I didn’t report at the hospital. I would never do that to her,” her voice cracked.

Dewey let out a humorless chuckle. “Gale Weathers putting someone else before her career? Guess that makes you mother of the year.” Dewey brushed past her, not waiting for her to say anything.

While Dewey began to talk to one of the officers close by, Sam watched as Gale ran her hands down her blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles. When Gale turned around Sam couldn’t even tell Dewey’s words had affected her, she kept her face completely neutral as she walked to a spot in front of the police tape. The only indication that Dewey’s words hit her was the way she gripped the microphone in her hands. When her camera man popped up, propping the camera on his shoulder as he pointed at her to begin, she fell right into reporter mode. She smiled at the camera and began to recount the recent Ghostface killings, effortlessly leading into the latest attack on Judy and Wes.

“Hey!” Sam shouted when she caught sight of a familiar officer. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She shouted again, finally getting officer Vincent to look at her.

“I heard the call about the sheriff,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Who’s guarding my sister?”

“All hands-on deck,” he shrugged and made his way over to the sheriff's body and the other officers.

Sam let out a frustrated groan, she knew the murder of the sheriff was top priority, but she couldn’t believe that cop left his position. Deputy Vincent had orders to protect Tara, he clearly wasn’t doing that, Sam highly doubted he could bring something new to the table that the other officers couldn’t. Sam’s eyes widened when she realized the cop who had been guarding her sister’s door was now standing across the lawn, nowhere near the hospital.

Sam didn’t hesitate to take off back towards her car. “Where are you going?” Dewey shouted after her.

“My sister is in danger!” Sam shouted back; she didn’t have time to waste. She told you to stay away from Tara, she herself left the hospital, now the one person ordered to protect Tara was also gone, there was literally no one standing between Tara and Ghostface coming after her.

Sam didn’t know shit about the movies, she didn’t know how any of this was actually supposed to work. What she did know though was that whoever was doing this was trying to hurt Sam for some reason and now that her sister was defenseless the easiest way to hurt Sam would be to go after Tara again. Ghostface let Tara live the first time, that was just to draw Sam back to town though, there was no way he’d let her live the second time.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked when she saw Dewey running after her.

“Figured you could use backup,” Dewey sighed, though he didn’t seem thrilled about most likely running straight into the line of fire.

“You don’t need to stay?” Sam flicked a glance across the way where Gale stood, talking to her camera man as she gestured behind her, talking about the crime scene.

“This isn’t where I’m needed,” is all Dewey said.

Sam didn’t waste anymore time before she jumped in the car, quickly starting it, she barely checked her mirrors as she whipped back out onto the road. She ignored the way Dewey groaned, his hands flailing to grasp the handle on the door as he was flung back against the seat.

With one hand Sam whipped out her phone, quickly tapping on Richie’s contact. “Hey,” Richie greeted after a few rings.

“Get to the hospital,” Sam said quickly.

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

“I think Tara’s in danger.”

There was a long pause, Sam wondered if she somehow had lost him. “You want me to go to the hospital where a psycho killer might be?” She could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Richie, please,” Sam begged.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

“We’ll meet you there.” Sam made an abrupt right turn, letting her phone fly out of her hand and into Dewey’s lap.

Dewey let out a groan and held out the phone to Sam. “Sorry,” she whispered. She quickly took the phone back, scrolling through the contacts until she found the one she wanted.

“Now, who are you calling?” Dewey asked.

“Y/N,” Sam answered instantly. Dewey furrowed his brow; he opened his mouth to say something else but before he could Sam heard the little click indicating someone had picked up. “Y/N,” she practically screamed into the phone.

“Too what do I owe the displeasure Samantha?” you asked, clearly still pissed at her.

Sam couldn’t blame you; she couldn’t even be bothered to care you called her Samantha, there were more important matters at hand. “Ghostface is going after Tara.”

“What?” You instantly got serious. “How do you know?” It sounded like you were shuffling around.

“Judy’s dead.” There was silence on the other end, Sam couldn’t even hear you moving around anymore. “Wes too.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“He’s going after Tara.” Sam let out a shaky breath, she knew how hypocritical she was, she told you to stay away from Tara because you were going to put her in danger and now, she was calling you, her only hope at protecting Tara. “Look I’m-”

“He’s not laying a fucking hand on her,” you cut her off. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her phone, your voice had gotten much darker, she really wouldn’t want to be Ghostface at the moment.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Whatever,” with that you hung up.

Sam blinked away a few tears, you were there, Tara would be fine. She didn’t miss the way Dewey was glancing at her. “I told her to stay away from Tara,” Sam whispered.

“And yet she was the one you called,” he said.

“I knew she’d ignore me,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle.

“She really loves her,” Dewey whispered more to himself.

Sam spared a quick glance at Dewey. He was slumped in the seat, staring out the windshield but at nothing in particular. Sam couldn’t imagine what he must be going through, his wife, ex-wife, love of his life, never told him they had a daughter together. Sam might not have known Dewey all too well, but she knew he was a good man. He and you were robbed of getting to be a family. He was robbed of getting to be a father and you were robbed of getting a loving father.

Sam nodded. “She’s very protective,” Sam said quietly. “She won’t let anyone, no matter who they are,” She smiled to herself, remembering how you got with her when it came to Tara, you didn’t care she was Tara’s older sister, your only priority was making sure Tara was okay, “hurt someone she loves.”

Sam caught the small, yet sad, smile on Dewey’s face. Sam whipped the wheel, making another sharp turn. Everything was going to be fine, you were with Tara, you would protect her, and she and Dewey were on the way, no one else was going to die today.

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Phoebe and Trevor x Gary Grooberson’s teen kid reader and adjusting to being stepsiblings?

OH MY GOD YES BRO RJSKDMSNSN ; I did my best pls bare w this 💀💀💀

SPENGLER SIBLINGS ; stepsiblings

summary ; youre Gary's kid and you have to adjust with two new stepsiblings

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; your mom is nonexistent/Gary adopted you. it's not a topic brought up at all I don't think but you can choose, ik some people don't like kid of ___ reader or ____ sibling reader so beware lol, takes place between afterlife and frozen empire so no spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched gbfe yet, reader can drive/is around Trevor's age

word count ; 675

masterlist

it's so awkward at first

especially since you've never had siblings before so it's like they're teenage roommates

like okay your parents are dating or whatever but like, ew?

except you're living with them, not the other way around

both gary and callie are trying to urge you to interact but it's just not happening

you're not really a ghostbuster either, you aren't smart in the sciences and aren't into the whole ghost thing anyways

you're more into traditional ghosts anyways, not the ones that show up in broad daylight and need to be trapped by proton barriers

it's very rough at first

you connect with phoebe first, as a once in a blue moon experience happened, she wanted to act like a normal 14yo and go get ice cream

Callie couldn't take her because she was busy helping trevor with work stuff and told her to ask you

she was like 🤨 and like... "okay?-"

she asks and you look at her like 🤨😊

you guys go get ice cream and she tells you all about the shit you pass on the way there and back home

you surprisingly end up bonding over the struggle of talking to others like normal people and being well reserved with little to no friends

then comes the bonding over a certain book you both liked

the whole car ride home is oasis on the radio and chatter about this book, and going the longest possible way home because you didn't want this bonding moment to end

you sat in the car after phoebe got out, just sitting in silence

you were kind of in awe yet saddened the moment had ended because you were bonding so well

after that she clearly sees you in a new light and looks to you for your wisdom and clear view of the world when she's wrapped in her own madness and needs untangled

you were the trusting older sibling she needed since trevor never really understood the proper being there for your sister thing

they're proper siblings and whatnot but it's not like they go to each other if it's not to shit talk people

you're like their mediator and therapist sibling

getting through to trevor was much harder

you ended up finding him a job and he was like 🤨😒 when you showed him

"oh- uhm, sorry. I was just trying to be nice" and you quickly scramble away

he's just confused cause like ??? you never talked, he didn't even know how you knew he was looking for a job

he comes into your room a couple hours later like "Hey sorry I acted all weird, thanks"

and that's it

bonding with him is so hard, and Gary and Callie are like "okay go fucking do something"

you're all (spengler-groobersons + podcast bc phoebe needed a friend her age) out at an amusement park, and these mfs ditched yall at the carousel next to the bathrooms

and they weren't picking up their phones

you were basically forced to interact now, which was much less awkward in an amusement park

you guys ride some rides and get some food as you frequently call your parents

you finally find them, phew

but you two obviously made a little friendship and had fun together

took a little longer to get used to each other but you're fine now

awkward teenager shit yk?

in general, the three of you now are super close

trevor is your hype man when it comes to talking to people or doing something out of your comfort zone

phoebe is your hype man when you talk to her about maybe wanting to be a ghostbuster / study ghosts

you're the driver for the three of you, callie doesn't trust Trevor with driving, considering how he was driving the ecto1 when he first got it usable again, and obviously, phoebe can't drive

after a few years you're basically just like normal siblings

you three have a sibling group chat and it's 90% you sending memes, Trevor sending random tik tok links and phoebe begging you two to stop blowing up her phone

spenglerson siblings 🔛🔝

[not-another-leon-blog]

Family Matters

DI! Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Death Island Spoilers!

Summary– The kids are exposed to the evils of the world. Word count: 3746 D/n– Daughter's name S/n– Son's name Sequels: Aftermath / Out Together

You woke to the sound of quiet sniffling. Someone was shaking you, almost begging you to wake up. Your eyes opened, your vision fuzzy and your head feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“Mommy, wake up,” your daughter cried as she shook you. “Please, wake up.”

You groaned, reaching up to rub your eyes. Taking in your surroundings, you knew you were far from Los Angeles. Instead, you were surrounded by concrete walls and steel bars. This wasn’t the Walk of Fame, it was a prison.

“Mommy, I’m scared,” your daughter said, throwing herself in your arms.

“Don’t be scared,” said her twin brother confidently. “Dad’ll save us.” His pacing betrayed his confidence, not that his sister could tell with her face hidden in your shoulder. “Besides, Aunt Claire and Uncle Chris are here, too.”

“They are?” you asked. The fog in your head was starting to lift. “Chris? Claire?”

“We’re here,” Chris called. But he sounded weak, wounded. 

“Where exactly is ‘here’?”

“Alcatraz,” said Claire. If Chris sounded terrible, she sounded worse. Whatever was going on, you knew it was something the kids shouldn’t be a part of. “Jill’s here, too.” Somewhere." It only took a second for you to connect the dots. If they were all here, then surely Leon would be as well. 

You knew he had been on assignment in San Francisco so logically he couldn’t be too far away. It was supposed to be simple– a job he could complete in a day or so and then he would meet you and the kids in Los Angeles. How it turned into this…

We’re bait, you thought. It was a virtual guarantee. But how? All of your files had been secured and locked up; Leon had made sure of it. So how did you end up here? Why were you here?

D/n trembled in your arms and S/n was becoming more restless. Carefully, you lifted D/n with one arm and pushed yourself to your feet with the other. Reaching out to touch the bars, you gave them a firm shake. They didn’t budge.

“I gotta set you down, baby,” you said to D/n. She nodded hesitantly, going to her brother once she was out of your arms. She and S/n went to sit on the cot, holding each other’s hands. S/n’s leg bounced nervously.

You continued to examine the bars, looking for any kind of weakness. “So, what brought all of you to Alcatraz?” Might as well get an idea of what you were about to face if you were going to be stuck here.

“There were outbreaks in the city,” Chris said, his breathing heavy. “Found a connection to Alcatraz…”

That’s certainly one way to get him and Jill here, you thought. But what about Leon? How did his assignment connect to all of this?

“You kids okay?” Claire asked, taking a sharp breath.

“Okay,” S/n answered softly. 

You abandoned the bars and went to kneel in front of them. D/n’s face was blotchy with tears and she was wiping her nose with her sleeve. Soft hiccups rocked her little body. S/n, on the other hand, was still bouncing his leg and kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him. You took their hands and gave them a soft squeeze.

“We’ll be okay,” you assured them. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you, understand?” You looked each of them in the eye. “No one will touch you while I’m here.” D/n nodded and you reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Mom,” S/n said, but his attention wasn’t on you. It was on someone standing outside of the cell. A tall woman stood there, dressed in a shiny pink jumpsuit. You knew exactly who she was and suddenly it all made sense.

Like a switch had flipped, your attitude went from soft and caring to tough and protective. You stood and put yourself between her and the twins. “What do you want?” Your voice was sharp and stern.

“Your husband will pay for what he did to my father,” Maria replied.

“Yeah, I get that.” You took a step closer. “But they have no part in it. You want to use someone, use me. This isn’t their fight.”

“It became their fight when he murdered my father. They deserve to know what kind of monster theirs is.”

S/n jumped up from the cot and rushed against the bars, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. “Our Dad’s a hero!” he yelled. “You're the monster!” Maria hit the bars, scaring S/n away from them. But he only backed away enough to stand next to you and stared Maria down as she marched down the cell block.

D/n was crying again. S/n turned to her. “Dad’s gonna be here,” he assured her. “He’s gonna save us– just like he saved the girl in Spain!” He froze like a deer in headlights and glanced over at you.

“S/n Marvin Kennedy,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve been in your father’s office again, haven’t you?”

“No.” An obvious lie. There was no other way he would know about Spain and Leon would never talk about past missions with his kids. He never even really told him what his job was.

“We’re having a talk about that later.” He bowed his head and went to sit beside his sister again. “And I’m reminding Dad to change those locks, too.” S/n seemed to shrink more into himself. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “Dad… maybe… kinda taught me to pick locks.”

“Then get us out of here!” D/n yelled at him.

“I don’t have anything to use!”

Leon would certainly get a scolding for that. A sharp pain shot in your neck. A moment later your body felt weak and you leaned against the wall for support. In an instant, breathing began to get harder, too.

“Mommy?” D/n said through her sniffles.

“Y/n?” came Claire’s voice. Whatever had infected Claire and Chris had infected you, too. But how? Your mind raced. You were never bitten.

You groaned in pain, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. With what strength you could muster, you crawled back to the bars to put distance between you and the kids. D/n moved to go to you but S/n held her back. He knew something was wrong. He knew there was a reason you were moving away from them. At eight years old, you hated how perceptive he was.

Lights shone at the other end of the prison block. Footsteps came closer, echoing off the walls. You gripped the bars, trying to ready yourself to face Maria and whoever else she was working with.

“Leon?” Claire muttered softly.

The kids gasped and ran to the cell door. “Daddy!”

“Y/n? Kids?” Leon rushed to your cell, quickly holstering his gun. The kids reached their hands through the bars, trying to hug him as best as they could. He looked them over for any injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” S/n told him. “But Mom…”

The pain was getting worse. Your breaths had turned into short gasps. The twins let go of him and he turned to you, cupping your face in his hands. “Hey, handsome,” you breathed. 

“Long time, no see, sweetheart,” he replied, his blue eyes full of worry. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. We were going to the Walk of Fame and…” Then you gestured to the cell. “I’m sorry… I should’ve been… more careful.” Maybe you were starting to get rusty. Years ago you would’ve seen the ambush from a mile away.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Get us out of here!” another man’s voice cried, catching Leon’s attention. 

“Well, I’ll be,” Leon muttered as he craned his neck to see who spoke. There was no way in hell he was leaving his family’s side right now. “Antonio Taylor… I’ll deal with you later.”

The overhead lights turned on and the kids scrambled to your side. The light stung your eyes and a headache started to form at your temple. Leon shot up, pulling his gun from its holster and scanning the cell block. There at the second-story railing stood Maria and another man, his cane tapping rhythmically on the metal floor.

This new man introduced himself as Dylan Blake. “I bet you’re wondering how people are getting infected without being bit,” he said, proudly going on to describe his bio-drones: insects that could infect whomever Blake pleased. Your heart sank at this realization. It was only a matter of time before you turned. 

You tuned out whatever Blake continued to say, your attention on the kids. D/n was still shaking like a leaf against you, but her tears had stopped. S/n was on his knees in front of you. The pain was starting to become unbearable, and knowing what would happen if you turned… 

“There’s a reason I left you and Leon alone, Jill,” Blake continued. “You want to talk about justice? You should be pointing your guns at Claire and Y/n.” Leon spared a glance at you. You were pale and shivering and you were only getting worse. “They’ll turn soon enough and when they do, they’ll rip apart the doctor and those kids.”

“The kids have no part in this!” Leon snapped.

“They became part of it when you began to work for liars, people who cover up the truth. The ones continuously sending you into battle rather than staying home with your family.” Leon stiffened. You knew he felt guilty about being away from home so much. “Which will it be? Your wife or your kids? Better make your choice quick before she devours them.”

“Leon,” you called softly. With his gun still trained on Blake, he looked back at you. You nodded at him, but he shook his head. Shooting you wasn’t an option for him. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to shoot his children– he’d rather die than do that.

Soon enough Blake and Maria were gone and Leon was back by your side, D/n and S/n clinging to the arm he slid between the bars. “Babies,” he said, “I need you to get in that back corner. Can you do that for me?” They nodded and did as he said. His attention turned to you and he lowered his voice so they couldn’t hear. “Y/n, I’m not shooting you. The twins need you and I will not let them witness something like that.”

“I don’t want to hurt them,” you told him, tears welling in your eyes. “Leon, you have to.”

“No.” His voice was stern. “It’s not gonna happen. We’ll figure it out.”

You lifted your hand to gently trace the curve of his jaw, his stubble lightly scratching your skin. “I love you, Leon.” He held your hand against his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Daddy,” D/n called. “What’s gonna happen to Mommy?”

“Mommy’s going to be just fine,” he told her firmly. Leon felt like the worst father in the world. The last thing he had ever wanted was for his kids to be dragged into his work. He was sure that with Y/n at home, they’d be perfectly fine. He thought he’d taken every step necessary to keep his family safe. What had gone so wrong that they ended up here?

“Real father of the year,” he muttered under his breath.

“This… isn’t your… fault.” You curled in on yourself as pain shot through your body. You had the cell bars in a death grip as you attempted to maintain yourself. Something was brewing in your chest, something violent and bloody. You met Leon’s eyes, your tears finally falling. “Please…”

Just as he was about to reply, someone came running into the cell block. It was Rebecca with a hard-shelled case in her arms. “What’s that?” Leon asked, but he already knew the answer. He just needed to hear it to believe it.

“A vaccine,” Rebecca replied, popping the case open and handing him a syringe.

Leon couldn’t move fast enough. He uncapped the syringe and brushed your hair aside. “This might hurt, baby.” There was a sting in your neck as he injected the vaccine. Relief washed over you like a cool blanket and finally, you were able to catch your breath. As you composed yourself, Leon got to work on unlocking the door.

The door slid open and Leon enveloped you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. He pulled away and the two of you were nearly thrown over as the twins barreled into you. Leon held all three of you tight against his chest.

“I told you Dad would save us,” S/n said, his voice muffled against Leon’s shirt. Leon kissed the tops of their heads and pulled away just enough to look at all of you.

Whatever was in that vaccine worked wonders and by the time you were back on your feet, you felt good as new. “What now?” You couldn’t just take the kids and leave. There was no telling what was lurking in the halls. Taking them with Leon was risky– Blake wouldn’t give up easily. There was no doubt in your mind that there’d be a shootout at some point.

Leon kissed you again and handed you a spare gun. It wasn’t safe here with the bio-drones and he wasn’t about to let you go out and try to escape the island with two eight-year-olds. His only option was to try to keep you all in his sight and out of harm’s way. “Stay with me.” He turned to the twins. “You two,” S/n stood a bit straighter, “do exactly as I or your mother say. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

The four of you made your way to the armory. Leon took the lead with the twins behind him and you taking up the rear. Once you made it to the armory, Leon stopped and hugged the kids again. “I love you,” he said to them, “listen to Mom.”

“Where are you going?” D/n asked, gripping his shirt.

“I’m gonna stop the bad guys,” he replied. “Be good.” He stood and pecked your lips. “Get to the control room, you’ll be safe there.”

~~

The three of you reached the control room. The openness of the room didn’t bring you much comfort– there wasn’t any real place to hide the kids. The best you could do was keep them away from the windows.

You made sure the door was secure and turned to the kids, tucking your gun into your waistband as you kneeled in front of them. “How are you two doing?” The answer was obvious, but you wanted to hear them talk to you. You needed them to focus as best as they could and make sure that they understood how important their safety was.

“Aren’t you scared?” S/n asked. 

“I am,” you answered honestly. “And it’s okay to be.”

“So you and Daddy were doing this stuff when you met?” asked D/n in a small voice. She had calmed down but maintained a nearly bone-crushing grip on her brother’s hand. You knew that she had always wanted to picture a romantic meeting between you and Leon like the other girls’ parents at school, but the reality was not nearly as sweet.

“Yeah, sweetie–”

A monstrous roar cut you off and the twins screamed. You grabbed your gun and spun around to the window. A massive, mutated monster took up the expanse of the window, but it wasn’t focused on you. Still, you ushered the kids back into the wall farthest away and kept your gun trained on it.

A number of loud pops sounded from outside. Gunshots. The others must be down there. With the beast’s attention away from the window, you focused your attention on the door. Your grip on your gun tightened. The kids jumped and gasped behind you with each new explosion. Shielding them from watching those through the window would be near impossible.

Something smashed against the window, but the glass held strong. Barrels and boxes flew throughout the expanse of the armory. The ground shook beneath you and the groans of crashing metal echoed in your ears.

The door burst open, scaring the kids and startling you. It was Claire and Rebecca.

“What is that thing!?” D/n yelled.

The two stopped short, unsure of how to answer her. Claire recovered first. “That’s the bad guy.”

“That’s the bad guy!?” S/n repeated. He tugged on your shirt. “You have to go help Dad!”

“I need to keep you two safe.” As much as you wanted to go help, you and Leon had talked long ago about situations like this. Situations you had hoped and prayed would never come to pass and a discussion that led to your retiring from the D.S.O.

Only one of you would actively fight. The other would stay with the kids no matter what. That way if something happened to the other, the twins would still have at least one parent.

“What are you doing?” D/n asked as Claire and Rebecca rushed to the main computer.

“We,” Rebecca started as her hands moved across the keys, “are gonna stop a bunch of bugs.”

~~

As the gunshots rang and rockets exploded, Leon kept watch on the windows of the control room. Leading the creature, formerly Dylan Blake, away from those windows was his top priority (aside from killing it, of course).

At least with Maria dead, he didn’t have to worry about someone else going after you and the twins. And even if she were still alive, you’d give her hell for doing this to your family.

“Just a heads up,” Chris said as they put together a massive rocket launcher, “the missus is gonna have a word with you about teaching S/n to pick locks.” He grunted as they slid the two pieces of the weapon together.

Leon grinned. He knew that would come back to bite him one day. Hell, he was looking forward to your scolding. “I’d be surprised if she didn’t.” He lifted the front of the launcher up on his shoulder while Chris steadied it from behind. “A little lower.” Chris kneeled down a bit more, letting Leon get a higher angle.

The creature had jumped into the water after Jill and was now trying to make for open waters. Leon aimed for the gate's pulley system. With only one shot, he needed to make this count.

Another second passed as he steadied the launcher and pulled the trigger.

The rocket flew from the barrel, jolting him and Chris as it flew to the gate. The rocket exploded on impact, and the gate dropped. It crashed into the water and a moment later another explosion erupted. Blood stained the water and pieces of Blake's mutated carcass rained down.

Leon eyed the water nervously, searching for any movement that could indicate that somehow the bastard survived. When nothing aside from a massive corpse floated to the surface, he sighed in relief.

He barely had a moment to relax before he was knocked over. It wasn't often that his kids caught him off guard, but here they were, piled on top of him and hugging him so tight he could barely breathe. Well, if he were to die, being smothered by his childrens' affection didn’t seem like such a bad option to him.

Once he’d regained his bearings, he hugged them equally as tight, enough to make them groan and try to push away from him (which in turn made him squeeze just a bit harder). He turned his head to see you approaching, a soft smile on your face. “Care to join in on this?”

“He’s crushing us!” S/n squealed.

“Am not,” Leon huffed.

“Are too!”

He let the twins go and sat up. D/n stayed in his lap and S/n sat beside him. At that moment, there was no denying that S/n was his son. He was almost a carbon copy of his father. The scene almost made you forget about everything that had just happened.

You could still feel a faint throbbing where Blake’s drone had stung you, an eerie reminder of what could have been if Rebecca hadn’t shown up when she did.

“Can we go home now?” D/n asked.

~~

While waiting for the evacuation helicopters, the twins had taken to bombarding Claire and Rebecca with questions, giving you a brief moment alone with your husband.

“You know we’re not sleeping alone for a good while.” 

“I know.” He watched as S/n turned his attention to Chris, climbing up on the man’s shoulders. Where other parents might dread the thought of having their bed invaded, Leon welcomed it. He’d rather have them running to him in the dead of night than deal with nightmares on their own.

“We should’ve just stayed in D.C.,” you mumbled, leaning against Leon as he wrapped an arm around you. Maybe if you and the kids had stayed home they would have been spared the terror of being kidnapped and threatened.

Leon shook his head. “Maria would’ve found a way.” Of that, he was certain. If there was anyway to guarantee his suffering, targeting his family was a sure way to do it. “We’ll take a real vacation after this.”

“D/n has been begging to go to Disney.” You sighed. “We can’t hide this stuff from them anymore.” That was perhaps the worst of it. You and Leon had gone to great lengths to shield them from the reality of Leon’s work.

The two of you watched the twins. Chris was still carrying S/n on his shoulders and at some point D/n had managed to steal Claire’s red jacket. Soon, they came running back, wedging themselves between you.

D/n pointed toward the horizon. “Are those the helicopters?”

“They sure are,” Leon replied as he smoothed her hair.

S/n tugged on Leon’s shirt and flashed his best set of puppy eyes. “Can I have the window seat?”

[leaderwon]

HATE THAT...

chapter 33 — bridal style

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

warnings : mentions of drinking

luna's diary : so Jake might figure it out 👀

prev — masterlist — next

A sound of something dropping on the floor woke you up from you slumber. You had no recollection of the events from last night or how you even got to your bed. Your wish to sleep longer was interrupted by you becoming hyper aware of your surroundings.

Your bed felt way too hard, and there was way too much noise considering you lived alone. Opening your eyes you were hit with a bright light coming from the open curtains a few feet away from you.

Looking around you realised this wasn't your apartment, It was Jake's shared apartment with his friends. You wondered how you landed up here out of all places.

"Jake?" You said looking up at him from the ground you were on. "What the fuck happened to you" Jake said as he got out of his car.

You looked up at him and giggled taking a sip from your bottle. "You're drunk" He said sighing. "No I'm not" you argued.

You were about to take a sip from your bottle again when Jake snatched the bottle from your hands. "Hey give it back, it's mine" You whined. "No more drinking for you" He said glaring at you.

He took a notice of your physical state. Tear stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes and messed up hair. Your hair was wet and you reeked of alcohol.

"Let's get you home" He said as he helped you up and led you towards his car. "No i like it here" You replied back stopping him from coming near you. "It's not safe though y/n" Jake tried arguing with you.

"Since when did you care about my safety? Ever since Iseul's back your world has been revolving around her. She even convinced you to go against me" You replied rage evident in your voice.

You're right, since when did he care about you at all?

He thought of leaving you there to fend for yourself choosing his hatred win over his moral values and common sense when his soulmate mark started burning reminding him of your connection with him.

He mumbled a few insults before tucking his arms below your knees and wrapping his other arm around your back as he picked you up in bridal style.

"Where are you taking me?" you questioned trying to get out of the grip he had on you. "Just shut up and don't make things harder than it already is" He replied placing you on the passenger seat.

"I went to your dorm last night to find out that you moved, i didn't know where to take you so I got you here" you snapped out of your thoughts as you saw Jake make his way towards you with soup in his hand.

"Mom's recipe, drink up" He said handing you the soup. "No, I'm good. Thanks for taking care of me" you got up ignoring the throbbing pain in your head, grabbing your jacket and now fully charged phone before making your way towards the exit.

You wanted the soup, his mom's recipe was legendary. But you hadn't forgotten how Jake had treated you in the past.

"Do you want me to drop you home?" He asked. "No, thanks Jake" You said leaving his house.

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© @leaderwon. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[tlou-reid]

Cruel Summer ❆ JJ Maybank

☃︎ SUMMARY: jj is love sick for a kook, much to his friends' dismay

☃︎ WARNINGS: fluff, cussing, that's it really

☃︎ NOTE: welcome to swiftmas 2023! we're happy to have you here!

swiftmas masterlist

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

And I snuck through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate.

JJ knew John B would tease the shit out of him if he knew what was going on. He could hear the way Kiara would yell at him as he pulled himself up to the top of the fence. JJ!, she would say, for a fucking kook! He couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed or ashamed about his current situation. Not when you were on the other side.

He could see the subtle glow of your fairy lights from where his feet dropped into your family’s garden. He walked a few paces, stopping at the pink azaleas he had seen your mom caring for a few weeks back. He was almost caught that night. Had it not been for the fact that he dropped his hat and had to circle back for it, your mom definitely would’ve noticed the tall blonde creeping around her backyard.

In a way, he thinks it was fate. He wasn’t meant to be caught because he needed to make it to you. But, seeing your mom had him longing to be able to come in through the front door. He wanted to come in and say hello to your parents and pet the over-excitedly family dog. He wanted them to ask him how he was and listen to them talk about their days at work. He wanted to be a part of your family.

He shakes his head to remove any of these longing thoughts. He knew if he wanted it, he had to do something about it. That was the plan for tonight.

He bent down to pick two or three of the pink flowers, neatly tucking them in the back pocket of his jean shorts. He made his way to the trellis that led right up to your bedroom window. He used to hate the way kooks decorated the outside of their houses with stupid shit like this, but it has proven to be incredibly useful. 

The gentle knocks on your window pulled your attention away from the book that was open in your lap. Your tummy erupted into butterflies, knowing JJ was on the other side. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from the amount of smiling you were doing as you opened the window for him.

He crawled into the room quickly, much smoother than he did when your arrangement first started. At first, he would come over to hook up. You’d met at a party and instantly made a connection, or you thought you did. When he walked away from where you stood and talked, returning to the pogues. Even with the lack of light at the party, you could see the dirty looks JJ’s group of friends sent your way.

And I scream, “For whatever it’s worth, I love you. Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”

“Hi, JJ!” You excitedly greet him, pulling him in for a hug. Your undefined relationship had grown past just friends with benefits but was still up in the air. “Hey, princess,” he smiled, pulling you flush against him. “How’s your day been?” You smiled at his question, retreating to sit crisscross at the edge of your bed.

JJ looked very out of place as he took the spot next to you. He looked dirty, worn, compared to the bright, beautiful colors of your room. Even compared to you and your glowing skin and bright smile. Maybe that’s why he felt so light when he was in your room.

You began telling him about your day, using your hands to animate the very mundane stories from your day at the private school you attend. Usually, rich people droning on and on about the minor inconveniences they faced throughout their day would be enough to set JJ off. However, the way you lit up as you told your stories and emphasized different parts with your hands and facial expressions made it intriguing.

JJ laughed at your jokes and looked sad when you told him about your struggles. What always made him feel the best, however, was when you finished your stories and turned to him. You always asked the same question, “And what went down in JJ’s world today?” It was silly and some would even call it cringey, but he loved it.

He tells you about his time mowing a few of your neighbor’s yards, and how one of the older ladies had given him a free lunch. He watched your facial expressions as he talked, knowing you couldn’t hide your emotions if you wanted to. He saw your “aww” at the mention of the old lady, knowing who he was talking about.

He also saw the way your face twisted up as he started telling you about the dirtbike races the pogues had gone on today and how John B. scrapped the shit out of his knees. JJ stopped talking once he noticed how unhappy you looked, turning away from you and tensing up.

“Why do you always have to do that?” He said with an attitude. You were learning how easily he could get upset, but you couldn’t really blame him due to how his family life is. Still, you rolled your eyes at his words, “Do what, JJ?” You mirrored his tone, the joyful air that had surrounded you when he first arrived quickly dissipated.

“Get upset when I mention my friends. Sorry they’re not kooky bitches who cry when they get a bad grade.” You rolled your eyes again at his words, shifting your body away from him. “You know I don’t care what or who your friends are.”

“Then what’s your issue then?” He turned back to face you, raising his voice as he spoke, “I listen to you talk about your rich friends and I can’t even tell you one fucking story?” You were getting quickly annoyed as he was making assumptions about your intentions. “JJ, that’s not-” He cut you off, “What is it then?” He was almost yelling now, not caring that your family was still in the house.

“I fucking love you, JJ! I love you and your fucking friends are gonna ruin it! It’s the worst fucking thing that could’ve happened to you, to us! But I fucking love you!” It was your turn to raise your voice. You were ranting, almost, just trying to get your feelings out there. You loved him, but the pogues would never let that happen. You’re not Sarah Cameron, queen of the kooks. You’re just you, and they won’t like that.

You think you’re about to lose your mind when JJ’s smile spreads across his face. He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, and it’s pissing you off. You open your mouth to speak, but he stops you by pulling you in for a kiss. The most passionate one you two had shared up until this point.

Once he pulls away, he holds your hands in his lap as he speaks, “When have I ever given a shit about what they think?” In his own, messed up kind of way, this is JJ’s way of telling you he loved you too. This was confirmed when he stood up and retrieved the crushed flowers from his back pocket. He handed them to you and you both erupted into laughter at the state of them.

[sage-green-matcha]

WORLD IN COLOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🌸

In a world where in order to see color you must meet your soulmate!

Content includes: fluff! Mentions of sickness? light smut at the end! y/e/c = your eye color!

<3

<3

<3

"It's such a pretty color! Cute isn't it?" You shook your head as Tara held up her new top, Chad watching her with excitement. "You know I can't see it, Tara" You smiled with a small scoff. "Oh, right...sorry" you brushed it off, holding back a frown.

Out of all of your friends, you were the only one who still couldn't see color. It had been something you wanted since you were a little kid. The idea around it fascinated you.Your whole life was in black and white. Only till you found your "soulmate" you could finally see color.

You were happy for all your friends, but you couldn't help but get jealous when they talked about the sunset or anything else in color. "Hey! By the way, I got my boy Ethan to come over" Chad mentioned excitedly, setting up what he called the "mini-bar"

You weren't sure if you were just crazy but you felt sick all of a sudden. You didn't wanna say anything in case you were, but your stomach felt weird. The pain increased with every second, now you were sure you were going insane. Or maybe you just had a stomach bug. "I feel sick" you had had plenty of stomach aches before but none of them included the symptom of blurry vision.

Chad and Tara looked at each other with confusion. That's exactly how they felt when they were minutes away from meeting each other. "Ethan is your soulmate!" Tara got up excitedly, helping you settle down on the couch. "Huh?" You couldn't think straight, feeling yourself fall numb against the couch.

"I think I'm gonna vomit" you grumbled, head in your hands as you heard the door open. "Hey...guys" You couldn't look up but Ethan was limping as he walked in, Chad quickly grabbing him before plopping him down next to you. "Hey, Etha..." You had never met him before, but you already felt a strange connection with him.

"Guys, look into each other's eyes" Tara forced your head to the side, watching with anticipation. You felt much better already, eyes squinted as you looked at Ethan. The both of you wanted to compliment each other, but with what was going on, you couldn't speak.

It was like everything around you was slowly sucking back in its color, a tingling sensation running down your back. "What the fuck?" Your whisper was barely heard, Tara and Chad holding back a laugh with how silly the both of you looked. "Your eyes, pretty y/e/c" Ethan took a look at your face, your eyes wandering. "What does that look like?" "She doesn't know the colors, dude"

Ethan had made a special code with charts to figure out what color was which, but on the other hand you had no idea what was what. Your body ran with emotions, now all 5 of your senses tingling uncontrollably. You were insanely conscious, watching as everything around you finished brightening up.

The light from the room no longer hurt your eyes, feeling yourself adjusting to your new but usual surroundings. "We'll leave you two at it!" Tara pulled Chad into her bedroom, leaving the two of you alone with your new eyesight. "How do I know which  color is which...?" Your words were mumbled, Ethan zoned out as he stared at all the colors on your face. "Ethan..." You waved your hand in front of his face, asking your question again.

"Oh well, I've always kinda known I guess? I just looked up the colors on the internet and made a chart, like that couch" he looked over, making you turn your head. "It's blue, and that painting over there is pink" "My mom's favorite color is blue" you smiled to yourself, remembering the darkish hue the color had when it was all black and white.

"What's yours?" You scanned around the room, trying to find the color that appealed to you the most. "Pink..." Your eyes stayed on his lips, the pretty color of them hypnotized you. "And yours?" "Y/e/c" You recognized the pink color that was appearing on his cheeks, blush is what it was called. "You're blushing, it's pink" you smiled, holding back a laugh. "Yea, it is pink"

You brought your thumb up to his face, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. He watched with anticipation, making eye contact as he pulled you closer. Ethan was the shy dorky guy no one paid attention to, he wouldn't have dared to look anybody in the eyes, let alone someone as beautiful as you.

When you closed your eyes it was dark, but you felt a burst of color explode throughout your body when your lips met. They fit together so perfectly, it felt electrifying. The feeling of his large hands on your waist had you going insane, butterflies going wild in your stomach. The sound of light breaths and skin made you shiver. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, the taste of sugar on his lips making you reach even deeper into him.

All your senses were going off, putting all of them to use. He worked hard to get a noise out of you, finally letting one slip when his nails dug into your hips. "I never thought you'd be a masochist" "am not" you mumbled, squirming and holding back another moan while his nails dug deeper into your skin, his lips invading your neck. "Your eyes say otherwise"

[shira-cosmic-star]

Thoughts for Pennies pt 11

This a sad thought I got. All of the ghouls are suffering from something in their lives. I’ve talked about Ritsu on post and now I’m going to talk about Jin.

Jin loves his mom so much. He planted her favorite flowers on his balcony. He waters them and looks at them pretty often. He tells Mc that it’s his mother’s favorite. It really shows how deep their son’s and mother bond is. I can only imagine why he doesn’t like his father and how much his mother really meant to him.

What if his father is a sleazy type of man, who sleeps with other women? Or was abusive in someways? Or maybe his father wasn’t there often for the both of them and his mother was a stay at home mom and took care of Jin?

Jin’s mother died due to some type of illness. It was said to be a psychological illness. We don’t know what illness it is. It very much could be more than one too. It could’ve been depression, which all mental disorders can be genetic/inherited.

Which explains why Jin is easily irritated, “lazy,” has an addiction to smoking, sleeps a lot, feels unmotivated and isolates himself from others. Jin hasn’t met anyone who is willing to build a real genuine connection with him. His “best friend,” turned on him too. People around him in his dorm likes him for his money, status and looks. He doesn’t even know if he can fully trust Tohma.

Then Mc enters into his world, and little by little. Mc is slowly chipping that ice around his heart. He hates the fact that Mc is walking on eggshells around him. But he opens up little by little about the flowers that are his mother’s favorite. He helps her in Vagastrom’s dorm. He saves Mc, Luca and Kaito on the mission. He even sends the cruise for Mc and Jabberwock. Heck, even though he used Mc to set his dorm back in order. He buys them three dress with accessories and shoes to go with it. All for the party and he chose them to dance with.

Mc was the only one he danced with, mainly because Mc is the only one he felt comfortable dance with. Mc never asked for money, never tried push him or anything, never tried to seduce him (which I imagine so many girls from his dorm tried to), never forced him to talk about his life. Sure they were curious about some things about his life, but when he tells them to end the topic. They do.

Jin even trust them to do some of the tasks he tells them to do. Clean his room, telling the chief what to cook, getting Tohma, wash his clothes, send them to the dry cleaners and the list goes on. Maybe it’s because his mother was this nurturing woman that some of the qualities, Mc has shown towards him?

There’s a reason why he allows Mc to hang around him. He isn’t the type to use someone and throw them away when he’s bored. Besides out of all the women and men in his dorm. He chose the most basic and none problematic person to assist him even though he can literally tell Tohma or anyone to do it. Yet, he trust Mc.

(Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to cry because Jin is one of my favorites. I’m too sensitive for this😭)

[thisismeracing]

OUR BABY ANGIE | MS47

Pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)

Warnings: mentions of long-distance relationships; not proofread; tooth-rotting fluff.

Word count: 1k

A/n: This was written per this request. Nonny, I'm sorry for taking forever to answer you, honey! I hope you guys like it, let me know your thoughts 💜

my masterlist and my taglist * requests are open!

When you started dating Mick you knew half of your relationship would be long-distance, not only because of his racing weeks but also because you always found yourself super busy with school and work. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and well, didn't Mick decide he was the best dancer in the world?!

He did.

Mick Schumacher was not only the dancer figuratively speaking, but he also made sure the music would be there, and that the band would play as you two went.

It felt great to have him as a partner, to share the good and the bad of life and not be afraid of judgment. To Mick, it felt exactly the same, except although your relationship was, to some extent, new, he knew you were there to stay, or at least that he would make sure you stayed as long as possible because life after you made his heart squeeze in sadness. Everyone from his personal life loved you and loved your connection, his mom would ask about you, his sister always talked with you, and his friends would share how happier he seemed whenever you were around or the subject of a conversation,

And then there was Angie, Angie was obsessed with you, she would wiggle her tail excitedly every time she heard your name or your voice, and she went as far as stealing a pair of clothing of yours from Mick's closet to sleep with it in her little dog bed.

That was one of the reasons why Mick thought it would be a good idea to ask you to watch her during this racing week. You loved her and she loved you and he was well aware of how lonely you could get studying non-stop and getting home to an empty apartment. It was joining the useful to the pleasant, everyone would be happy.

When Mick asked if you were okay to stay with his dog for a week while he was away you were surprised and flattered because that meant he trusted you to watch over something he loved and cherish deeply. He trusted you with Angie, it is not the same as when someone lets you borrow a car or a bike, it was a dog.

His dog.

His precious dog.

It was Angie.

And you loved Angie so of course you loved the idea of having her around. When Mick left, after making sure to remind you of her diet, and the little habits you were still getting used to, Angie curled herself on your side and just chilled with one of her toys while you took notes to get ahead for an important class.

Things went smoothly during the week. She would make sure to stay around you, and sometimes it felt like she was watching you and not the other way around. You two would go for walks before you left to work and then when you got home from uni. You would eat together, her little bowl of dog food close to you while you were seating on the sofa or sometimes even on the ground beside her. Your bond just got stronger and you were starting to wish to have her around all the time. It was common to see her when Mick was around, but it wasn't the same as getting home to her or seeing her happy wiggle when you gave her a treat or let her run in the park.

When Mick got home you were laying on the sofa watching a movie after a stressful college day. Angie was laying right beside you, her little head resting on your belly while you scratched mindlessly behind her ears and ran your fingers through her soft fur.

You were almost sleeping when you heard the keys jiggling and the door opening. Angie was already at the door, tail excitedly wiggling for her best friend. Mick got in and dropped his luggage at the entrance before crouching down to pet and hug her.

It felt domestic whenever he decided to come straight to you from the airport instead of going to his own house. It felt like your home was his home, and you loved that. Having Angie around now only amplified the feeling.

"Hi, my angel!! I've missed you too!!" Mick scratched her ears while she tried to lick all over his face, "How was it staying with mommy this time? Did she you enough treats? Did she spoil you, Angie?"

You froze on your spot. Mick had just referred to you as Angie's mom. The mom of his dog to whom he was the dad. And you were the mom.

Your heart rate picked up and everything just combined: how much you missed him, how he was always the best boyfriend you've ever had, how he trusted you, and now, how he saw a future with you, how serious he was about it. You felt almost like crying.

"Hey, meine Liebe," you were so lost in your thoughts you did not see when Mick approached you. A huge grin on his face.

"Hi, babe," you managed to answer while getting up to hug him close to you. His arms circled your waist and smashed your bodies together.

"I've missed you so much," he breathes, distancing himself just enough to find your lips with his in a passionate and longing kiss.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, hands on his shoulders for support.

Mick didn't miss a beat before laying both of you on the couch, your body propped on top of his, his hands imprinting themselves around you.

"Did you refer to me as Angie's mom?" you blurted anxiously after some minutes of silence, too many feelings to be kept inside.

Mick studied your face for a beat, his fingers caressing your jaw and chin, "I-I did, I'm sorry if it-"

"No, no need to be sorry. I'm Angie's mom, she's my baby," you happily exclaimed and Mick chuckled.

"She's our baby," he corrected pecking your lips.

"I love you," it was a whisper, but he was watching your lips and he saw the exact second it scaped between them.

"I love you," he repeated and you kissed him one more time before making space for Angie to cuddle you two on the couch.

You couldn't be happier.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits

[arcanesea]

Slow morning | bang chan x reader | 615 w.

When you hear birds chirping and bright lights penetrating your eyes, you stir in your sleep, a little uneasy. You try to regain your consciousness quickly when you feel an empty space next to you. That is when you realize that you slept throughout the whole night. Something that doesn’t happen much for the last 4 months. You slowly slip out of the bed, tying your hair in a ponytail.

Your feet take you to the connected room, the door slightly ajar. When you peek inside, you find out the reason for your undisturbed sleep last night. Watching as Chris sleeps on the armchair next to the crib. One of his hands stretched out inside the crib, your daughter faintly trying to reach it with her small hands. Padding across the carpeted floor, you take a moment to bask in the scenery. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your husband’s phone on top of the changing table. Quietly picking it up, you snap a picture of the moment when your baby responds with a soft giggle. You send the picture to yourself before placing the phone back down and picking up your daughter.

You take a look at your daughter, judging if she needs a change of diaper before you prepare breakfast. But it seems like she’s already in a good mood. You took two slices of bread and put it on the toaster. While waiting, you took out a cup from the cabinet and poured yourself milk.

“Did you have a good night's sleep baby?” you ask your daughter with a small voice. She responds with a grabbing motion to your face, smiling. You took a sip from your cup, feeling a little bit better than usual.

“Good morning,” you heard a sleepy voice from behind you, followed by a pair of strong arms circling your stomach. Chris sinks his head in your nape, giving it feather kisses. “Sleep okay?”

“Good morning, baby,” you respond, tilting your head to meet his. “I had the best sleep.”

“Good, good, you look so tired,” he said again, not letting you go even as you tried to move. You only laugh in response. Tired is the default look for newborn parents, that’s for sure. But he’s sensible enough to take a month off after you give birth. When you feel like you’ve got the pace of being a mom, you assure him that it’s okay if he wants to come back to the studio. It took the both of you a week to settle on that, and he never stays too far away from his phone, in case you need him right away. He also took a drastic change in his working hours, coming home early to help you take care of the house, and trying not to leave too early in the morning just to bid goodbye to your daughter.

“Coffee?” you offer him.

“Yes, please,” he answers, finally letting you move freely. “Let me take her,” he said again, reaching for the baby. You turn to position the baby comfortably before returning to the pantry. He took a seat at the dining table, starting his baby talk that never makes you not smile, asking your daughter all kinds of questions.

You set down his coffee cup along with a sandwich you quickly assemble on the table. With that, you murmur a soft “thank you,” leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

“What for?” he asks, putting on a confused face.

“For making me the luckiest woman in the world,” you respond with a smile.

“Baby,” he said, taking his chance to lean in and return your kiss, “You’re not the only lucky one.”

a/n. it's 3 am and I'm thinking abt chan as a dad. very normal i guess? every time i remember those 2 episodes of him on the return of superman, my heart seriously gets warm... he'd be the best dad out there🥹🥹

divider from @cafekitsune (thank you<3 will be using them for future posts too.)

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hello! I love the recommendations you've done so far.

I was hoping if you could provide me with some recommendations for AU Destiel Detective fics?

Thank you so much. Keep up the good work!

hey! Thank you, here are a few:

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight [Mature, 77k words]

Maybe it's the little girl whose disappearance turned into a murder, and whose murder turned into a cold case, and who has now apparently decided to move in with him. Maybe it's the unacceptable hole left in his life when his dumb best friend and partner in (the prevention of) crime decided to go and get himself killed. Maybe it's his brother, whose high-profile career and fantastic girlfriend and first-child-on-the-way are steadily leaving Dean in the dust. Pick one. Pick all of them. The why doesn't matter so much as the what, and the what is this: Dean is pretty sure he's going completely, certifiably insane. Sure, he hasn't started wearing all his clothes inside out, and he still showers on a regular basis (anyways, that's not crazy, just a little eccentric); but there's no getting around the fact that he just threw away his life, his career, and his reputation by dragging out his mom's old necromancy book and summoning a Class A Forbidden Entity to his attic. A cranky one, too. With horrendous bed-head.

As The Sparrow by hubrisandwax [Explicit, 18k words]

It’s 1947. Dean is an ex-marine fighting crime and a very different sort of war to the one he faced in the Pacific as a detective on the streets of LA. This city isn’t all the glitz and glamor it’s made out to be, however, and Dean finds himself tugged in to a world of life-threatening unknowns when Daphne Novak’s body is discovered. Castiel Novak, her husband, was one of Dean’s battalion mates in the war, and he's just as deadly and dangerous as he was two years ago when he saved Dean’s life during the Battle of Okinawa. Except now he’s wanted for his wife’s murder, and Dean just doesn’t believe Cas is capable of that. Is Cas really who he says he is, though? And what will Dean have to sacrifice in order to repay the debt he feels he owes?

Casicorn by everandanon [Explicit, 56k words]

When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)

Chronicles Of A Serial Killer by Duckyboos [Explicit, 52k words]

Dean Winchester has the perfect apple pie life with his shy-but-sweet boyfriend in the suburbs. He has a steady, well-paid job with the LAPD and he’s charming and attractive. Really, he’s living the American Dream. It’s his extra-curricular activities that some may disagree with, as he’s also an accomplished serial killer. To date, his kills amount to around 36 and he’s never been caught. He’s employed by the law, remember? He knows how these things work.

Grounds for Murder by cinderellasleftshoe, sarcasticbones [Explicit, 199k words]

"The weirdos in that coffee shop are always dancing, or playing 'strip Clue,' whatever that is. Once there were sock puppets, and, I'm not kidding, a cookie trebuchet." "Eyeliner?" "Really, Dean? That's all you got out of all of that. That there's maybe a bangable emo guy over there?" Dean shrugged and took another too-large bite of his sandwich. He'd been a detective with the Phoenix PD Violent Crimes bureau for three years, and he'd see a lot stranger things than sock puppets, old ladies, and strip Clue.

like a thief in the night by kingdumbass [Mature, 28k words]

Plagued by nightmares since the death of his mother as a small child, Dean Winchester is no stranger to grief. After the sudden death of his brother and the unexplainable disappearance of Sam’s fiancee Jessica leave Dean reeling, the former detective turns towards alcohol to cope with the loss, but when the news of another missing peron’s case all the way out in Pontiac, Illinois jogs Dean’s memory of an old unsolved case with possible connections to the mysterious note his brother left behind, he feels compelled to pick up where he left off. Though once he rolls into town, he encounters more questions than answers. Namely: what’s real and what’s delusion? And how is the creature from his nightmares tormenting the residents of this small, suburban town?

The Trouble With Blue Eyes by FriendofCarlotta [Explicit, 14k words]

For years now, Dean Winchester has had a mutually beneficial arrangement with Castiel Novak, a fellow private eye. It’s good, it’s easy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Well, except for one thing: Dean’s caught himself a bad case of feelings, and Cas doesn’t feel the same way.

What Once Was Sacred by saltandbyrne [Explicit, 55k words]

Los Angeles detective Dean Winchester works tirelessly to atone for the sins of his father one case at a time. When his best friend Charlie drags him to visit Sam at his new job, Dean stumbles onto a bizarre string of deaths that brings him uncomfortably close to his past. Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel, an enigmatic DJ who plays the sexiest music Dean's ever heard. A chance encounter at Castiel's house reveals that Castiel is an incubus, and Dean must face the lies and the reality of his childhood as a hunter. Dean comes to see that he and Castiel have more in common than he thought, and that guilt can be the hardest thing to cast aside.

You can also check our law enforcement!castiel and law enforcement!dean for more. Also worth mentioning the DestielNoirBang as a future source.

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N tags along to a bonfire on the beach with her brother and his friends. She tries to fit in with them, but winds up finding more of a connection to the guy crashing the party. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Age gap @spnfluffbingo Meet cute @spnaubingo “Are you stupid or stupid?” 

Word Count: 3,374 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), underage drinking, mostly implied physical abuse, past injury (bruising/scars), language, slow burn, a little angst, arguing, maybe a little gaslighting, mutual pining, a kiss to the forehead, fluff 

A/N: Also written for @spnfluffbingo and @spnaubingo. 

_____

A/N #2: Masterlist summary and warnings have been updated. Please review before reading. 

_____

Your brother grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you back towards the party going on down the beach. "Stop being such a bitc-" 

"Ow! Quit it, jerk." You tried to shake your arm from his grasp but his fingers dug in, "You're hurting me." 

"Don't be such a baby," he growled, stopping far enough away from the bonfire so the crowd of his friends wouldn't overhear. There was a chill in the air and his friends were gathered closer around the flames now. "I told you, if you wanted to tag along you can't just wander off by yourself. Mom would have my ass if something happened to you on my watch." 

"Screw you, I'm not a baby. Let. Go." 

He finally did. 

"They're all ignoring me. I wanna go home." You said, pointing to the mean girls a ways away. 

"Well, I'm not taking you. I'm not ready to leave yet." He said, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare. 

You knew it was a mistake taking a ride from him in the first place, but you didn't have your own car. And you failed your driver's test over the last weekend. Fun way to spend your sixteenth birthday, with your brother mocking you the whole way home. 

"Then I'll walk or call mom to come get me." 

"No, you won't. Unless you want her to know that I was right and you are a baby." He stared you down, "Just have a drink and relax for a bit, maybe it'll loosen you up and people will want to talk to you." He glanced back at the busty blonde he'd been eyeing all night; the girl you knew he came here for. He'd only been following her around like a lost puppy all summer. She waved and gave him a little wink. "Stop being so selfish, Y/N, and maybe we'll get along for once." 

"I'm selfish?!" You scoffed, you'd only sat around watching the sunset and shuffling your feet in the sand for the past couple hours while he chatted up said blonde. His friends weren't the only ones excluding you. Not that you wanted to be in on that conversation, but you thought the night was going to go a little different. You thought it would be like the old days when things between you weren't so tense all the time. "Just leave me alone and go drool already."

"And you wonder why I never wanna hang out with you anymore." He snapped and stalked away, throwing his arm over the blonde's shoulders when he reached her. Her eyes gleamed in the firelight and you heard her giggle echo along the shoreline when he tickled her sides. 

Everyone liked your brother and you tried to be just like him when you were younger. You were only a year apart but it made a world of difference. You didn't even mind wearing his hand-me-downs until you got to high school and got made fun of for it. But you made your peace with it now, you'd always be more of a tomboy and you couldn't be anyone but yourself. Graphic tees, jeans and sneakers were the epitome of comfort and that's what you wore now while the mean girls had skimpy dresses and tank tops that did nothing against the cold breeze that wafted in from over the open water. 

But a drink might help. 

The beer cooler was up the beach from the horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, but you didn't have to pass them to fish one out from melted ice. You cracked it open and took a sip, souring your face instantly and spitting it out onto the sand. 

You heard someone chuckle and whipped around. A tall guy with shadows cast on his face stood a few feet away, watching you. You glanced down to the bottle in your hand, then back at him. He followed your eyes, his expression turning stoic before you could read him. 

"What?" You asked. 

"It's kind of an acquired taste." He nodded towards the bottle in your hand and you took another sip, choking it down to prove him wrong. He wasn't wrong. Beer was gross. "Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

He cocked his head towards your brother who was now chasing the blonde down towards the shoreline. You didn't think they'd go in, since it was nearly winter and the water was freezing this time of year. But he teased her and grabbed her like he was going to drag her out into the icy depths. 

"Oh. Yeah, he's just an asshole is all and I needed a drink." You explained, raising the beer to your lips for a third sip. 

You wanted him to leave already so you could dump the rest out in the bushes. 

"Same," he nodded and chugged the rest of his own beer. "He shouldn't treat you like that, though." 

You didn't think he overheard but he'd certainly seen the two of you, "He's my brother, that's what brothers do." 

You toyed with the label on your beer, peeling it back from the glass. 

"No, it's not." 

He stepped forward, setting his empty bottle in the bin next to the cooler. The light of the bonfire catching his features enough for you to finally see him. The first thing you noticed was that he was not a friend of your brother's. He was older, too, though you couldn't tell by how much. 

He was a party crasher. Probably here for the free beer. 

"Whatever. It's not like he hits me, he just gets mad and pushes me around a little." You said, stepping back a foot when the guy took another step towards you. 

"He shouldn't. That's called abuse." 

"Not when I do the same to him. Then it's called sibling rivalry." 

"I know abuse when I see it." His voice lowered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His words held a story he wasn't telling and you didn't ask. 

You eyed him again. Between the full moon and the light of the fire you noted a few details that jumped out at you. He wasn't bad looking, actually kind of cute. His eyes held a world's worth of emotion as if he vaulted it up inside himself and swallowed the key. Days old bruising covered the left side of his face, particularly around his jaw, cheekbone, and eye. And he intermittently sucked on the split in his bottom lip that had reopened, probably from when he first smiled at you. 

"Well, your story isn't mine." You said, having had enough of this stranger who thinks he knows your life at a glance. He sighed and looked away, steeling his jaw and rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes cast down to his stomach when his shirt lifted and your heart sank at the sight. A thick scar stretched up his torso from his hip and disappeared beneath the dark fabric of his shirt, peeking back out around his collarbone where the neck hole had been worn loose. Someone had hurt him, badly; you thought that must've been why he was so conscious towards abuse. "Sorry, I didn't know-" 

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" He asked, meeting your eyes and taking another step forward. 

You didn't back away this time, though he was still a good five feet away at least. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, taking off with some judgy guy I just met and wandering down a dark secluded beach alone with him. Real smart. Maybe wait until I've had a couple drinks first, then try again." You rolled your eyes making him laugh silently. 

"I don't hurt women. Ever." He said as if it was a law of his own. 

"What about men?" 

"Depends," he shrugged. 

"On?"

"I've never started a fight in my life." He said, answering a question you didn't ask rather than the one you did. 

"Somehow I don't believe you." You squinted up at him, trying to read him. 

"Then why haven't you walked away yet?" He looked at the party continuing around the bonfire and then back at you. "You don't wanna be here any more than I do, so let me show you something."

"I swear if that something is your-" 

He raised his hands from his pockets and smiled, "I promise it's not. You'll like this." 

"You get five minutes and I'm counting. Also, I'm a black belt so don't even think about trying anything." You lied, although he didn't strike you as the violent type despite the evidence on his face and stomach. 

You scanned the beach for your brother, spotting him still engrossed with the blonde, so you knew he wouldn't notice any time soon if you'd left without causing a scene. You dumped your nearly full beer out onto the sand and set it in the bin with the other empty bottles. Ignoring the knowing smirk from the party crasher as you did so. 

"Beer is kind of gross." 

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled, "but it's cheap and gets the job done." 

"I don't see the appeal," you said, following in stride with him down the beach. The sand beneath your sneakers making it hard to keep up with his long legs. "Can you walk slower?" 

"Sorry," he slowed his pace and you easily caught up. "Drink a bit more than a couple of sips next time and you will." 

"I'd rather waste the calories on chocolate, thank you." 

He laughed silently again and sucked the split in his lip, "What's your name?" 

"Uh, Y/N, you?" 

"Dean." He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "So, how come I haven't seen you around here before, Y/N?" 

"We just moved here," you said, not wanting to explain how you didn't exactly get out much and explore the town over the summer. 

"Then you haven't been to the pier?" He asked, cocking his head towards the end of the beach where you were headed. 

It wasn't so much a pier as it was a small row of shops and a parking lot. Some storefronts were still lit up against the darkened sky and a lighthouse sat on the rocks near the shore. The light at the top swung around and around over the jagged rocks reaching into the water. 

"Seriously? You wanted to show me a lighthouse? That's not exactly special. Lighthouses are a dime a dozen around here, if you haven't noticed." You said a little disappointed and glancing back at the party. 

The bonfire merely a speck amongst the stars along the beach now. If you accounted for the walk back it would definitely stretch over the five minutes you'd promised him and you stopped walking. 

Dean noticed when you fell behind and turned to you. He laughed a little and smiled, "That's not where we're going." 

He reached out to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you gently until you laughed and skipped a step. He was troubled, that was for sure, but you didn't have a reason not to trust him. Not that trust should be given easily without question; but still, you welcomed the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours as he led you across the parking lot and up to one of the shops. 

"Ice cream," you stared up at the sign before Dean pulled you into the store. 

"Mhm," he licked his lips, guiding you up to the display of tubs sitting in the freezer and separating you from the older blonde woman behind the counter. 

She nodded to Dean like she knew him and he smiled back, "Hey, Donna." She didn't react at all to the bruises on his face and your mind started to wander. 

"I was starting to think I wasn't gonna see ya before closing," she said, retying her pink apron as if she was getting ready to close up for the night. 

"You know me better than that," he feigned hurt and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

You scanned over the flavours, some so bright you wondered if it was possible to taste a colour. "Isn't it kinda cold for ice cream?"

"Never," Dean shook his head like you'd said something foolish. "These shops are seasonal and it's the last night they're open until they close for the winter. You'll have to wait at least four months before you get this again. And trust me, once you try it, winter will feel like an eternity for your tastebuds." 

You smiled, you couldn't argue with that logic, "What flavour should I get?" You asked, assuming he'd probably have tried them all by the looks of it. 

"My favourite is the mocha with all the little chocolate pieces. It's basic, I know, but classic." He pointed to a tub filled with dark brown speckled ice cream. 

"Two mochas, please." You said. 

"Sure thing," Donna said and scooped you out a couple of cups. 

Dean gave your shoulder a squeeze before giving you some space to enjoy your ice cream.  

He kept eyeing you as you took your first bite, then your second, "And?"

"Okay, you're right. It's fudging amazing! Can we get more?" You asked, glancing back at the shop from where you sat outside on a bench under a streetlamp. 

"You still have a whole cup.” He barked out a laugh and you shovelled a few spoonfuls into your mouth. 

A chilled throb wracked through your brain and you paused mid-bite to squeeze your eyes shut and fan at your frozen mouth. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth and just as the feeling started to ebb away you felt hot, sticky lips lay flush against your forehead. Dean’s hand held the back of your head and you blinked open your eyes, feeling warm and fuzzy. 

"Better? My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid. Always seemed to help." He said and tilted his head to the side. 

You weren't sure if it was what he did or the shock of the unexpectedness of it, but it dulled the pain. He hadn't backed up an inch and you could see the gold flecks in his green eyes under the streetlamp. Framed by the yellow edges and purple patches of the bruising next to his left eye. His hair was sandy brown and short but still fell over his forehead and brushed the tips of his ears. And freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose on pale skin. He was pretty cute and different from most of the boys you usually met. 

You nodded and blushed, sneaking another spoonful of mocha ice cream between your lips. He laughed silently and leaned back, picking back up his own cup of ice cream from the bench next to him and digging in. 

"You're strange and kinda wonderful." You said around a bite full, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth when the brain-freeze threatened to come back. 

"That's oddly the nicest thing someone's said to me in a very long time." He took a bite and licked his spoon clean. 

"That makes me sad." 

"Makes me happy," he mumbled and smiled. 

"Like I said, strange." 

"Because you're so cool and composed, right?" He's teased, pointing with his spoon. 

"I'm a delight and you know it. That's why you just had to get me away from all those other guys down on the beach. Before they had the chance to notice too, of course." You joked, brushing your hair back when the breeze carried it away. 

"You caught me, I'm a sucker for a girl who tries to bite my head off with one wrong look." 

"You make me sound like a praying mantis." 

"In that case, I guess I'm safe as long as we don't have sex." You both frowned. "Sorry, that was awkward, I swear it sounded funnier in my head. Because you know they only eat their mate after-uh-mating..." He stuck his spoon in his ice cream and stirred until it was smooth like soup, "What?"

"You're blushing," you said, "it's cute." You liked being able to do that to him. "But you should know I'm sixteen." 

"Wait. What?" He looked like you'd just punched him in the gut. "But you were drinking." 

"When did you have your first beer?" 

He thought to himself for a moment, clearly he had been younger than you; then he abandoned his ice cream on the bench beside him. “What about your friends?” 

"Some are eighteen. But most are seventeen, same as my brother, they're his friends." You explained. "Don't ask me how they got the beer." You attempted to lighten the mood but he just stared down at his hands, rubbing at the cuts in his knuckles. "How old are you?" 

“Too old for you,” he shook his head and picked at one of the scabs. “Twenty-one in January.” 

So essentially there was a five year age gap between you. It wouldn’t be a big deal, if only you were older; but for now it didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends. Your gut twisted at the thought of never seeing him again and you could use a friend; and it looked like he could, too. 

Your cell rang and you fished it from your back pocket. Your brother's name sprawled over the screen. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, then answered, "What do you want?"

"Are you stupid or stupid? Where the fuck did you go?!" He shouted and you were sure Dean could hear, so you turned down the volume on your phone. 

"For a walk." 

"We're leaving." 

That meant the blonde was tagging along, either hitching a ride home with you or your brother was just going to drop you off at home before taking her to park somewhere and... -You didn't want to think about it. Your brother, like that. Gross. 

"Maybe I don't wanna leave yet. I made a friend." Dean mirrored your smile. 

"Find your own way home then..." he grumbled a few choice words and hung up. Asshole.

"Any chance you have a car?" You asked, silencing your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. "I need a ride." 

"Uh- no. But I know where we can get one." Dean said as he checked the time on his wrist. You fingered your ice cream and booped him on the nose. "What was that for?" He laughed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

You shrugged, "Just trying to lighten the mood. You look so sad," you raised his chin with your fingers, "Chin up, Dean." 

"Did you mean that?" He asked. 

You lowered your hand to rest on the bench between you, "Mean what?"

"That we're friends," he asked, chewing on the split in his lip. At this rate you didn't think it would ever heal over. "I mean, that we can be friends." 

"Uh-huh, unless you don't wanna be my friend." You nodded and searched his eyes, some kind of hurt flashing through them. 

"I think that's all we can be. At least, until you have a couple more birthdays." 

Your typical luck, the one guy you could see yourself interested in and he's too old. It was only nearly five years, sure, but you were only sixteen and he'd probably had a lot more experience that you couldn't compare to. But he was cute. 

Window shopping couldn't hurt right, until you had the means to buy. 

"I can wait," you teased and laughed. "But you look like you could use a friend. And I got your back, since I kind of owe you one for introducing me to this ice cream." 

"You don't owe me anything, Y/N." 

You shivered when the ice cream was gone and Dean stripped out of his hoodie, draping it over your shoulders as you walked along the side of the road towards his house. He apparently didn't live far away and if his father was home, he could 'borrow' his car to give you a ride. He actually used air quotes when he said borrow though, so you were a little skeptical. 

_________________________

Part 2

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @globetrotter28