#they’d be so so proud of who he became

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Thinking about Beru Whitesun Lars this fine Wednesday afternoon.

[requiemforthepoets]

england adventures 𖦹 LN4

part 2 of the norris family series

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: you are out of the country for two weeks because of a business trip, so lando and tilly had decided to fly to england to spend some time with her grandparents or in which lando became an ultimate girl dad.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the second part of the norris family series. the stories will be written and smau, but there will be times that it will be a combination of both. stories will be random, but i made a note of how the flow of the series will go (idk if u get me but u get me hshdhshs). i already have 3-4 drafts for this series on my docs, hope that i’ll be able to upload them during my week off from uni. anyways, i hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2k

WARNINGS: some typos, google translated french and russian, a hint of reader being french-russian, and multicultural household (let me know if i missed any)

“Hey, love. How’s your trip going?”

Lando slouched on the couch, phone in hand, gazing at the video call screen with a sheepish smile.

“It’s fine, just missing you and Tilly,” you sighed, leaning back against the headboard of your hotel bed. “How’s our little girl?”

Lando grinned, he turned the camera towards Thylane, who was sitting on the floor, coloring with intense concentration. “Tilly, love, say hi to mummy!” He encouraged Thylane.

Thylane looked up from what she was doing, her big aquamarine eyes that he had inherited from Lando lighting up. “Hi maman! J'ai dessiné une licorne and papa said it’s the best unicorn he’s ever seen!” (I drew a unicorn.) She beamed proudly, holding up a piece of paper that vaguely resembled a horse with a very long horn.

“Wow! C'est la meilleure licorne que j'ai jamais vue. You two are having fun without me?” (It’s the best unicorn I’ve ever seen.) You chuckled.

Lando shifted the camera back to his face, his grin widening. “Actually, we were thinking about going on a little adventure to visit mum and dad in England. Tilly’s been missing grandma and grandpa, and I need to drop by at the MTC as well. Right, my love?” Thylane nodded at Lando and got up on the couch to sit beside him.

“That sounds perfect! I’m sure they’d love to see both of you.” You grinned.

“We’re going to surprise them,” Lando whispered, leaning in like it was a big secret. Thylane nodded fervently beside him, a finger pressed to her lips in a shushing gesture.

You laughed, “alright you two, I hope your surprise goes well. Please extend my regards to mum and dad, and have fun in England, my loves!” Then you turned towards Thylane. “Sois gentille, Thylane Francesa Norris, d'accord? N'embête pas grand-mère et grand-père.” (Be a good girl, Thylane Francesca Norris, okay? Don’t give grandma and grandpa a hard time.) You reminded Thylane in a soft but strict manner, and she nodded quickly. She knew very well what it means when you call her by her full name.

Two days later, Lando and Thylane are walking towards the private jet that is waiting for them by the private part of the airport, and Thylane all dressed up, with her snoopy backpack, bunny slippers, with her hair tied up in pigtails in which Lando had attempted to do—a little wonky, but it’ll do, and the moment they land in England, it is when the adventure truly begins. When they arrived at Lando’s family home, she ran straight towards the house, quickly looking for Adam and Cisca, who were completely surprised to see their granddaughter. Lando stood back, arms crossed, a proud smile on his face as his little girl babbled about everything she’s done in the past week, including her ‘top-secret mission’ to surprise them.

After a whirlwind of hugs and kisses, Lando found himself in the kitchen, watching his mom fuss over Thylane. She was showing off the cookies she had baked, while Thylane was explaining in great detail how she wanted to learn to make big cakes like the one she saw on TV, and it made Lando laugh.

“Better teach her well, mum, or she’ll end up like me—burning toast and boiling water for cereal.” Cisca laughed, “oh, I remember your cooking, Lan. Let’s hope she takes after y/n instead.”

Their first day of adventure started with Lando deciding to take Thylane to the McLaren Technology Centre. He dressed her in a tiny Quadrant jacket, which Lando personally had made for her, and a smaller version of Lando’s fluorescent yellow bucket hat, making her match with Lando’s outfit.

“Ready to see where papa works?” He asked as he buckled Thylane into her car seat.

Thylane nodded enthusiastically. “Can I drive a car like you, papa?”

Lando laughed, “no, not yet, Tilly. But I promise, you’ll be the best driver someday.”

When they arrived at MTC, Thylane’s eyes widened in awe at the sleek, futuristic building. They walked through the sleek hallways, with her held tightly onto Lando’s hand, eyes wide with wonder. Lando guided her around, introducing her to everyone they meet in passing. Thylane was a star, charming every engineer, mechanic, and even the sternest of strategists. Then, Thylane tugged on Lando’s hand and whispered.

“Papa, are these your friends?” Lando knelt down at her level, nodding. “Yeah, they’re like papa’s work family.”

Thylane seemed to consider this, then nodded decisively. “I like your work family, papa. They’re very nice.”

Later, they found themselves in the simulator room. Lando plopped Thylane onto his lap in the driver’s seat, her small hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Okay, now, just like we practiced on your little kart, remember?” Thylane nodded, her face serious. “I’m going to go super fast, like you!”

“That’s the spirit!” Lando encouraged, guiding her tiny hands.

The two of them zoomed around the virtual track, with Lando over-exaggerating every turn with sound effects that had Thylane giggling so hard. Lando had thought of you and quickly sent you a selfie of her and Thylane smiling cheek to cheek, on the driver’s seat. You can’t help but coo at how cute Thylane is, with the bucket hat and all that, it is evident on her face that she was having the best time of her life with Lando.

For their second day, Lando decided it was a good time to take Thylane karting. He dressed her up in a pink pint-sized race suit, complete with a helmet that was almost too big for her and bobbed on her head every time she moved.

“Papa, it’s too big,” she complained. Lando adjusted it for the fifth time, kneeling in front of her, “you look perfect, like a real racer.” He reassured her, making her smile, the missing front tooth making her smile all more adorable.

“Alright Tilly, let’s see what you’ve got,” he added, tapping her helmet gently.

Thylane gave a determined nod, revving the tiny kart’s engine like she had watched Lando do a hundred times.

“I’m gonna beat you, papa!” She declared with a giggle. Lando put his hands up in a mock defeat. “Oh no, I’m in trouble now!”

They both raced around the track, with Lando purposefully slowing himself down to let Thylane overtake him. Every time she passed him, she’d shout ‘I win!’ and Lando would pretend to be utterly defeated. He had let her go around the track on her own right after, and took a video of her going for a spin around, and sent it to you.

“So here we have Thylane Norris, the next big name in racing,” he narrates, voice filled with nothing but pride. The camera shows Thylane in the tiny kart, waving at the camera with a grin that looks so much like Lando’s that it makes your chest ache with love.

“I’m gonna beat papa!” Thylane shouts, and you hear Lando burst into laughter from behind the camera.

“I’m doomed!” He declares dramatically. “The next generation is here to take my title.”

Right after karting, Lando took her out as well for ice cream. Thylane was chattering away, explaining the deep philosophical differences between vanilla and chocolate sprinkles.

“You see papa, vanilla sprinkles are for happy days and chocolate ones are for…extra happy days.” Lando was trying so hard to keep a straight face, and replied, “so, today is an extra happy day then?” Thylane grinned, “of course papa! Because you’re here. It’s always extra happy day when you and mama are here.” He smiled lovingly at Thylane as he wiped the ice cream smudge on her nose and cheeks with tissues.

By the end of the day, Thylane was fast asleep in the backseat of the car, her little head leaning against her backseat. Lando glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of this ‘girl dad’ thing.” He whispered and smiled to himself. “Can’t believe that she also sleeps like y/n.” He added, chuckling and shook his head at the sight of Thylane’s sleeping figure.

As the days passed by, Lando found himself embracing his role as the ultimate girl dad with everything that he had. He taught Thylane how to make a proper cup of tea, they went to the zoo, they built the most elaborate pillow fort Adam had ever seen in his living room, and every morning, Lando would attempt to tame Thylane’s curly hair, in which without a doubt she inherited from him too, with varying degrees of success, and spending time with her grandparents.

“Why does it always do that?” He asked one morning, holding up a curl that had somehow sprung back into his face. Thylane giggled, “because it’s magic hair, papa! Like Rapunzel’s.”

In the evening, Thylane snuggled into Lando’s lap as they sat by the fireplace. “When’s mama coming home?” She asked softly, her voice barely a whisper. Lando felt a pang in his chest. He misses you too—more than he could put into words. “Soon, sweetheart,” he promised, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.

“Mama’s just finishing up her important work. She’ll be home before you know it.” He added, with Thylane nodding, satisfied for now.

Your video calls are filled with stories from Lando about Thylane’s adventures—her tea parties with her grandparents, fascination with Adam’s memorabilias, and her insistence that “nana’s house” has the best cookies in the world. He would also read her a story from The Book of Goodnight Stories, a book which Thylane loves so much, over video call so you could listen in, and you’d watch as Thylane snuggled up to him, clutching her winnie the pooh stuffed toy.

It was their last day in England, they would be traveling back to Monaco the next day. Lando took Thylane to a local park where Lando played as a kid. Placing her on the swings and pushing Thylane higher and higher, her laughter echoing in the crisp air.

“Look, papa, I’m flying!” She squealed, her little feet kicking the sky. Lando’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and love. “Oh wow! You’re flying, Tilly! Higher than the clouds!”

After the day at the park, they finally got back home. Thylane excitedly recounted all of their adventures enthusiastically as Lando tucked her into bed. She looked at him with her big, sleepy eyes.

“Papa, you and mama are my best friends forever and ever,” she whispered. Lando felt his throat tighten. “And you’re our best friend forever too, bug. Now sleep tight, okay?” he replied, kissing her forehead.

When Lando had made sure that Thylane was already sleeping, he decided to call you. The conversation started with Lando retelling you what he and Thylane had been up to the whole week, both of you were laughing at his stories. Then suddenly, there was a little pause. Lando’s voice became soft and he’s staring at you lovingly.

“We miss you so much, but I promise, we’re making the best of it. Thylane’s asleep now, but she wanted me to tell you that she loves you ‘this much’” you can almost see him stretching his arms wide, “and that you need to hurry back so she can show you all her new drawings.”

“I love you both ‘this much’ too. I can’t wait to be home with you two again.” You smiled through the screen, a sudden wave of homesickness mixed with warmth had hit you. “You’re doing such a great job, Lan. She’s lucky to have a dad like you.”

Lando’s eyes softened, a bashful grin on his face. “We’re both lucky, my love. Can’t wait to have you back home with us.”

“Just one more week,” you promised.

“One more week. Until then, we’ll keep having our adventures, right Tilly?” He whispered to her sleeping form beside him, even though she couldn’t hear him, causing you to smile.

Two weeks had never felt so long, but knowing that Thylane was having the time of her life with Lando made it more easier. Yes, you miss them a lot, but seeing the two of them having their little adventures together, and seeing Lando being the most incredible, loving father—that made everything worth it. Lando was not only a great father to Thylane, but the best husband as well that you could ever ask for.

[sorchathered]

The Willows Never Stopped Weeping for You

Pairing-Tyler Owens x female OC (Olivia Wright)

Warnings- language, drinking, angst, death, injury, smut

Summary- Olivia let Tyler go to carry out his dreams, but broke his heart in the process. What happens when in the wreckage of a little small town he learns the real reason she left him, and how do they repair it?

A/N- we back at it again on the angst train, third week in a row lol!! I really loved this one, twisters was so good and I am excited to start writing for the fandom! As always, like, comment, reblog anything to let me know what you think!

“We’ve gotta get the hell out of dodge, we can’t sit here any longer Ty!” Dani is panicked, sweat dripping from their brow as they tremble, eyes wild and afraid of what will happen if they don’t make it out.

“I can’t- I can’t leave without her goddamnit and you know it, go ahead of me, you gotta trust me! We will make it out of here, get everyone to safety Dan, I’m serious get the hell out of here!” He yells over the roar of the wind, shoving them towards the rv and as much as it pains the crew, they know Tyler would die in this storm before he ever left Olivia behind. She was his everything, he’d loved her his whole life, and even if things were broken between them he would die a thousand times over to make sure she was safe.

——————————————————————

The crew had been up and down the state the past few weeks, working together with Javi and his crew to test out Kate’s theory and it had been one hell of a ride. They’d mostly been able to help keep the damage to a minimum, but as always with storms like these it was always a risk.

The little town on the outskirts of Enid had been ravaged more than once, but this storm seemed to be hell bent on taking whatever was left of the small community and turning it to rubble. So many injured, and so many homes and businesses destroyed, it seemed like a no-brainer that the government would send aid relief workers to help repair the damage, but what Tyler Owens hadn’t foreseen was the bright green eyes and auburn hair of his first love as he helped people in the aftermath.

Olivia Wright had been his everything since he was fourteen years old, occupied every one of his dirty fantasies and dreams of the future. He’d never been more sure of anyone in his life, until they’d crashed and burned so spectacularly shortly after college. He’d fallen in love with storm chasing, his dreams of working for the NWS had turned into something else entirely as he and the crew of misfits he migrated to became more and more obsessed with the beauty and danger these storms brought.

Liv had their whole future planned, finish college, get married. Ty would work for the NWS and she would become a nurse, fulfilling your passion to help people and getting to be by his side while he pursued his passion for meteorology. The two of them were growing apart, everyone could see it but him, and she knew she’d have to be the one to let go, he was always bigger than the whole sky and Liv couldn’t bear to keep him down. So she broke his heart and her own, and in that time she watched him flourish. His channel and all of his friends, the articles written about his discoveries, she watched it all with rapt attention, he was living out his dreams and Liv couldn’t have been more proud. Eventually she had to decide what was best for her, and watching storms ravage communities just like hers in Arkansas became too much to bear, working in disaster relief and helping to save lives became her passion, she kept her head down and let the work take over, but never lost hope that one day she’d run smack dab into that man that was as wild as the western wind.

It had happened less like a rom com and more like a horror movie, he’d seen her first and lost his cool immediately, ducking under an awning and scrambling to find somewhere, anywhere else to be but near her. Lily, who had been both of their friends in college couldn’t quite figure out what the hell was wrong with him, but it didn’t take long to spot her bright hair and the FEMA t-shirt Liv was sporting as she handed out water to a group not far from theirs.

“Oh my God is that my Livvy?!” She shrieked as she ran for her friend, the two of them erupting in giggles and swaying each other in the midst of the debris-covered road.

“Lily bug!! Oh my goodness what are y’all doing here?! I thought from your last video you guys were over near Lawton!” She said, smacking a hand over her mouth as she realized she’d given herself away already.

“Ooh so you have been watching hmm? Come say hi to everyone cutie pie, it’s been too long and we need to catch up.” She pulled her along but Liv tried to dig her heels in, wild green eyes panicked.

“I can’t intrude Lils, and I don’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable, I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me” she says as she puts both hands up in surrender but Lily is having none of it.

“Nope, you don’t get to pussy out Olivia, life is too short and you know it. Now come on! I want to hear all about your life, and Dani makes some bomb ass burritos so you should try to eat something, it’s gonna be a long day babygirl.

————————————————————-

He somehow manages to avoid her like the plague all day, catching glimpses here and there but mostly staying close to Kate and Javi, much to Lily's frustration if the glares she’s cut at him all afternoon are any indication.

Livvy wasn’t quite sure what to make of it; she had been watching them for so long online that she felt like she knew the crew personally, they were some of the kindest people she’d ever met and it wasn’t lost on her that all of them had been brought together by Ty. He’d made himself a family, it was just another thing that she had missed her chance on and she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over it.

When Kate had come over to introduce herself later in the evening, it had been obvious to Olivia that she and Tyler had something going on. It was hard to dislike her, she was beautiful and kind, and smart as a whip from what Liv could tell. Definitely perfect for him, so after a while of watching them all interact and being all but ignored by her oldest friend, it got to be too much and she found a way to make her escape, using an early morning as an excuse and holing up in her motel room to lick her wounds and cry.

Lily chases after her with another nasty glare in Tyler’s direction, everyone had questions now and he couldn’t give them, waving them off with a middle finger as he stumbled through the parking lot, a little tipsy and feeling an ache in his chest that he’d thought he’d healed from.

“Liv! Stop damnit, I know this shit is hard but just talk to me honey, tell me.” Lily shouts into the crowded lot and watches her friend's shoulders sag as she turns with tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh Lily.” She lets out a ragged breath and lets it all wash over her, everything she’s left unsaid and held deep inside. “I could never deny him happiness, if it’s not with me that’s OK, it’s been a long time and I’ve learned to accept it. If Kate makes him happy then of course I want that for him. I never stopped loving him, so of course I would always want what’s best for him. It wasn’t right back then Lily, that kinda love was unpredictable. We were growing together like two gnarled trees, neither of us were helping the other reach our potential and I had to let him go so we didn’t end up hating each other. “ A shudder runs through her at the declaration, tears are threatening to seep from her eyes but she won’t give them the satisfaction.

“That sounds like horseshit and you know it” Lily says she jabs her finger into Liv’s shoulder, her eyes are full of fire. Liv knows she means well, she’s always been a good man in the storm, someone you want in your corner when things get hard which is why she’s so glad that Tyler has her. Liv lets her shoulders sag and look at Lily full of defeat.

“I can’t change it now, even if I wish I could.”

“Do you wish you could?” She says with raised eyebrow and Olivia gives her a little nod.

“Every day. I miss him every day.” Tears well up in her eyes and she shivers as the wind blows through the camp, but she won’t let the pain overtake her, she made her choice and she can only hope that he’ll be happy.

Olivia doesn’t see it but Lily does, Tyler is half hidden behind the RV, he’s heard it all and she watches as his face goes from grief stricken to angry turning on his heel as he walks off into the dark, the weight of her confession breaking his heart all over again.

—————————————————

He paces the concrete hallway of the motel for what feels like hours, letting the weight of what she said run over him. Had he really been so blind? Olivia hadn’t wanted to let him go, and he’d never thought to question it when she pushed him away. He had been hurt and stubborn, shutting down immediately and saying some of the meanest things he could hurl at her to hurt her back. In hindsight he should have known she was just trying to give him the ability to do what he wanted, but just the fact that she had convinced herself that she was what was holding him back made a fire rage in him. Sure it would have been hard to manage, but they could’ve handled it! They could handle anything together, he’d always told her that, why she would have ever thought otherwise was something he couldn’t reconcile with.

He was at her door before he could stop himself, rapping sharply on the peeling metal and praying that she would listen. The sounds of the lock being undone told him she was still awake, the door swinging open to reveal her puffy tear stained face, hair up in a messy knot on her head and an oversized t shirt full of holes, one that had definitely belonged to him.

“Why are you here Ty? You’d had all day to say something to me, and you waited until midnight?” She said with a sniffle, there was no point in trying to hide what she’d been doing, it was all over her face and his heart clenched in his chest knowing he’d hurt her again.

“You didn’t want us to end, did you?” He said gruffly, he wasn’t leaving until he got his answers, he needed to know the truth.

“What does it matter now? You’re with Kate-“ she said as more tears formed, arms wrapped tightly around her waist as though she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not. We tried it, but she’s got her own demons to work out, and we agreed it would be better to be friends. Answer my question baby, I need to hear it. Do you still want me?” He was leaning in close to the door frame now, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the beer on his breath. Liv let out a ragged breath and nodded, that was all he needed to push the door the rest of the way open and pull her into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he pressed kisses to her cheek and neck while she held on for dear life. Sobs wracked her body as he sat down on the creeky mattress, pulling her into his lap as he rocked her side to side.

“My sweet girl” he murmured into her hair, he let her cry it all out until she relaxed in his grip, tipping her chin up to look at him as he stroked her cheek.

“I never stopped hoping for this, I didn’t want to hold you back but- I can’t stay away anymore. I-I love you Ty, I always will.” She stuttered and he let out a groan as he pressed his mouth to hers, flipping them both so she was on her back and spread out for him, she’d been the star of every fantasy he’d ever had, and nothing would ever be as good as the real thing.

“I never stopped either Livvy girl, can I have you? Please baby I- I need it, need to show you how much I missed you.” He looks wrecked, hair a mess and eyes wild, and she can’t stop herself from pulling him down to her, licking into his mouth and running her hands over his broad shoulders, watching him shiver in her embrace as he grinds down into her.

They make up for all the time lost, re-learning each other's bodies until the early morning, finally coming up for air when Tyler’s phone begins to go off with weather alerts and texts from Boone.

“Looks like there’s another cell coming this way, we need to get these people to safety while we can.” He says with a sigh as he rolls his body off of hers, she’s sated and happy as she stretches her limbs like a cat and moans, he feels himself twitch in his boxers as he watches her. She’s like a siren, calling him back to her and he wants nothing more to than to stay right here between the sheets and ravage her again.

“Stop looking at me like that Owens, or we’ll never get out of here in time” she playfully punches his chest and he lets out a hearty laugh, they’d have plenty of time to talk and catch up, he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

“Ok, ok sugar, let’s get back out here, storms a comin’ and times a wastin’.”

——————————————————————-

He should have known. He should have known they’d never get that lucky, especially knowing how unpredictable the storms had been this season.

They thought they’d had more time, weather warnings saying the tornado would likely just pass the town, but it had all gone wrong. What had started out as one had turned into two, splitting off and causing maximum damage to what was left of the area. He’d lost Liv and Boone somewhere along the way, Kate and Javi and the rest of the crew were safely out of danger, but somehow the twister had gotten between his truck and yours, and when the dust had settled you and Boone were nowhere to be found.

He was sick, bile crawling up his throat as he trembled, they’d been searching the perimeter when he’d heard Boone screaming for help, tearing through the field of corn to find your upturned truck, mangled and covered in broken glass. Boone had tried his best to pull you from the wreckage, but his shoulder was mangled; most likely dislocated from the crude angle it hung from.

Tyler pulled Olivia’s limp body out and heard a sharp gasp from her, she was alive, that was good. At least that was what he thought until he got her in his arms and saw the jagged shrapnel wedged in her abdomen, blood flowing like a water hose from the wound, way too much to be a minor wound. She kept lolling her head back and forth as she tried to lift her hand to his face, god there was blood everywhere, he couldn’t take the metal out, what if that made it worse? He yelled for Boone to give him his shirt, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it just wouldn’t stop coming.

“Livvy, baby look at me ok?” He says with a gentle pat to her cheek, her eyes keep rolling around in her head as she tries to focus on something, anything, but she just can’t seem to get there.

Finally she seems to see him through her unfocused bloodshot eyes, a small victory and he breathes for the first time since he found her.

“Oh god, Ty there’s so much blood! What happened? Are- are you ok? How do we stop it? We need help!” She cries out as her body shakes in his arms, she’s going into shock and bleeding to death but is still selfless to the end, always worried about everyone but herself.

He’s sobbing so hard now he can hardly speak, just kissing whatever skin he can get to as he holds her tightly, still pressing hard into the gaping wound despite knowing it won’t do anything to stop the inevitable. He’s going to lose her, and he just got her back.

A scream comes from somewhere, Tyler jolting awake from the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. He’s drenched in sweat, and his neck aches, as he looks around the dimly lit room he realizes the scream came from him. He’s replayed that awful night over and over for the past three days, it ends with Olivia choking on her own blood as she fades away and he can’t seem to make his brain understand that while it definitely happened that way, the end result wasn’t quite so gruesome. She’s alive, unconscious, but alive. How EMS found them in time will consume his thoughts for a good long while. He’d been so sure he’d lost her but the miracles just kept coming because somehow the doctors were able to save her and had assured him that though recovery would be long and hard she would in fact recover.

—————————————————————

Months later he would still be convinced it was all just a dream, the nightmares had ceased but the jagged scar along Olivia’s sternum would always be there to remind him of how close he’d come to losing it all.

He lived for chasing storms, he’d convinced himself it was everything he’d ever need after she’d left, but he’d been so wrong.

She’d never ask him to give it up, but he didn’t know if he could continue to run after something that had nearly taken everything from him. He and Kate took a job consulting with the NWS on her research after Ben’s article got traction, and he left his truck to Boone to continue the legacy and the channel. He wanted to prevent the storms from happening before they started and he knew with Kate’s research and the grants from the government they could really dig in and make a difference.

He asked her to marry him on her birthday, 6 months after the accident and she’d said yes before he could even finish his speech. The future hadn’t been linear like he thought, he didn’t have to accept what he thought he deserved and finally allowed himself to accept what he wanted. Olivia Wright Owens sounded damn good to him, and maybe one day a house full of babies. Yeah he could definitely make that his new dream.

Tagging- @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @trickphotography2 @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @sebsxphia @im-just-ken @kmc1989 @jessicab1991 @dizzybee03 @nouis-bum @attapullman @bobgasm @floydsglasses @withahappyrefrain

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 1

Steve wished he could say that that particular moment in his life hadn’t irreparably changed it, worsened it, he wished he could say that who he was, the whole of him, that part of him he now buried deep, deep down, that burying it didn’t cause problems.

Of course, it did. The chain reaction of it caused more problems than anyone could have ever expected. He wasn’t the same after that day.

Nothing in his life was the same after that day.

His mother tried, gods she tried so very hard to get him to open up, to try and get him to talk about what had upset him so much but… it was wrong. It was gross. He was gross.

His parents had always been clean and tidy, always priding themselves on their appearances, he couldn’t be seen being gross why… why did they let him just… keep doing that? Why would they let him keep making them look bad?

Why would they let him make himself look bad?

They should have known it was wrong, right? They should have known it was bad! They should have… they should have told him, but… they didn’t. They set him up for heartbreak, for humiliation, for pain, and he hated them for it.

He pulled away from his parents. And they, baffled as to why, were unable to keep him from withdrawing, were left with a mere shell of the bright little star-kissed boy they’d brought into the world.

Talking to him became difficult, he didn’t talk about his crushes anymore, he didn’t talk about anything to them anymore.

His new friends, Tommy, and Carol, they were… an interesting pair, but… their little boy had friends, so the Harringtons tolerated them, even when they convinced their little boy to go after the sports teams,  to sign up for basketball try-outs and swim team, even when Steve came home with a spot on both, seemingly proud of himself.

Lynda Harrington could see that something was missing. A bright spark, an ember that’d been slowly building, that’d been slowly growing larger and larger as he grew until she’d hoped it’d become a sun had been snuffed out by things unknown. Her baby wouldn’t speak to her like he used to, wouldn’t wear his cute little chef apron, or do ‘girl stuff’ like play dress up or help his mama with her makeup anymore, it was like, overnight, their son had been replaced with an imposter.

John Harrington hated it the most though. Struggled to keep himself in the house, made excuses to stay at work, unable to handle the fact that he could see his son reshaping himself into something he’d never been before, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

He hated the sports teams, although the men who worked for him often congratulated him on having a star athlete for a son. He hated the people that came with them, the people his son claimed to be friends with, they were awful children, who grew into awful teenagers, the majority bullies, those bad influences gradually influencing their son into something his friends dubbed King Steve. A boy he and his wife no longer recognised.

A boy who threw parties at the house while his parents weren’t home, forced away on business trips they couldn’t get out of and couldn’t take him along with thanks to school, allowing them to come home to precious possessions smashed, beer cans littered around the house, around the pool, the stank of marijuana clinging to their soft furnishings.

His own wife now questioned their marriage, his faithfulness, all because she’d found a bra in their bedroom that didn’t belong to her, spoke to her friends about it before confronting him. All John could assume was that one of Steve’s little parties had included teens getting up to no good in the bedrooms.

Safe to say the entire closet of bed linens had been burned, new were bought immediately, and cameras were installed around the house. Lynda still didn’t trust him.

And then work picked up. John Harrington’s firm went global, their money increased tenfold, but so did the workload, and with Lynda no longer trusting him, she was always by his side, watching, waiting for a sign, any kind of hint, a scrap of infidelity to prove it to herself… John hadn’t ever so much as looked at another woman, how could he? He’d married his high school sweetheart and even through her paranoia, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

It meant Steve was alone more often as he grew older, but… John couldn’t spend too much time around his son anymore anyway, he wished he could. He wished he could sit his boy down, wished he could wrap him in his arms and tell him it was going to be okay, that whatever it was that’d done that damage so long ago, they’d face it, they’d deal with it, and they’d put it behind them.

It was too late. His son had grown up. His bright star of a little boy was gone and neither he, nor his wife, could get an answer out of him as to why. John never claimed that to be good parenting either, avoiding the problem, he knew he was taking the cowards way out, it ate at him more than he ever allowed show. That didn’t help their home life.

And then a young woman disappeared from their pool. The cameras around the house picked up nothing, the image flickering with static, showing the poor girl there one moment, then gone the next, no sign of where she’d gone between the brief flicker of static. The government had shown up and confiscated the tapes before the police could come by. Not that the police knew about the cameras.

They weren’t exactly obvious.

And Steve, for the first time in his life, came home with a girlfriend. And a face full of injuries. But a girlfriend! Something steady, something stable, with someone from a respectable family, someone with brains, someone with a good head on her shoulders, something that spontaneously combusted about a year later.

Disappointing, but the face full of injuries was more important. Even if Steve wouldn’t tell them about it.

Steve dropped the swimming team.

Then came Steve’s spectacularly bad grades in school leaving him graduating but going nowhere fast in terms of college. Then came John Harrington putting his foot down, demanding Steve get a job, he’d even grabbed a ‘We’re Hiring’ flyer from the new mall after he and Lynda had gone shopping the day before.

Then the mall fire. More bruises, this time scars. The nightmares that woke their son up, and them, in the middle of the night with his screaming that he’d never explain. This time eye doctors, otolaryngologists, their boy suffered a ruptured eardrum the doctor claimed would likely get worse with time, that he’d eventually need hearing aids, another concussion, he couldn’t get his son to explain where the blunt force trauma had come from, but John swore never to force his son into work again.

Steve still grabbed a new job with his new friend Robin at the local Family Video store. A glimmer of that ember they’d thought had died out, peeking through the cracks in the walls Steve had long since put up.

The Harringtons had been proud, for the first time in so very long, they’d been proud. Thrilled. They’d spent much longer in Hawkins after that, attempting to build bridges that’d long since been destroyed, before they’d had to go again, “There’s utter chaos in the London branch, Steve, we’ll send you money for groceries every week and don’t forget to water the plants! We should be home by the end of the month okay?”

Then came the serial killer.

The Earthquake.

Then, the phone call.

“Mom, just… just stay out of Hawkins okay, just… just stay on your business trip with dad, alright?” The line was crackly at best, Lynda on the phone from their hotel room in London, John close by, listening as best he could.

“Sweetheart we saw on the news, that girl, the Earthqua—”

“Yeah, yeah mom, it’s… it’s bad here, look just stay there. Wherever you are right now, just stay there until I call again, alright? Just don’t come home. I’ll stay in touch as best I can okay? Just sta—”

“Steve? Steve?! Steve!!” Lynda pulled the phone away from her ear, the steady beep of a call disconnected going off from the speaker. Her panicked gaze turning from the handset to her husband “John!”

“Give me the phone, I’m getting us home.”

He wasn’t able to get them home. Not all the way. Hawkins was locked down solid. They got as close as six miles away, holed up in a motel close enough to see the plumes of black, billowing up into the skies above filled with angry red lights flashing intermittently like lightning, as if a volcano had erupted and the pyroclastic flow just wouldn’t stop, helicopters circled the town daily but reports never made it out of the little town.

They heard nothing for weeks, for months. There was no news on Hawkins anywhere on the channels, it was as though the place had vanished from the face of the Earth despite constant surveillance, but they watched from a hill high enough to see the town in the distance.

They watched it every single day, a radio on, the TV on, waiting for news, waiting for something, anything. Months turned into a year, in that time the Harringtons moved their things from the motel into a town a few miles further south, renting a modest two bed there, watching the smoke, waiting for a call, for anything to say their son was okay.

Anything to say that he was alive.

A year turned into two. Arguments led to tears, led to apologies, led to promises that if, if he were alive in there, they’d try harder, they’d figure it out. They’d get their little boy back, the one that loved freely, openly, the one that talked to them, the one that played house, played dress up with his mom, who cooked with his little apron on, they’d get their little boy back no matter what it took.

That they wouldnt stop hoping until news came to tell them he was gone.

And then just like that. The smoke disappeared. Swallowed up, gone. The skies slowly cleared above a dead Hawkins, revealing shrivelled trees, a horrorscape of a place that looked as though it'd been left to rot decades ago.

Lynda’s incredibly expensive mobile phone rang.

“…Mom?”

Part 3

[heaartzzforcupidzz]

Heyyy I was wondering if I could request something?? You don't have to do it but I wondering if you could do a Catnap and Dogday x reader who acts very motherly to everyone? It can be smut or not, you can decide. But I'd really appreciate it if you did my request. Thanksss :3

“Kitty Catty.”

Relationship(s): catnap x bunny!mother!reader x Dogday

Warning(s): fluff, suggestive

You were basically everyone’s mother. They all adored you when you were created. You were created for the purpose of acting like a caring mother to the poor orphans. You did your job so well that even the other critters considered you their mom except Catnap and Dogday. They saw you as.. well, we will talk about that, later, hm?

There was a storm that night and instead of sleeping in your warm cozy bed, you had laid in the middle of the floor with a blanket because Kickin’ oddly enough was afraid of all the thunder and lightning. you didn’t complain though. you hummed a tune until you were sure, he was out like a light.

For another instance, if Bubba had become stressed that he couldn’t answer a problem, you would gently ease his mind with questions he could answer and then help him figure out the one he couldn’t by himself. Afterwards, you’d tell him how proud you were of him.

Lastly, it’s how when Bobby felt alone and that nobody really reciprocated how she loved. You’d try to match her love or even top it. She loved you the most for it. You never made her feel like a problem. You even looked at her like she was everything to you and she loved you dearly for it.

Dogday and Catnap loved that about you. You were sweet, caring, and made sure others were okay before you tried to even look after yourself. That last part was good and bad to them but nevertheless, it still made you so special in everyone’s hearts.

“Wake up, Kitty Catty,” one of the kids said as he poked the side of Catnaps fur. Catnap just opened his eyes and stared. Trying to determine if he’d use his gas or not. This was the second time this kids, Timothy, he believed has walked away from the group to mess with him.

Catnap stood tall. Timothy instantly became fearful, his heart thumping loudly. Soon enough, here you came and ushered Timothy out of Catnaps ‘hiding’ place. you then turned, a nervous smile on your plush lips. “Im sorry, Kitty-“ something he has grown a liking to ever since you called him that your first meet. “He’s just playful and can be a bit eccentric at times.”

Catnap only stared at you. He nodded before he walked away. Strange? he usually put up more of a fight with the others.. why was he so different towards you? you didn’t care too much though as you heard a child cry. your feet moved quicker than your mind and soon, you were holding the crying child up to your chest.

“Charlie? what’s wrong, my dear?” you said, sweetly as you softly rubbed circles on her stomach as she looked up at you. She sniffed and told you she had fell and the other kids began to laugh at her. you sighed, before you pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Mm, did you tell them that wasn’t very nice?” You asked. Charlotte otherwise known as Charlie shook her head. “Well, maybe you should.. and if it doesn’t stop, tell them that mama is coming for them.” You said, before putting her down and watching her smile.

“Thanks, mama.” She said before she ran off with the other children. You hadn’t noticed Dogday standing behind you with Timothy. Timothy had been telling Dogday all about how Catnap had frightened him.

“That was amazing.” Dogday said, breaking the silence. you were abit frightened but turning around and seeing Dogday, you smiled. “Oh hello!” You greeted. That’s how you and Dogdays friendship began.

You had already knew Catnap and he sat with you sometimes and just watched the ‘stars’ with you. You weren’t expecting for both of them to confess to you a year or maybe even two later. But you weren’t complaining.

They both accepted the fact that you loved them both equally and that they’d have to learn to share. Which they did. It worked good for all three parties and you became an actual mother to your own litter soon enough.

They made you the happiest mother in the world.

[sehtoast]

Rebirth (Homelander x OC)

18+ | heavy descriptions of gore, s4 e4 spoilers, the bad room, mentions of sexual abuse/trauma, torture, they're making each other worse in this one actually and homie deserves that kind of ride or die vibe | Fic Directory

“So, how do you feel?”  

Such a simple question for such a… gruesome task.  Benjamin had gone with Homelander to his moment of reconciliation.  Even helped him pipe sloppy icing writing onto that ugly little Carvel cake.

He knew everything.  Long ago, after busting into Stan Edgar’s personal terminal, Ben found the tapes and files on Homelander’s childhood.  Watching them had been sickening at best, but hearing the personal account as described to him by his lover over the years?

Even the do-no-harm bug himself couldn’t find a reason to prevent Homelander from following through.  He’d found John crying in front of that shattered mirror and pulled him out of his stupor once the banter ended.  Benjamin held him on the couch as he sobbed as he often did after run ins with the different facets of his psyche.  Used to be that there was no one to hold him at all, but the bug changed that.

Homelander would crash, but he would have somewhere safe to burn.

He thought about John’s various accounts of his childhood on the flight to the compound.  The incinerator, the bad room, how on edge he always was under the all seeing eye of big brother.

Usually the violent details emerged after nightmares.  Babbled words and cries for mercy as he tossed and turned until he’d shoot up in bed with his eyes primed to protect himself from his own memories.  Benjamin always held him afterward and listened.

“Sometimes I can still feel it,”  John would say, eyes glassy as he’d fight to keep those little shakes from turning into sobs.  No signs of weakness, no reaction.  Part of his conditioning– he cannot let the world know it hurts.  He cannot be a disappointment.

Ben would all but beg him to let it free anyway.  “You don’t have to be strong with me, pumpkin,”  he would always whisper.  “I love you even when you’re not.  Promise.” 

“But I– I have to be,”  Homelander would reply.

Benjamin always asked why.

John could never give an answer.

The worst were the more… intimate details.  Benjamin knew less about these, but there’d always been a sneaking suspicion that things along the lines of that happened.

Homelander spilled the beans after a panic attack during foreplay.  Stuttered out the details of masturbating during the security guard’s breaks. Doing what young boys do, he’d said.  Failing to finish in time and finding himself subject to mockery day in and out.

The resulting body image and self confidence issues, and the occasional difficulty with performance were all the consequence of some jackass further torturing the boy who never had a safe moment to feel what he described as the only good he could find in that awful room.  

Each time, Ben held him.  Promised him he was safe.  There’s no judgment, no mockery, no humiliation, and certainly no name-calling.  With kisses pressed to John’s knuckles, the two would talk it out until the world became steady again.

It’s why Benjamin doesn’t mind watching John laser that piece of shit’s dick clean off.  He doesn’t bat an eye to any of it.  The torture they face is but a fraction of what they’d done to that little boy– a drop in the lake of the things they swear up and down they don’t recall.

The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

After listening in on Barbara’s account of Homelander’s conditioned obedience and the nature of his birth, he finds he has no problem holding her steady as his love slaughters the rest of them before her eyes.  

Bit by bit, he dismembers them.  Split them in two and paints the room with their remains.  He laughs and laughs, grinning wide and proud as he pries a man’s jaw open until his neck splits just to rip the tongue from his gullet and chuck it at her face.  He doesn’t stop until they’re no more than unrecognizable piles of flesh and viscera. 

True to their perfected teamwork, Ben webs Barbara to the wall to feast her eyes upon Homelander’s good work, and John?

Well, lasering the door and melting it forever shut was ingenious.

She will die in there, nice and slow. It’s no less than she deserves.

It’s heartbreaking to see how little it did to soothe Homelander’s pain.  Revenge, as Benjamin had told him many times, never quite worked out the way people wanted it to.  It’s potent for as long as it takes for the elevator to reach the surface.  It simmers during the flight.  Fades by the time they touch down at the tower.

And then turns to deep, lurching sobs as they shower it all away.

Release, yes… but not enough.  

It could never be enough.

“Johnny–”

“Homelander,” he chokes through tears. He’d been correcting people all day about his name.  “I’m– I just–”

Ben shushes him softly, thumbs swiping away the odd gooeyness of blood and tears.

“H-Homelander… just–” he tries again.  “Just for now… please…” 

Because Homelander was safe.  Homelander had the strength to overcome.  Homelander was the ideal and the power to protect himself.

The arms around Ben’s abdomen pull him impossibly closer.

“Homelander,” Benjamin murmurs, still stroking softly at his love’s face.  “I love you.”

Maybe not the best thing to say to the man claiming to be casting off the shackles of love, but certainly something always worth reminding him of while he crumbles.  There’s a million promises behind those three little words.

I love you when it hurts.  I love you when it doesn’t.

When it is ugly.

When it is beautiful.

As long as it is you.

His love succumbs to more cries, but Homelander knows, deep down, that it’s okay.

He is safe.

He is loved.

There will be no mockery. No humiliation.

Here, in the arms of his little spider, he need not be strong.  Here, he may simply be.

[atlabeth]

weight of the world

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy returns to camp after a successful quest. luke battles his guilt.

a/n: a lot of you guys seemed to like the percy pov and the pure angst of luke doing all this stuff to his first love's brother percy jackson instead of just percy jackson and first and foremost i would like to say you're all crazy but i also agree. so here you go. title from the jon bellion song

wc: 5.6k

warning(s): reader is dead (i feel like i have to tag this every time lmao). angst made angstier with fluffy flashbacks. tlt betrayal scene (pit scorpion edition). everyone is so sad

When Percy returned to camp with Annabeth and Grover, they were hailed as heroes. 

It might not have felt like it on the road, isolated with just the three of them, but they’d prevented a third World War. They certainly stopped camp from getting destroyed, if what Luke told them was true about the cabins taking sides. 

Burning their burial shrouds felt even better, especially with the Ares cabin’s expert craftsmanship. Apparently it was a tradition because demigods died so frequently on quests—Percy took pride in breaking that unsettling standard. 

It turned out all he needed to come into his own was to go on a quest everyone thought would kill him and not die. 

He excelled during his sword fighting lessons—going against a god would do that for you—he’d gotten much better at using his powers—going against a god would also do that for you—and his team always dominated on the lake during races, though that might’ve just been him cheating. 

He’d even started getting used to the Poseidon cabin in all its emptiness. It still felt too lonely, but he was working on it. The first thing he did when he got back to the cabin was pin your photo on the wall—Cabin Three belonged to you as much as it did to him.

And of course, everyone wanted to hear about how Percy saved the world. He’d told the story of his quest about a hundred times since he got back, sometimes with Annabeth piping in to set the record straight, sometimes with Grover dramatically setting the scene, always with a million different questions in between about how everything went down. 

Tonight was no different in the amphitheater—a group of Athena kids wanted to hear about his fight against Ares again—but he managed to get out of giving them the excruciating play-by-play courtesy of campfire songs. Percy didn’t really mind, though—any night with a large, golden fire was a good night in his books. 

Which was kind of how he ended up giving Luke the play-by-play of his quest. Maybe it was bragging, but he hadn’t seen who he considered his first friend at camp in a while. And yeah, sue him, but he wanted to impress Luke. He was cool and nice and good at everything, and Percy wanted to prove he’d made him proud. 

“—And I thought I didn’t stand a chance, but she taunted me and told me to jump into the water if I was really Poseidon’s kid. So I did, and it worked, and somehow I lived.” Percy shook his head with a slight laugh. “It ended up all over the news. I was a nationally wanted criminal for a couple days. We also blew a bus up, and rode with a zebra and a lion to Vegas, and went to the Underworld— gods, we did so much. It was crazy, honestly.” 

Luke chuckled. “I’m sure.” 

Percy glanced over at him, his brows creasing when he saw his distant gaze. He didn’t think Luke heard a single word. “You good, man?” 

He blinked and focused back on Percy, and though he smiled it was strained. “Yeah. Sorry—spaced out for a second. You were talking about your quest?” 

Percy nodded slowly. “Yeah. The whole criminal thing.” 

His smile turned a little more genuine. “You made front page news, too. I think you became the idol of a lotta kids here.”

“Oh, god,” he said with a frown. “You guys get news here?” 

“Couple New York papers,” he nodded. “You’re camp-famous.” 

Percy huffed a laugh and shook his head. “It feels crazy. I just got here a month ago, and everything’s already changed so much.” He looked over at Luke. “What did you do after you got home from your quest?” 

“...It takes some getting used to,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean, getting to camp after so many years on the road was rough—coming back to camp after getting this—” he tapped his scar— “didn’t help.” 

“How did you get that?” he asked. 

“You’re always trying to get the saddest stories out of me,” Luke said wryly. “You know you can read books, right?” 

“I can’t, actually,” Percy said. "Not well."

Luke laughed and shook his head, his gaze falling back to the fire. Percy took it as him moving on. 

“I— I know I’m kind of proving your point, but… I wanted to ask you if I could have a couple more pictures” Percy cleared his throat, brushing a few dark strands of hair out of his face. “Of my sister, I mean. Obviously, you have way more of a right to them than I do, but— but Cabin Three’s a little bare. I thought adding a couple current things to the old stuff she put up would be nice.” 

His throat bobbed, and it took him a second, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah— sure.”

“Tomorrow after breakfast?” he asked. “I’ve got some free time before I have to go down to the forge.”

Luke nodded again. “Sure. You still have that picture I gave you?”

“Of course,” he said. “I already put it up on the wall. Do you want it back?”

His smile was bittersweet as he shook his head. “Nah. Like I said, you deserve to have a piece of her with you. And I’m sure she’d say the same.”

“I asked my dad about her, y’know,” Percy said. Luke’s eyes widened a bit as he looked back at him. “I went to Olympus on my own to return Zeus’s bolt, and the two of them were there. My dad and I got some alone time, and…” he shrugged. “I already annoyed two gods that day. Figured a third wouldn’t be that crazy.”

“What did he say?” 

“That it was one of his greatest regrets,” Percy said. “And he’d never forgive himself for letting her die, and for what it did to her mom.” He glanced at Luke. “And to you.”

Luke’s chest stilled, his gaze going out of focus for a moment as a muscle worked in his jaw. He hid it well, but Percy knew. He’d spent enough time at home with his mom and step-dad, overheard enough one-sided arguments. 

“You’re braver than me,” he finally said, and he stood up. “I’m gonna turn in—it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he said. “And Poseidon is too, for whatever it’s worth.” 

Luke didn’t look back at him as he started towards the path. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Percy.” 

-

“Are you sure you’re allowed to put lights up?” Luke asked. 

“Okay, Chiron,” you said cloyingly. “I didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules.” 

“I’m just worried about fire safety!” he exclaimed. “The Hephaestus kids nearly burn down their cabin at least five times a week.” 

“They’re working with actual fire. These are just Christmas lights.” You glanced down at him and he handed you the next strand. “Besides, this is the safest cabin for possible fire hazards. And they look pretty—that’s all that matters.” 

Luke chuckled as you hung them up, and he took a step back as you jumped off the chair and moved it to the other side of the room. You usually hung fairy lights, but with the holidays just around the corner, you wanted to make the place more festive. You asked Luke if he wanted to hang out with you while you decorated, and he obviously accepted. He took all the time he could get with you. 

“It’s so quiet in here,” Luke said as you got back up, taking the next strand with you. “I’m not used to an empty cabin.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re not supposed to be alive,” you mused. 

“You of all people can’t say that.” He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Do you ever get lonely in here?” 

“‘Course not,” you said. “I’ve always got you following me around.” 

“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Your company’s the best.” 

You grinned and looked back down at him, and Luke gave you the next string of lights. “Or maybe you’re just a little crazy. You’ve gotta be to spend three years on the road with me.” 

“Being around you is what’s kept me sane,” he corrected. “Especially in the Hermes cabin of chaos.” 

You got up on your toes and lifted a leg up so you could lean to reach the last hook. “Oh, come on. Your siblings are so fun to be around!” 

“Maybe in small doses,” he said wryly. “And be careful, gods—” 

You looked down at him, your grin only growing. “Are you saying you’re worried about me?” 

“Always,” he said, still watching you, “but the last thing you need is to break your leg.” 

“It’s a five foot fall, Luke,” you said, amused as you got back on even footing. You hopped back down and tilted your head. “I’ve survived much higher falls.” 

Luke frowned. “You don’t get to joke about that.” 

“I thought you were dead too,” you defended. “That means it’s fair game.” 

His chest twisted. He’d played that day over in his head thousands of times since he first lost you, wondering if he could have done something different or if he should have searched more—he stayed in those woods for a week and a half searching for you before another monster attack forced him out of the area. It was the whole reason he came up with a designated meeting area with Thalia and Annabeth if they got separated—he never wanted to lose someone again the way he lost you. 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it, y’know? 

“Thank my dad,” you said. “I would have died if I didn’t fall into water. And he’s the reason I got to camp.” 

He’s also the reason you ended up on the streets in the first place, Luke wanted to say, but he held his tongue. You’d never shared his disdain for the gods, and he didn’t want to spoil your mood with his bitterness. 

So he doesn’t. He tilted his head and focused back on you. “Do I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're still alive?”

You smiled as you pushed the chair in front of your desk. “I could always stand to hear it more.” 

“Well, I’m thankful that you’re alive,” Luke said. He could have stared at your smile forever. “Mourning you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 

“With any luck, you won’t have to do it again,” you joked. “I get it, though. Sometimes it feels like a dream. I thought I was hallucinating when you came over that hill.”  

The best and the worst day of his life—he found you again and lost Thalia in the same five-minute span. It wasn’t fair—Luke had told Thalia so many stories about you, and she was the one that brought him back from the edge your supposed death sent him to. On his worst days, Luke blamed himself for both. 

“Luke,” you said, jarring him out of his thoughts. “What do you think of the lights? Tacky, or festive, or both?” 

He blinked, then took a step back with you so you could get the full view. He nodded. “Festive, definitely. Where’d you even get them?” 

“The Big House attic,” you said. “It’s not just full of Oracles and spoils of war.” 

He chuckled. “And how did you convince Chiron to give you those?” 

You shrugged. “You know I’m persuasive.” 

Luke shook his head. “I’m jealous. No one else really gets to decorate their place like this.” 

“No siblings means full creative control,” you mused. “And Big Three dad means a big cabin all for me.” 

“And yet you still get a twin bed,” he said with a smile. “We’re all equal, really.” 

“Like you wouldn’t prefer a full.” You fluffed your pillow then set it back down. “You spend as much time in here as I do.” 

“Can you blame me?” Luke shrugged. “There’s no privacy there. We can get away with basically anything in here.” 

“And because you love me,” you said cloyingly as you rustled your hair with his hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I really do.” 

Your smile widened and you gestured at your box of decorations. “Wanna prove it, loverboy? Help me get the rest of this up before sword lessons.”

“Y’know, I’m leading them today,” Luke said, picking up a stack of snowflake cutouts. He was pretty sure you just took all the rejects after you were in charge of the crafts for a week. “Technically, that means we’ve got as long as we want.” 

“Oh, Luke Castellan,” you said airily, pressing a hand to your chest. “You know the way to my heart.” 

-

“Oh,” Percy said. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. And this is only one of them.” Luke set a cardboard box full of things on an empty bed and sighed. “She made this place her own while she was here.”

Percy took out a stack of baseball cards on top—Red Sox, of course, the only bad thing about you—and shuffled through them. “Everything’s a little dusty.” 

“No one really wanted to come in here after she died,” Luke said. He had a tangled mess of Christmas lights in his hands. “All this stuff stayed up for a year or two before I took it all down.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re probably the only one apart from me to be in here since she left.” 

Percy set the cards down. “Do you mind if I put some of it back up?” 

Luke glanced at him. “Why do you always ask me? This is your place.” 

“It’s not just my place,” he said. “I… I want to make sure I’m honoring her well. And I don’t wanna make it harder for you. Especially if you took it down for a reason.” 

Luke was silent for a moment as he stared at the lights. He brushed off some dust with his thumb. 

Percy felt bad for pushing the matter every time he was around Luke, but there was a tug inside of him—an innate need to know more about her, a desperation to honor her life despite never meeting her. 

“I appreciate it,” he finally said. “But go for it, man. You don’t have to get my permission.” 

Percy nodded, and he took a poster out, wedged in the side of the box. A Blondie poster, based off the huge block letters above a blonde singer stylized in pop art. It had a torn corner, and bits of tape had been folded over some parts of the edges. 

Luke chuckled. “She was a huge Blondie fan. She brought her Walkman when she ran away—I lost count of how many times we listened to Parallel Lines. Definitely put that one back up.” 

Percy nodded and set it on his bed. He looked at the lights in Luke’s hand. “Why’d she have those?” 

“She loved to light the cabin up,” he explained. “Said it made it feel more homey, and she liked to change it with the seasons. And when she enlisted the Aphrodite kids, it was like a— a HomeGoods warzone.” Luke shook his head with the most genuine smile he’d seen all day. “She really was something special.”  

Again, Percy’s heart clenched. It wasn’t fair he only got to learn about you through stories, only through the past tense. If he could get his mom back, why the hell couldn’t he get you back? Why couldn’t his dad have stepped in? 

What good was regret when you have all the power in the world to stop it? What good was being a god if you couldn’t save your family when it mattered most? 

“Y’know, I decorated this place a million times with her,” he said, and Percy was thankful for the interruption with his thoughts. “She wanted it to be a welcoming cabin, open to the whole camp if they ever got homesick.” 

“So the opposite of what it used to be,” Percy said wryly. 

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “You two are the first Poseidon kids in a long time because of the oath—it was just here for respect. She didn’t just make it into her home, she made it into a home for anyone that needed some extra warmth.” 

Percy looked around, trying to imagine you and a younger, unscarred Luke putting all this stuff on the walls, him helping you hang Christmas lights. You sitting on a bed, maybe what he’d chosen as his bed, talking a younger camper through their fears or their homesickness. You forcing the innate coldness of Cabin Three out and replacing it with warmth of your own. 

“Did you bring any pictures?” he asked. 

Luke nodded again and took a few out of his pockets, offering them to Percy. He took the one sticking out the most and smiled a bit. 

“Very Poseidon of her,” he commented. 

“She loved the beach,” Luke said, smiling wistfully. “No matter what state we were in, she would always try to find one. We could’ve walked twenty miles that day, and the moment she stepped into the water she would be good as new. I should’ve known who her dad was a lot sooner.”

Percy’s hand lingered on the picture he’d just put up. You stood on a sandy shore with your arms spread and head tilted back, and you looked wholly in your element. 

He wondered what you would think of Montauk. 

“This was one of those times?” he asked. 

Luke nodded. “North Carolina. A year and a half in, I think. We missed the East Coast after being in the Midwest for so long, and naturally, she found a beach immediately.” His eyes softened. “She was always so happy around the water, even after she knew what it meant.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Finding out the thing you’ve always loved is the domain of the father who abandoned you is a little rough.” 

Luke always spoke with more nerve towards the gods than any other camper he knew. Funny, considering he was one of the first ones to tell him that names had power.

And he’d been acting weird since Percy got back from the quest. He thought maybe he was jealous, but Luke didn’t really seem like the jealous type—especially when he was already so cool. 

Then again, they did just come back from the brink of a possible world war. Percy should’ve been surprised more people weren’t acting weird. 

His attention drifted to the clock on the wall in the midst of his thoughts—Chiron’s last ditch effort in a camp full of time-blind kids—and his eyes widened. 

Percy muttered under his breath—Annabeth had taught him some Ancient Greek curse words on the road, and he was sure his mom would love them—and looked up at Luke. “Sorry, man. I’ve gotta go. Time really got away from me.” 

“I get it,” he nodded. “Have you gotten any better?” 

He glanced away bashfully. “Not really. But Beckendorf has the patience of a saint. Maybe someday I’ll make an actually functional sword.” 

Luke chuckled, though it was wistful. “Good luck. You mind if I stay here for a bit? I can put up some of her things.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “of course. Stay as long as you want.” 

Percy stopped once he got out of the door. Luke’s gaze was glued to a picture of you on the wall, his expression softer than he’d ever seen before at odds with something indistinguishable in his eyes. Again, Percy felt that all-encompassing dread, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He left before it could consume him, but the haunted look in Luke’s eyes didn’t leave his head for the rest of the day. 

-

You took in a deep breath of salty air. The sea breeze blew over you as waves gently rolled into shore, and you smiled. You never felt more like yourself than when you were at the beach, and when you and Luke were constantly on the run fighting for your lives, sometimes you desperately needed to feel like yourself. 

You exhaled long and slow. It had been a particularly rough week—Luke did his best patching up your shoulder, but it would definitely scar—and this was just what you needed to wind down before you started moving again. 

You and your mom went to Cape Cod a lot when you were growing up, and though this wasn’t anywhere close to the same, it made for an alright stand-in.

The click of a polaroid camera interrupted your peace, and you opened your eyes and turned your head to see the culprit. 

“And you made fun of me for constantly taking pictures,” you said wryly. 

Luke smiled. “I made fun of you for taking up valuable space in your bag to bring your camera with you. I can’t not take pictures of you—especially when you’re so photogenic.” 

“Flatterer.” 

“Not if it’s true,” he remarked. He held out the camera to you. “Wanna get any pictures of the sea? You’ve got a better eye than me.” 

“Well, the sea’s a better subject than me,” you said. “Hold onto it.” 

He chuckled and took it back, drying out the newly printed picture. “How’re you feeling, by the way? I know it’s been a hard few days.”  

“Never better,” you said. “I needed a break from the road.”

“I get why you wanted to stop here,” he said. “It’s… calming.”

“Isn’t it?” You spread your arms out, breathing in deep once more. “I always feel better out here. More free.”

Another camera click, and your smile grew. “How do you feel?” 

“Better too, surprisingly. But that might just be because we’re walking instead of running.” You heard his footsteps and he came up next to you. You took the picture he offered and chuckled. You had your head back and your arms spread, soaking up every bit of sun and sea air you could. 

“I look like a stock photo.” 

“Does that mean I can get a job as a photographer?” he asked. “We could use some extra cash.” 

“Half of the pictures are either random parts of nature or me,” you said. “Who’d buy those?” 

“Me,” Luke said. “But I don’t think that would help with our money problems.” 

“All this flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said. 

“It got me here,” he said. “I think it’s worked out pretty well.” 

You smiled as you looped arms with Luke, and after you gestured with your head, you started walking down the sand together. Whereas you always felt like you were blurting out the first thing that came to mind when you were around him, Luke always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. “Do you like it here?” 

Luke nodded. “It’s nice. I get why you like the water so much.” 

“At least one beach a week going forward now that we’re on the coast again, then,” you said. “Deal?” 

“Deal,” he agreed. 

“Good,” you said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to go back to Virginia Beach. Last time, those giant ant things ruined it for us.” 

“Gods,” Luke grumbled, and you felt him shiver. “Don’t remind me of those things. I’ll never forget what their poison smelled like—and I’ll never forgive them for ruining my favorite shirt.” 

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll get you a Red Sox one someday, and it’ll become your new favorite shirt.” 

Luke shook his head. “Your Boston baseball propaganda isn’t gonna work. I was raised as a Yankee.” 

“And I’m here to undo that awful brainwashing,” you said sagely. “Next time we go through Massachusetts, I’ll have to get you one. And we can stop by Cape Cod—I think being close to the water is good for my health.” 

“And I like seeing you happy,” he mused. “So I guess it works out for both of us.” 

You laughed. “We’ll have to stop at a music store before the day ends, too. I’ve nearly worn out my Cyndi Lauper tape, and I need to get some new ones. You should pick out an album you like too.h” 

“‘Course,” he said. “I think we’ve got some extra cash saved up. And if we have to—” 

“We shouldn’t steal anything yet,” you interrupted. “I don’t wanna get the cops on our backs so soon.” 

“You say that like I would get caught,” Luke remarked. “It’s literally in my genes. I’m making my father proud, and I’m helping you. I see no reason not to do it.” 

“Cool it,” you said. “We’re not becoming Bonnie and Clyde at the ripe old age of eleven.” 

“Fine.” You couldn’t see it, but you could sense his smile. “I’ll hold off. For now.” 

That got another laugh out of you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt like you’d been on the run for a week straight—this was the best break you could have asked for. Maybe the sea was good for your health, you thought. Or maybe it was just Luke. 

Either worked for you. 

-

Percy could hardly breathe as he stared down at the scorpion, slowly inching its way up his pants leg. It wasn’t every day one of your friends betrayed and tried to kill you in the woods, but this seemed like the year he started checking things off his bucket list. 

“So this was your plan all along,” he said, attention split between the pit scorpion and the traitor. “Gain my trust, send me to Tartarus, start a war for Kronos.” 

The air got colder, and Luke tilted his head. “You should be careful with names.”

“And you should do the job yourself,” he challenged. “You want to kill me? Fight me like a man.” 

“I’m not Ares,” he said tartly. “You can’t bait me.” 

“So you’re a coward too?” Red hot anger rose within him, and the words left him before he could really think about them. “Did you also lie about my sister? Got a hobby of killing Poseidon kids?”

“Zeus got her killed, Percy!” Luke yelled. There was something wild in his eyes as he gestured with his sword. “I loved her more than anything—I held her as she died, and your dad let it happen. If it weren’t for the gods, both her and Thalia would be alive!” 

Maybe it was a good thing Percy didn’t know that until now. If he knew the king of gods was responsible for his sister’s death, he would’ve gotten himself burnt to a crisp on Olympus. 

“This isn’t what my sister would have wanted,” he said. “She—”

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” His voice continued to rise. “You don’t know her— you don’t know what she would have wanted!” 

“She couldn’t have wanted this!” he exclaimed. Percy’s breath caught momentarily as the scorpion inched closer and he forced his muscles to remain as still as possible as his gaze flicked back over to Luke. “This isn’t the way to fix things, Luke. I promise.” 

He shook his head, and he could have been a son of Ares the way fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. “She died because of Zeus, Percy. She was so close to sixteen, and that meant she was a threat to his power. He sent monsters to kill her, and your dad could have saved her, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it. And y’know,” Luke huffed a laugh, cold and mirthless, “the same thing’s gonna happen to you.” 

His blood had turned to ice. “He knows the pain of losing a daughter. Why would he—” 

“Because they don’t care, Percy!” he yelled, his sword cutting through the air again. “All they care about is keeping their power and their position. Your dad would rather send you on a death quest than stop stroking his ego for one measly second. Hades sent monsters to kill Thalia, and Zeus sent monsters to kill your sister—they can’t punish each other, so they punish us, and the cycle will never stop until we make it stop.”

“And you think that this is the way to do it?” he asked desperately. “By betraying camp and all your friends? We’re in the same position as you are!” 

“And anyone that’s smart will join our cause,” Luke said. “Do you really think I’m the only one that’s upset with the gods? I’ve been here for five years—I’ve seen kids leave for the school year and never come back. I’ve seen kids die without ever being claimed. My own dad turned me away at every opportunity. Our numbers are bigger than you know, Percy.” 

“You say I don’t know my sister,” Percy said, “but I know her enough to know she wouldn’t want this. Not in her name. Not against our father.” 

“You don’t know her at all,” Luke said, voice trembling. “If she knew that Zeus killed her for nothing but paranoia over a bullshit prophecy, she would be fighting against the gods right beside me.” 

“I lost her once,” he continued, shaky but full of anger, “and then I got her back, just to lose her all over again. The gods will never know that kind of pain—if they did, they wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.” 

The scorpion was at his knee now. Percy was running out of time, and his mind was working in overdrive on how to get more, but he found himself rendered speechless. What could he say to a boy who’d lost everything? 

Luke was the lightning thief, he’d fully intended to kill Percy with those shoes, he meant to turn the gods against each other and raise Kronos, and now he was really trying to kill him.  

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

Percy thought he’d lost his mother, but now she was back. He’d met his father in person. He had a sister he’d never meet, that he would never be able to fully grieve. Luke loved her and grew up with her and grieved her twice.

Percy didn’t care—anyone who his sister loved couldn’t be a bad person. Not fully.  

“Please, Luke,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know how to solve it, but this isn’t the way. You think the gods are using you? Kronos is doing the exact same thing.” 

“You’re twelve, Percy, and you’re already the chosen one,” Luke said. “Hades and Ares would have both killed you if they got their way, and it was your job to stop a war between the gods because they couldn’t see beyond their egos. How is that fair to you?”  

“There was no other choice,” Percy insisted. “If either of them backed down, they would look weak. We’re the only ones that can do quests like this.” 

“Exactly,” he said. “They start petty fights that they can’t finish and it gets taken out on us. We have to be their heroes, and we have to praise them as we die.”

Percy remembered their bus exploding. Medusa, an innocent woman favored by Poseidon and punished by Athena for it. The endless souls in the Asphodel Fields, and even more waiting in line for their chance to be judged. Luke’s quest given to him by his father permanently scarring him, Thalia Grace sacrificing herself for her friends, his sister never getting the chance to see sixteen—Percy himself being used as a pawn to enact Kronos’s plan. 

“You don’t have to be a hero,” Luke continued, almost begging at this point. “You can join our cause—you can prove you’re so much more than the prophecies want you to be. Say the word and I’ll call it off.”

Percy wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of godly respect. He tricked Hades, insulted Zeus, and actually fought Ares. But his dad loved him—or loved his mom, at least. Annabeth’s determination and Grover’s steadfastness and all the friends he’d made at camp—all innocent children like himself. He couldn’t turn his back on that. 

Percy clenched his jaw. “I will never serve Kronos.”

Pain flashed in Luke’s dark eyes, but he shut it down just as soon. “So be it.”

He slashed his sword through the air and a ripple of darkness appeared, the void bleeding into the forest. 

“I really am sorry it came to this, Percy,” Luke said quietly. “But it’ll be quick. And that’s a bigger mercy than Zeus gave your sister.”

Luke disappeared into the darkness and it vanished soon after. Percy didn’t have time to think about his words—the scorpion had reached his thigh. Sixty seconds, Luke had said, then it was over. 

Percy had about five seconds to think of a plan before it lunged at him. He batted it away with one hand and uncapped his sword with the other, cutting the scorpion in half before it could reach the ground. 

He thought he did it. Then he looked at his hand, a red welt already sweltering on his palm, oozing sticky yellow liquid. 

Percy stumbled to the creek and submerged his hand, but nothing happened. He muttered a delusional prayer to his dad, then to his mother, then to you as he stumbled his way towards camp. Nymphs emerged from their trees, and he croaked a plea for help. 

As Percy collapsed, barely caught by nymphs on either side, he swore that he saw you. Did that mean he was dying? You had kind eyes like his mother, an aura of warmth unlike the feverish heat in his body, and it made the idea of it a lot less scary. 

He wondered if he’d meet you in Elysium. 

Percy reached a leaden arm out to you, mumbling your name despite his cottonmouth, and then his vision went black. 

[thegoldiehanson]

Nudist free-use family fantasy (per request) ❤️

In my family, there’s no such thing as clothes when we get home. As soon as any one of us steps through the door, we immediately take off all our clothes in the entranceway of our house. It first started when daddy and I got married and decided we wanted to be completely free in our home. We both wanted children and wanted our family to be the same way.

Daddy loved seeing me pregnant with our 2 kiddos, walking around with my huge swollen belly, and even more massive breasts! I didn’t think they could get any bigger, but I was wrong! They’d constantly drip milk on the floor when I walked around, but daddy didn’t mind cleaning it up. My breasts were always free for our kiddos to drink from whenever they wanted.

Daddy and I normalized our family seeing each other’s naked bodies, telling our son & daughter that this is the most natural way to be. That there’s no shame in nudity, our bodies are beautiful. Daddy and I were also so horny for each other that my nipples would almost always be hard and he would often have a boner when I was in the room. We normalized touching each other, no matter if we were alone or not. This is what grownups do, we told our son & daughter. In our house, if you have an urge, it’s okay to act on it.

When they were teenagers and their bodies became more adult, we noticed our son staring at our daughter constantly, and he always had a boner. He would playfully smack her ass when she walked by and she would smack his hard cock in return. We told them once they turn 18, they can join mommy & daddy’s sex, but until then they had to practice on each other.

For the next couple years, our son & daughter groped each other constantly. Sitting on the couch watching tv, I would stroke daddy’s cock while our daughter stroked her brother’s cock. He would grab his sister’s tits and suck on her nipples while she texted her friends. She would get on her knees in between his legs and suck his cock while he played video games.

They were used to seeing daddy & I fucking and wanted to try it themselves. I will never forget the look on their faces as they gave their virginity to each other ❤️ daddy and I were so proud of the loving family we made. From then on it was a regular thing to see our offspring making love to each other. One time, daddy was fucking me on the kitchen counter, and our son decided to make it a competition, to see who could last longer - so he lifted his sister onto the counter and started fucking her right next to us!

When they turned 18, they started touching me and daddy too, in fact on their 18th birthdays they both woke up and ran to our bedroom. For our son, he immediately latched onto my nipples and squeezed my huge breasts. His hard cock pressed against my thigh and I grabbed it and started stroking, while daddy was laying next to me. I told him “happy 18th birthday son, you’re officially a man now!” He moaned and said he couldn’t wait any longer, he’d been dying to know what mommy’s pussy felt like. He said he’d been fantasizing about sharing me with his dad for a long time, that I was such a good mommy who deserved TWO cocks inside her.

I slid over on top of daddy and grabbed his morning wood, and stuffed it into my ass. Then my son lifted my legs and touched my wet pussy, sliding his finger inside me while daddy slowly moved his huge cock in and out of my ass. My son’s erection looked even bigger now that it was about to go inside me. I guided his cock into my pussy and he let out a moan.

He immediately started pounding my tight pussy, greedy for it and totally giving into his urges. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m finally fucking the pussy that I came out of,” he moaned. “Mommy’s so tight…I can’t hold it for very long!” It only took a couple more minutes for him to release his young seed inside of me. “Oh my god mommy, you’re so hot. I’ve been dreaming about my 18th birthday ever since the first time I saw dad fuck you,” he panted.

On our daughter’s 18th birthday, it was much the same - she jumped into bed with her daddy & I and lay in between us. She reached both of her hands down and started rubbing my clit, and stroking daddy’s hard cock. Daddy said “happy 18th birthday baby,” and started making out with her and grabbing her breasts. Gradually he moved his hand down her beautiful body and started rubbing her pussy. He slid a finger inside and our daughter gasped. “Oh daddy, yes…that feels so good, it’s making me so wet!” I started sucking on her nipples while daddy slid another finger inside her tight pussy. “Mmm daddy, I’ve been admiring your huge cock for so long, I love seeing it get hard and have been a little jealous of mommy that she got to have your cock all to herself. Pleeeease put it inside me daddy, I need to feel you. Mommy, I want to see your pussy too, and I want to taste it at last.”

I guided our daughter in between my open legs, and she spread my pussy lips, kissing my clit. She knelt with her ass in the air while daddy got behind her, ready to fuck her doggy-style. She flicked her tongue around my clit while I looked up at her daddy, watching him slide his giant erection into her new 18-year old pussy. He rubbed his hands all over her perfect ass, grabbing it, pulling it towards him as thrust his cock as far inside her as possible. Her moans were muffled as she buried her face in my pussy, licking all over my folds and sucking my pussy lips. Daddy moaned and said “that looks so good, babygirl. I love seeing my two girls love each other like that. Show mommy how much you appreciate her pussy, baby. That’s where you came from.”

I moaned loudly as I got closer to cumming…looking up at her daddy, our eyes locking on each other, smiling because now our family was complete. We had passed the threshold and could now fully experience our ultimate familial bliss. I held our daughter’s head in place and grinded my pussy against her mouth as I screamed while cumming. Daddy spanked her ass repeatedly and said “good girl, making your mommy cum. Now you’re gonna make daddy cum.” He pounded her pussy hard and fast as her screams filled the room. With a final thrust, he came inside her, crying out “fuuuuuck yes, babygirl!” He slowly pulled his huge cock out and watched his cum leak out of her pussy.

And with that, our family became complete. Now we were all adults and could be completely free to touch each other whenever and wherever we wanted. My son and daughter regularly get in our open shower with me, soaping up my breasts, rubbing my body all over, and I do the same to them. Our daughter will sit her pussy down on daddy’s cock at any given time, and her brother will often see them and join in, sticking his huge young cock into her ass, or into her mouth while he pulls her hair. Our son will also grab me while I’m making dinner, bend me over and start fucking me. All of our bodies are completely shared with one another, made to be naked, doing whatever feels natural, free to grab, suck, or fuck at any time.

[visforvengeance]

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal. 

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin. 

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her. 

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets. 

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it. 

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless. 

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer. 

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death. 

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees. 

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while. 

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames. 

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants. 

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat. 

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours. 

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you. 

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her. 

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain. 

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed. 

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now. 

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would. 

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries. 

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way. 

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts. 

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you. 

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever. 

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high. 

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again. 

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters. 

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later. 

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke. 

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part. 

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you. 

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~ 

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?” 

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance. 

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now. 

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came. 

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

[shitsndgiggs]

Hello there i am new here and love your work so much, this is my first ever request so i hope you could consider writing when you have time.

So the oc and Kenan have know each other since child and their family are also close. Oc have a huge crush on Kenan so did him, but oc is not afraid of showing it so everyone around them friends and family knew about it. They never confess but their actions shows. Kenan have lots of girls pursuing him so oc have moments where she is vey jealous because Kenan is a kind hearted person and talks nicely to them, but Kenan somehow make up to it(?). But.. one day she saw him kiss a beautiful influencer and assume they are dating and oc distance herself from Kenan's life. And Kenan try go win her back and confess to each other.

A little angst with fluff and happy ending please. Thank you <3

JUST US - KENAN YILDIZ

… idk what to write here

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Growing up in a small town, the lines between family and friendship were often blurred. My family and Kenan’s were the epitome of that.

From playdates to family dinners, our lives were intertwined in ways that made it impossible to separate one from the other.

We were always together, whether we liked it or not. But as we grew older, what started as innocent childhood companionship evolved into something more complex—at least, for me.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized I had a crush on Kenan. Maybe it was when he defended me against a playground bully in third grade, or when he spent a whole weekend helping me finish a school project that was due on Monday.

Or perhaps it was the way he always had this stupid grin on his face whenever he saw me, like seeing me was the best part of his day. Whatever it was, my crush on him grew slowly, steadily, until it became impossible to ignore.

Unlike most people with a secret crush, I didn’t exactly try to hide it. I couldn’t help but blush whenever he was near, and I’d make up the most ridiculous excuses just to spend more time with him.

My friends teased me about it constantly, and our families noticed, too.

They’d exchange knowing looks whenever I gazed a little too long at him, or when I found some flimsy reason to sit next to him at the dinner table. It wasn’t a secret to anyone—except Kenan himself.

Despite my obvious affections, Kenan remained blissfully unaware. He was kind-hearted and warm, with an easygoing nature that drew people to him, especially girls.

And that was the problem.

Even though everyone knew how I felt about him, Kenan never seemed to catch on, or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.

It didn’t help that there were always girls pursuing him, drawn in by his charm and good looks. He never shied away from them, always speaking kindly, his warm nature making him a magnet for attention. I hated it.

Jealousy wasn’t a feeling I was proud of, but it was hard to avoid when Kenan seemed to have a new admirer every week.

He was nice to them, of course—too nice, in my opinion—and I often found myself seething silently as I watched him chat and laugh with girls who were far prettier and more confident than I was.

But just when I’d start to spiral into insecurity, Kenan would do something small but meaningful, like sending me a text to check in or inviting me over to hang out. It was his way of showing he still cared about me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted.

One time, after I had been particularly distant during a group outing, Kenan surprised me by showing up at my house with my favorite snacks and a dumb movie he knew I loved. We spent the entire evening on my couch, laughing until our sides hurt.

In those moments, it was easy to believe that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about me. But then I’d see him with another girl, and the doubts would creep back in.

The worst of it happened a few months ago. We were at a mutual friend’s birthday party when I saw him talking to a beautiful influencer who had recently moved to our town.

She was everything I wasn’t—gorgeous, sophisticated, and exuding a confidence that seemed effortless. I tried to stay away, to not let it bother me, but when I saw them kissing in a corner of the backyard, it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

I don’t remember much of what happened next. I left the party as quickly as I could, my mind reeling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. The next few weeks were a blur. I distanced myself from Kenan, avoiding him at all costs.

He tried to reach out multiple times, but I either ignored his calls or gave him the cold shoulder whenever he tried to talk to me in person. My heart couldn’t take it. If he had moved on with someone else, then I needed to let him go, even if it hurt like hell.

Kenan, however, was persistent. He’d show up at my house with lame excuses, like borrowing a book or asking for advice on something trivial.

Each time, I’d keep my answers short, making it clear that I didn’t want to talk. But he didn’t give up. It was like he couldn’t understand why I was pulling away, and the frustration was evident on his face.

Finally, one evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. He had shown up at my door again, this time with a sad smile and an apology for not calling ahead. I could see the concern etched on his face, but I was too exhausted to pretend everything was fine.

“Kenan, I really don’t have time for this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What happened, Y/N? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was laced with genuine confusion and concern, and it broke my heart even more.

I wanted to scream, to tell him everything, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I just shook my head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I need some space.”

His expression softened as he took a step closer. “Is this about that party? The one where I… kissed that girl?”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of it, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Why would that matter to me? You’re free to do whatever you want, Kenan.”

“But it does matter to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The truth was too painful to admit.

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you. That kiss… it didn’t mean anything. I was just trying to be polite. It’s nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. “What?”

He took a deep breath, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us. “Y/N, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. And then you started avoiding me, and I thought I’d lost my chance.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my mind struggling to process what he was saying. “You… you like me?”

Kenan’s gaze was intense as he nodded. “Yes, I do. More than you know. And seeing you pull away from me has been killing me. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I never did.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words finally hit me. All this time, I had been doubting his feelings, assuming the worst, when in reality, he had felt the same way about me all along.

“But… you never said anything,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his own voice breaking slightly. “Scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, that you’d realize you could do better. And then when you started pulling away, I thought maybe I was right.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks as I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. “You idiot,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Kenan’s arms tightened around me, holding me close as if he never wanted to let go. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. You’re the most important person in my life.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, letting the years of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings melt away.

When we finally pulled back, Kenan cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears.

“I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore,” he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m going to spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

My heart swelled with emotion as I nodded, a smile breaking through the tears. “I love you too, Kenan.”

He leaned in then, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was soft and tender, yet filled with all the passion and love we had kept buried for so long.

It was a kiss that spoke of promises and new beginnings, of a future where we no longer had to hide our feelings from each other.

When we finally pulled apart, Kenan rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, the sound light and carefree. “Probably as long as I’ve wanted you to.”

He chuckled, pulling me back into his arms. “Well, now we don’t have to wait anymore. We’re in this together, okay? No more hiding, no more misunderstandings. Just us.”

“Just us,” I repeated, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

[thesirencove]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ WILDFLOWER -- SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

hi everyone !! this is a fic i posted on a previous blog , that i since removed from said blog as i decided to focus on another topic so i created this blog so that i can once again share my works :) i've since edited this fic as i wrote it little bit ago !! let me know your thoughts on this one and enjoy <3 my requests are open and let me know if anyone would like a part two to this !

oh and grab some tissues .

sam winchester x fem!reader (romantic) // dean winchester x fem!reader (platonic)

summary: when a hunt goes wrong...

warnings: blood and bleeding , death , descriptions of being unable to breathe , descriptions of feeling worthless , sad sam :( , lots of angst and overall sad .

word count: 1.8k

it wasn’t meant to happen this way.

y/n and sam were supposed to live a long, happy life together. they were meant to hunt for a little while longer and then retire and live their happy little ‘apple pie life’ as dean trademarked it. they’d already talked about having kids and a dog and building their dream house together. they were supposed to be together until they were old and took their last breaths together. 

simply, together.

but sometimes things don’t go according to plan. just like the moment they were in right now.

sam was kneeling on the floor, covered in blood. not his own. hers. it soaked through his shirt and stained his face.  

“y/n please stay with me,” sam pleaded, holding her limp body in his arms, her shallow breaths barely audible for him to feel any sense of comfort. he was pressing down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. trying to stop her from dying. still, more of her blood poured out from god knows where. 

“i-’m sorr..y,” she croaked out. y/n could feel herself fading away. the oxygen wouldn’t fill her lungs properly and every one of her limbs were so, so tired. 

the hunt started out perfectly. y/n, sam, and dean were quick to figure out where the monster was and how to get rid of it. a nest of vampires, hiding in the woods, preying on the little town nearby. bodies had stacked up over the years, but it wasn’t until recently that it became suspicious. y/n happened to be the one to find the newspaper article. 

“guys! i found us a case!” she brought the newspaper clipping over to sam and dean so enthusiastically. she was so excited, so proud to have found a case on her own instead of relying on the winchester brothers to find one for them all. they saw the glint of her eyes and couldn’t say no. how could they, seeing how wide she was smiling?

so they went. they should have known it was too good to be true. the vampires were working with a pack of werewolves nearby. they were ambushed. sam and dean had been fighting off a pair of vampires when suddenly–

crack.

it hadn’t come from either of them. sam’s head whipped around to look at y/n, who was clutching her arm close to her chest as she continued fighting off the three monsters who’d grouped up on her. her lips were cut and he could see blood pouring out of a cut above her eye. the beginnings of a bruise stained her cheeks. sam’s vision went hazy, wanting to help her but being so afraid that he couldn’t move. it wasn’t the monsters that scared him. it was seeing y/n hurt. he was frozen in place.

it wasn’t even five seconds later when he saw the last standing werewolf swipe at y/n, eliciting a yelp from her. she swung her silver blade quickly after and the werewolf’s head rolled across the floor. his body dropped, thudding when it went down. 

she followed soon after. y/n dropped to her knees. sam finally snapped out of the trance he was stuck in, rushing to her side. the sound she made when her knees hit the floor rang in his ears as he caught her, pulling her into him. 

his hands were covered in blood as he held onto her. it wasn’t his blood. nor the werewolves. it was hers. her blood was pouring out, staining her shirt and his and both of their hands. it scared him. there was oh so much of it and sam was panicking. 

his y/n. his sunshine. his wildflower. 

she was bleeding out at an alarming rate and he couldn’t do anything. he felt useless, so utterly useless in this moment.

“hey, hey y/n. sweetheart stay with me. please stay with me,” sam practically begged her, as though it would make a difference for her current condition. his voice cracked as he yelled out for dean. for his big brother to do something to save her. his heart was cracking, if not already broken. the tears built and built, finally spilling over like an old dam that couldn’t contain the flood. 

y/n could barely keep her eyes open as she laid there, weakly grabbing onto sam’s arms. she looked down towards her wound. the deep, jagged lines from the werewolf’s claws painted her abdomen. she whimpered at the sight. it burned worse than anything she could have ever imagined but the scream she wanted to let out got stuck in her throat, only building on the agony she felt. 

and the blood. there was so much blood. 

too much of it.

dean rushed over to where sam was holding y/n in his arms, clutching her close to him, like a child who didn’t want to share his favorite plushie. he was holding her so firmly, scared that if he didn’t then she’d somehow disappear. that she’d die faster. he couldn’t lose her, what would he do with her gone? how could he continue to live? 

sam looked up at dean and they exchanged a look, prompting dean to run outside. y/n could faintly hear dean calling out for cas before the weak pounding of her blood became too loud. 

“sam,” y/n rasped, her voice weak. she couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down her cheek. sam didn’t say anything, barely acknowledged that she said his name, not wanting the reality to set in of the situation. not wanting to accept that y/n was dying. the love of his life was dying and he could do nothing about it. he felt so utterly useless, thinking about the countless lives he’d saved, and yet he couldn’t save his love. 

the wounds were too deep to patch up and the nearest hospital was 20 miles away.

“sam,” she repeated, more urgently this time, before subsiding into a minor coughing fit. the blood started coming out of her mouth as well at this point. 

 “shhh, don’t speak sweetheart. you’re going to be okay. it’ll be okay. dean’s going to get cas. he’s going to heal you. it’s going to be okay,” sam said frantically. he was assuring himself of this as much as he was y/n. but both of them knew that this was the end for her. if cas didn’t get here in time then she would be gone.

her breathing became shallow as the blood pooled in her lungs. she felt like she was drowning. falling deeper. and deeper. she felt herself panic and her heart trying to pump more blood, so she could breathe but it just couldn't.

“y/n please stay with me,” sam pleaded. 

“i-’m sorr..y,” she croaked out. 

“promise me, y/n. promise me you-you’ll hold on. promise me that you’ll recover and, and come back. that we’ll live a long and happy life together. the one that we-we..ve always dreamed o-f. with-with a little cottage in the woods. we’re going to have three kids. three of them and a dog,” he trailed off on that last word as he sobbed, stumbling over words as he couldn’t keep himself together. 

“i need you to promise me that.” he begged her once again.

“i promise. but only if you pro-mi..se me-” y/n trailed off, getting weaker with every word she said, “that you’ll move o-n. if-if i die, sam, i ne-ed you,” she gasped for air, “to move on.” sam shook his head, but y/n whispered a measly, ‘please.’ sam, looking into her glistening eyes, once so full of life and now fading from him, and nodded.

dean ran into the room, and sam whipped his head around towards him only to be met with a disappointing shake signaling that cas didn’t come. 

“h-hey dean,” y/n whispered, coughing yet again only for more blood to come out, spilled over her lips and staining them red.

“hey, crazy girl. you’re going to be okay. don’t go pulling a me on us here, alright? heaven and hell are too crowded for you to be joining them,” dean said, taking one of her hands in his and weakly smiling at her. she chuckled weakly, as much as she could, before looking at him again with sad eyes.

“tak-ke care of sa-am for me. and take ca..re of yourself for me, to..o.” dean nodded at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, one final goodbye for his closest friend and the girl he’d been so excited to see finally get married to sam.

that future was blurred now. no longer an option.

“i lo-ve you, sam” she croaked out one last time, giving him the best smile she could. she wanted him to remember her smile above anything.

“i love you too, wildflower,” sam sobbed, wiping a tear from her cheek and pressing one final kiss to her lips.

and so her heart slowed to a stop. her eyes became devoid of life. her body was fully limp. unmoving. unwavering. sam’s heart had stopped along with hers. 

a final tear made its way down her cheek, like the last fall of snow in winter. 

the flap of wings that they had all been praying to hear had finally come. but it was too late. too late to save her, too late to get married and have the kids they’d once dreamed about, too late to build a home together. too late. 

the sound that came next made dean wince. sams sobs had turned into such agony, such rage that he screamed out as he held the body of his now-dead lover. he screamed at cas, cursing at him, the outburst so unlike him that dean had to look away, squeezing his eyes shut. 

the screams turned to silent weeping as sam held y/n’s body closer to him than before, his flannel and shirt now soaked in her blood. her limp body shook in his arms as he cried. 

and cried. 

and cried.

until he couldn’t anymore. his cheeks and eyes were raw and red from crying. he felt so worthless in himself and in the fact that he couldn’t save her. that he couldn’t get her back. the chapter of their lives had closed, the next page blank. he kept looking into her eyes, so lifeless it terrified him. the girl who made everything she touched full of life was gone. 

he’d never be able to hold her again. never see her smile, or the light shine in her eyes. so many never’s and what if’s filled his brain over and over. every new thought that seeped into his mind was so loud. it was like the thoughts were never ending, until a final thought filled his head.

the sunshine was gone and his wildflower was dead and his heart was broken, and there was no way to fix any of it. but he’d find a way. somehow. no matter how long or what it took. he’d get her back.

[thewulf]

Good News Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Original Request - So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: Whew! Bless a lazy weekend, I've been able to crank these out. Please enjoy this tooth rotting fluff!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

Part 1

“You’re seriously going to do it?” Bradley’s voice dropped an octave as he asked his roommate on board the carrier a very serious question. They were few and far between, but he had to know. Jake hadn’t shut the hell up about you for the last six months. Bradley knew the two of you were serious when you moved across the country for him a year ago. He was transferred to Virginia, and you didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t let him go. So, you moved with him. Somehow you had Jake whipped beyond anything Bradley could’ve ever of dreamed from the man.

Jake smiled looking at the picture of the ring his dad had sent him on his phone. They were finally back in United States waters, and he had reception for the first time in weeks.

 He had ordered you engagement ring before he left and had his dad pick it up once it was ready. He only knew one thing, he wanted to marry the hell out of you. He was only reassured when he saw that beautiful face turn into a gigantic smile once you spotted him coming off the carrier. God, he loved you more than life itself.

“Tonight.” Jake nodded at his enemy turned good friend. After the dagger squad had dissolved they were both shipped off to Virginia while the rest of the squad was sent throughout the country. They made a truce in hopes of embarrassing everybody else out here. They were smart in doing so. Quickly, they became fast friends after their tumultuous beginning. But as Maverick said, near death brings everybody a bit closer.

“Tonight?” Bradley sat up from the bed he was lounging on surprise laced in his voice, “You didn’t mention that when you said you were going to propose a few weeks ago.” His eyes were nearly bugging from his head. Hell, he knew they were nearing their mid 30’s and it wasn’t weird to get married… it just surprised him. Especially coming from Jake. The one who used to flirt with anything that moved. But that was years ago. Years before you came around, “You sure?” Bradley asked wanting to make sure it was his best decision.

Jake nodded with a bright smile, “Never been so damn sure of anything in my life Rooster.” He clapped his friends back as he threw the bookbag over his shoulder, “Now, let’s get off this carrier.”

Bradley smile and nodded, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He was proud of his friend for taking that next step. It was never easy. But you made it so for him.

The two of them chatted and waited and chatted some more. They’d been docked for what felt like hours. It always took forever to disembark. No matter how well they prepped it always took what felt like decades to finally make it off. Everybody was terribly anxious to see their loved ones.

Finally, finally they were dismissed, and he was able to hold you. It was everything he needed and more. You were there. He was here. It was home. He was healed.

You would have sat in his lap on the ride back to your shared home had his parents not been driving in the front seat. So, you settled on snuggling up to him in the middle seat leaning your head on his shoulder. His parents were chatting away with their son as he mindlessly ran his fingers through your wavy hair. You were listening but you weren’t actually listening to the conversation. You were listening to his every heartbeat. His every breath. Smelling his Old Spice body wash and your favorite Tom Ford cologne that accented him perfectly. You were lost in taking him in. He was here. Finally, home. Finally.

His father let him know where he hid the ring in the house when he got some alone time with his son. His parents were throwing a welcome home party at your place, you’d always hosted. Jake just wanted to be home and his parents always insisted. Family was everything for them. The entirety of the Seresin clan flew out to Virginia Beach to welcome him home. Even some of your family made it over to welcome him back. As tired as he always was he was so grateful for the love his family gave him. He knew it was rare, so he never dreamed of pushing the love away. He was ever so thankful that you always understood and welcomed everybody with open arms. You always made them a priority.

Jake had decided to wait to ask you to marry him. Wait until everybody left for the night. Even until his parents left. He just wanted it to be you and him. He’d always dreamed of doing something big and grand, that was his style. But that wasn’t your style at all. A grand gesture would mortify you. You wanted something simple. He’d do anything for you. A simple gesture it was.

It was harder than he imagined waiting to propose to you. You didn’t seem to have a clue it was coming even though he pretty much told you earlier with the ‘even bigger news’ incoming. As smart and observant as you were this was something he absolutely adored about you. You’d miss the simplest things in front of you. Or you’d take something and overanalyze it into oblivion until it didn’t even make sense anymore. But he loved it. He loved the little blush that danced across your cheeks when the realization hit you. He loved the expressions your face always went through. Through and through, he loved you. There was nothing he had ever been so sure of. You. You were his end game.

He watched as you talked with almost every family member of his. How effortlessly you were able to hold a conversation when you needed to. He watched as all his brothers and sisters kids clung to you throughout the night. How easily you were able to play with them and shoo them off when needed. He was damn sure his heart nearly melted every time you made eye contact with him. You’d always look away quickly knowing you got caught. But he got caught as well and he didn’t give a damn. He loved watching you. Seeing you.

“Hey handsome,” You squeezed Jake’s side later on in the night after the cookout, “How are you holding up?”

He leaned into your touch. Shameless really. All he wanted to do is hold you. Touch you. Breathe you in. But his family made that really fucking hard to do that. He tried not to complain about it. He loved them dearly. They were always sure to try. How lucky was he? An incredible family and an even better person standing beside him.

“I’m just a bit tired.” He admitted to you. He never lied to you. Nor did you to him. Without much thought you gently ran your hands through his sculpted hair. You knew he didn’t care that you were messing up his hairstyle. Not when it was you. You felt the sigh escape his lips as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. He allowed himself to really be in the moment with you.

“I’m sorry honey.” You cooed in his ear. If you could you’d shoo them all away. But you knew better. They’d come all in from across the country for him. Both of you knew it was just another few hours and then you’d get your alone time. Your hour of bliss before the sleep inevitably took over.

His eyes opened seeing your soft eyes giving him a concerned look, “It’s alright Y/N.” He kissed your lips quicky to reassure you, “Just a few more hours then you’re all mine.” He whispered into your ear nibbling at its base just enough to tease you. He already had you squirming in his arms.

You would’ve whispered something obscene had his own mother not called out to you then, “Y/N! Dear! Do you mind helping me serve the desserts?” She asked in her thicker than molasses southern accent with a big white toothy grin on her face. You’d never dreamed of saying no to her.

You grinned, “Of course Alice, I’ll be right there.” You waved to her before turning to your boyfriend.

“Let me go help your momma.” You kissed his cheek before turning. He caught your arm before you could get too far away from him.

“Thank you. It means a lot to her.” He pulled you in for quick kiss on the forehead, “Which means a whole lot to me.”

“You know I like helping her.” You smiled feeling all the love from him in that moment. You felt so damn lucky that he was yours. All yours. Little did you know he was going to make that permanent in just a few hours. Oh, how he wished time would just skip forward.

“Thank you.” He grinned running a gentle hand down your arm. He needed to touch you. To feel you. Six months was far too long without his favorite person. His rock. The one he trusted the most. The one he needed the most. You.

“Course honey.” Your smile couldn’t fall. It felt surreal that he was actually home. You’d willed this day to be here ever since he stepped onto the carrier six months ago. Finally.

“I love you.” He kissed you one more before dropping your arm.

“Love ya handsome.” You waved before wandering off into the kitchen. Jake watched as your hair bounced and your dress swayed side to side. He was so damn happy he found you.

“We’ll pick you both up at eleven tomorrow for brunch with the family?” Alice asked as you and Jake walked his parents to the door. Your parents hadn’t made it much past ten before they left. Jake’s managed to be the last ones to stay. She insisted on helping you clean up. You yawned feeling the time hit you. It was nearing one in the morning. Far past your usual bedtime. Jake must’ve been a damn zombie by now. He normally slept for days after getting off a deployment.

“Sounds good mom. We’ll be ready.” He kissed her on the cheek. After he shook his dads hand. You didn’t catch the wink he tossed his son. He knew what Jake was planning. You were still as clueless as ever standing behind him admiring the cute little family interact.

“Sleep well Y/N.”

“You too Alice, Dave.” You couldn’t stop the second yawn that overcame you as you waved to them. Jake shut the door behind them quickly. Not waiting a second before turning towards you.

A devilish smile took over his features, “Finally.” He grinned before making a bee line towards you and scooping you up into his arms, “I missed you my love.”

“Jake.” You giggled in his arms. You weren’t complaining but this was new. He was always touchy, but this was different. It was needy. You loved it. He was all yours. Yours and yours only, “What’s gotten into you honey.” You looked up to him breath catching in your throat as you caught his eye. He was giving you that look. The one that told you everything. He was bearing his soul to you.

He shrugged after shifting his gaze to the unassuming box he left on the counter. The one that housed your ring. The one he got custom made with his grandma’s and your grandma’s diamond rings. Both of your mothers went with him to help him out. He knew you were going to love it, but damn was he suddenly nervous. He knew he hadn’t a thing to worry about. You were going to yes. He couldn’t help but to be nervous though. This was it. This was him committing to you. To taking those next steps. He wanted those things with you. To buy a home and make it yours together. To have children that look like the both of you. To raise them to be even better versions of both of you. To do this life together. He was nervous. But damn was he ready.

“I missed you. I missed you so much. I missed that beautiful face. That smart ass mouth. This gentle soul. I love you my darlin’.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. A much gentler and more relaxed one. So much slower and thoughtful. One that showed you just how much he loved you. His heart and soul were yours for the taking.

“I love you too.” You answered him when he broke the longing kiss. He walked you over to the kitchen island sitting you down on the barstool. Your eyes were glazed over with the love that shone out of you. Even then you still hadn’t a clue. This was one of the many reasons you had come to love him so deeply.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face, “Anybody ever told you how pretty you are? Most beautiful woman in the world?” That compliment and the look he was giving you could make any woman swoon. You’d be amiss if you didn’t blush violently at that.

“You have. All the time.” It came out as a whisper. He had the ability to do that to you. Make you nervous beyond belief. Make you feel like the most special human in the world. He makes sure to treat you as his world and so much more.

His grin widened as his eyes scanned your face. Beautiful. So utterly beautiful. He found you ethereal even. Without a flaw. See, the two of you hardly even fought. If you did it was because somebody was tired or failed to communicate. Both of you learned to worth through issues with words. Something you’d never found in a partner before him. He tried. And succeeded. And then blew your expectations out of the water. People prayed for a love like yours. God were you thankful.

“It’s true sweetheart.” He pulled the box over without you knowing. Still clueless as ever. His favorite human. He palmed the small ring box underneath snaking it behind his back. His mouth began to dry up as he realized what he was actually doing. God he wanted you more than ever. His girl.

Your cheeks warmed even more if they possibly could, “You’re too sweet on me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “I’d disagree with you sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek as he took a step in closer, “I’d argue that I’m not sweet enough. Being away for so long was awful. It made me realize how much you really truly meant and mean to me. You’re everything. It’s that simple. You’re my reason to get up. You my love. My dear. My sweets. My sweetheart. My everything.” He kissed your other cheek taking a second to get the next line straight.

It felt like your heart was going to drop out of your ass. He was always so sweet to you, but this was something more. Could he possibly be doing what you’d dreamed of for far too long? You quickly shook that thought out of your head as he continued. Leaving you utterly speechless.

“I love you so much sweetheart. And I know I’m ready to take the next step with you. I want to do this life with you. Build a home with you. Start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead now.

Oh. Shit. Maybe he really was? You slid forward in the barstool now fully awake. God you’d probably pass out he if really was proposing, “You do?” Your smile about made him pass out. The most genuine look. The happiest he’s probably ever seen you. And he did that. He made you smile like that.

“I do, if that’s what you want?” He paused waiting for some confirmation.

You took that as a chance to kiss him on the lips. He was inevitably going to move there next. You felt him smile into the kiss wrapping his arms around you lightly, “You’re my best girl. My favorite human. The best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/N. Will you marry me?” He asked taking a slight step back and kneeling down holding the most beautiful right in his hand.

You could only nod due to your complete lack of being able to form any words. You pulled him up for another long kiss trying to think of anything to say, something.

“One thousand times yes.” You whispered to him once you pulled away, only because you needed oxygen.

He pulled you so you were standing on his toes. Holding you tightly to his chest knowing you were most likely weak at the knees, “Mrs. Seresin has a nice ring to it.” He gleamed cupping your chin in one hand. Gently this time he pressed his lips to yours while sliding the ring on your finger with his other hand.

Looking down at the ring you were sure your cheeks were about to rip from the smile that came across your face, “Y/N Seresin.” You giggled admiring the most stunning engagement ring. He’d done more than you could’ve ever dreamed. Your man. Your forever man now.

He sucked in a breath admiring you, “That’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

You giggled hugging him close to you, “I love you so much Jake.”

He hugged you back, never wanting to let you go, “You have no idea darlin’. I love you too.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom

Request Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @chloeforde @rosiahills22 @dempy @the-romanian-is-bae @sarahjoestewy-blog

[agendabymooner]

about names: the show and tell || cl16 scenario (3)

dad!charles leclerc x mom!ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION OF OF LONG LINES AND NAMES AND THE LECLERC DAYCARE

Summary: The Leclerc boys and their names go hand in hand. OR times when Charles and his wife Aimee had to explain that their children’s names are meaningful. 

Scenario summary: PJ Leclerc’s kindergarten class calls for a family name show and tell — and who would make better presenters than his Uncle Pierre? OR the middle Leclerc child learns more about his namesakes as he and his parents continue to develop his school project. 

Content warning: Uncle Pierre Gasly, storyteller!Pierre, a very cooperative child (?), kids being kids, wholesome content, using a no-no word once, PJ Leclerc (OC) centred, appearances of Alain and Anthoine Leclerc (OC), brief appeaarance of Toto Wolff and Tilly Wolff (OFC), dad!Charles 🔛🔝

Note: I'm sorry I dipped y'all 😩 it's been hard- I've been trying to write but for some reason everything's going bad. In the meantime, enjoy this scenario xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

With his nose scrunched up in concentration, his hand gripped the jumbo-sized pencil and traced over the dotted letters shakily. Close. He was so close. 

He squinted slightly before pausing, looking around for a moment before he continued to pursue his goal— get this over with. And with a dot, he grinned at himself before turning to see Mademoiselle Julie approaching his table. His peers continued to work on their take-home handbooks, while he was the first to finish his writing. 

Mademoiselle Julie, the young homeroom teacher of his kindergarten class, wordlessly peered at his handiwork— shaky writing traced over the dotted lines — and beamed at him proudly as she complimented, “Bonne écriture, PJ!” Good writing, PJ! 

“Merci, Mademoiselle Julie!” PJ Leclerc continued to show his set of teeth, proud of himself for being complimented by his teacher. 

Mademoiselle Julie spread out the sheets of stickers that she held, showing the various kinds of colourful stickers as she asked, “What would you like for your handbook today?” 

The boy hummed quietly, his hazel eyes skimming through the sheets on her hands as they gleamed in joy. “McQueen, please!” 

“Oh? Cars?” Mademoiselle Julie chuckled before peeling the glossy sticker off its sheet, sticking it on the reminder writing that he wrote down today. “Your papa will like that, don’t you think so?” 

It was no surprise that everyone knew who PJ’s father was. Charles Leclerc continued to be a household name— one that was born and raised in the principality of Monaco that later on became Monaco’s pride. You weren’t from Monaco if you didn’t know who he is— and you were a disgrace if you didn’t understand his legacy and you live in Monaco. So for Mademoiselle Julie to mention PJ’s father wasn’t anything new. 

They treated the Leclerc children as generational royalties but respected them as kids in the same community as others. Charles got himself as involved as he could with his children’s education even if there was an ongoing season he needed to attend and participate. 

Normalcy was what he lacked in other parts of the world, being a Formula One driver and all, whereas he was nothing but a son of his mother, a father of five kids and a husband of his children’s mother in the principality.

His career was often mentioned in conversations, but that was only because his children were some of the proudest kids to have existed. They’d tell others that their father would take them driving and that their father was a driver — and they had every right to say so. It was a discussion that was welcomed but never encouraged to rub in the faces of the children. 

“No!” PJ giggled. “Da loves Lotso!” 

“I thought you liked Lotso?” Mademoiselle Julie brought up. 

“Yeah, but Da loves Lotso too! Me and Da loves Lotso!” 

“Well, maybe you can get him and your Maman to love McQueen too, PJ. Tell them you got a Cars sticker. It’s red like your Da’s car, no?” 

“Mon amour,” Charles called from the children’s study room, his face showing curiosity while he carried his youngest son, little Alain, in his arm while the other held an opened handbook. “Aimee?” 

One of their eldest kids, Jules, tugged on Aimee’s trousers lightly, “Maman. Da is calling you,” he announced quietly, turning back to his homework as Aimee looked up from the screen of her laptop. The Leclerc matriarch smiled gratefully at Jules before standing on her feet, departing from the family room across the hall to meet Charles halfway through. 

“Charles? What’s happening?” She asked, only for the aforementioned man to raise the handbook slightly. “That’s PJ’s handbook.”

“Yeah, and it says that there’s an email being sent today about an event,” Charles furrowed his brow. “Did you receive anything?” 

“I did, actually— I was going to mention it after dinner but it must’ve slipped off my mind,” Aimee watched her words carefully — not wanting Alain to hear her words, “fuc— silly Lando.” 

“Siwy Wando!” Alain mimicked.

“Exactly, darling. Silly Uncle Lando,” the parents laughed. 

“Work again?” Charles chuckled as Aimee rolled her eyes at the comment. 

“Try working behind the scenes and have drivers that refuse to be trained in the media,” Aimee responded with a huff, “not that you’d understand— you’re just as dense as Lando and Oscar at times.” 

Charles only laughed and shook his head. “Seriously, you were saying something about the email?” 

“Right,” Aimee nodded. “Julie sent an email today to the guardians about a presentation project for PJ’s class. It’s a show and tell.” 

“Oh,” Charles uttered, “that should be easy. We did that with Hervé and Jules before.” 

“It’s not even just that,” Aimee added, “Julie’s a new teacher and Herb and J’s teacher did a show and tell about careers right? She wants a presentation about family.” 

“Huh,” Charles said quietly. What did that even mean? 

“She said it could be anything,” Aimee continued, “I tried asking PJ if he had anything in mind— but what does a child know about complex factors of families?” 

“Amour,” Charles laughed. “He’s five. Did you maybe ask if he wants to talk about his uncles or aunts? Or even his grandparents?” 

They both stood there, silence comfortably setting the atmosphere between the two of them before Aimee came up with something. 

“What if—“ Aimee paused and pursed her lips, “both Jules and H asked about their names before. What if we talk about PJ’s name?” 

Charles looked at his wife in confusion, little Alain stared at his father before he babbled. Charles glanced at his son for a moment before looking at Aimee once more. 

“It only makes sense,” Aimee shrugged. “Since either of us are presenting to his peers and their other guardians— why don’t we talk about his names?” 

The Ferrari driver thought about it for a moment. His sons and their names meant a lot for the couple, with them being named after people that meant so much — people that both Charles and Aimee looked up to. 

Sacha ‘PJ’ Leclerc, much like his brothers, was named after the people that gave meaning to Charles and Aimee’s relationship and their lives way before the kids came along. It only makes sense that the couple answer the questions of who were the kids named after. 

Especially when PJ’s teacher, Julie, grew curious about the boy’s nickname. His name was Sacha yet the adults called him PJ— why? 

“Okay,” Charles nodded, “we can do that.” 

“One condition,” Charles continued, making Aimee nod. 

His slight scowl was mimicked by little Alain as Charles spoke, “I’m not messing with the glitter glues.” 

“No gwue!” Alain exclaimed as if he struggled with the glittery sticky material before.

“Whaaat~” Aimee giggled before rolling her eyes playfully. “So dramatic, you two are. And I thought you'd be like your Maman, Alan.” 

“Maman just called us dramatic, Alain,” Charles gasped playfully. “Silly Maman. We’re no drama queens! We just don’t like glitter glues!” 

“Bleh!” Alain stuck his tongue out. 

“Nuh uh, we don’t stick our tongue out to Maman, Alan bebe! Just say no glue, hm?” 

“No gwue, Maman.” 

The very first step of the project was to get PJ to cooperate and help his parents build the presentation. After all, it was his class’ show and tell— it was his project. 

The five-year-old was fast to agree. He was a saint of some sort, that little man. In comparison to his older brothers, Charles and Aimee never struggled to get him to listen and his calm demeanour was what made him distinct from the Leclerc boys. 

They always said that the middle children were the menaces to society. PJ’s cousin Tia Wolff was evidence of that. His aunt, Aimee’s sister Sylvie, was also a prime example of a middle-child menace. But PJ was nothing of the sort. He behaved whenever he was asked to behave. He did everything he was asked. 

So getting him to cooperate wasn’t all bad. He did need to stop making fun of his father for disliking the glitter glues though. 

Charles still remembered how he came to his driver's briefing a few races ago after making crafts with his kids at his motorhome. He also remembered how everyone laughed at the never-ending shimmering effect on his skin as he kept rubbing on them. Glitters were something that Charles swore he’d never touch ever again. 

Anyway.

As the deadline and the day of the presentation approached, everyone seemed to be invested in helping out with the project as well. Pascale and her other sons Arthur and Lorenzo visited almost every day and whenever they could, they’d drop some feedback.

Arthur was a useless piece of shit, as always. Charles wanted to be the best role model for his kids but if his younger brother kept saying that PJ’s first name Sacha came from Sriracha he wouldn’t be able to help himself and eventually set Arthur straight. 

When Charles returned from his meeting in Maranello, though, he was more than surprised to see his niece and nephews in his family room as they helped PJ set up the pictures on the trifold board. 

“Da!” Jules said, making the kids look up from the entryway as their eyes glimmered. 

“Oncle Shal!” His youngest nephew from Toto, Adelmo, exclaimed as he waved the glitter glue around. 

“Oh hi, Elmo and Tia,” Charles shot Jules a confused look as if to ask ‘Shouldn’t these kids be in England?’, only for the boy to shrug.

“Maman est dans la cuisine avec l'oncle Toto et la tante Tilly,” Maman is in the kitchen with Uncle Toto and Aunt Tilly. Jules told his father as Charles smiled gratefully. 

“And your brothers? Herb and the younger ones?” Charles asked.

PJ, still looking down at the board with his cousins Tia and Adelmo, replied aloud, “Hervé est en train de lire un livre. Alain et Anthoine sont avec Maman dans la cuisine. « Snacking », c'est ce que maman a dit.” Hervé is reading a book. Alain and Anthoine are with Maman in the kitchen. “Snacking” is what I think Maman said. 

“Ah, oui, merci Sacha,” Charles told his middle child before ruffling Jules’ curly hair before he walked off to find the adults in the kitchen. 

Charles then found his wife with her sister, Tilly, and her brother-in-law, Toto by the kitchen island. There on the counters sat Anthoine and Alain, munching on some crackers as they tried to keep up with the conversation they knew nothing of. 

Anthoine saw Charles immediately and exclaimed, “Maman! ‘s Da!” 

“Da!” Alain grinned. 

“Hallo, bébés,” Charles grinned before he reached out to peck them in the cheeks. He then kissed Aimee on the forehead, turning to look at his in-laws in the process as he nodded, “Tilly, Toto— I didn’t expect you guys to head to Monaco this early.”

Tilly chuckled, “Early vacation for all of us. We’re staying in the holiday home for a month, at least.”

“Ah! C'est très agréable,” that’s very nice. Charles nodded with a smile. “Are the kids okay with that?” 

Toto snorted, “They have to be.”

“Tia’s next races are taking place in France,” Tilly added. “Nice, actually. So it’s quite near if we just stayed here in the principality for the next few weekends.” 

“I honestly did not expect to have a full workshop in the family room,” Charles joked. “I was expecting to maybe have PJ working on his project but they just doubled in the room— none of them were even my twins.”

“We came over when Aimee mentioned the project,” Toto laughed. “I’m surprised you went ahead with the idea.”

“You know how much it means for us to talk about the kids’ names,” Charles shrugged.

“Well, pray tell,” Tilly gave them a puzzled look, “who’s going to present it? I assume you two would want to do it but—“

“Oh no, not us,” Charles and Aimee shook their heads as the Monegasque continued, “We have someone do it for us.”

Toto’s brows furrowed, “I don’t recall you guys asking me.” 

Aimee chuckled, “Not you. Silly Toto.”

“Siwwy Toto!” The adults turned at the twin toddlers as Alain and Anthoine synchronously mimicked Aimee.

But the Leclerc parents were right, they wanted the presentation to be perfect and they had the right man for the audience.

After all, the Alpine driver had always bragged about being the reason why Charles’ middle child got the nickname ‘PJ’.

“Hello, hello! Dear friends of PJ Leclerc and the parents of the friends of PJ Leclerc!”

Charles and Aimee sighed, hiding their faces in embarrassment as they stood at the back of the classroom with the rest of the parents and the homeroom teacher, Mademoiselle Julie. 

Charles and Aimee looked at each other, unsure if they should laugh or pity themselves as Pierre Gasly sat on the tiny chair at the front. 

The kids were sitting on the floor, facing the Alpine driver as the finished product — the trifold board — was displayed next to him to show the kids.

Pierre introduced himself, “I am Pierre Gasly. I am this boy’s,” he gestured to PJ who sat on the floor right in front of him, “godfather. And today—“

“But Monsieur,” a little girl piped up, raising her hand politely as Pierre paused and nodded for her to continue, “I thought you were a driver?” 

“He is, Claudia!” PJ exclaimed with a wide grin, making the parents at the back laugh. PJ then continued, “He drives for Alpine!”

“Alright, little P, let’s calm down,” Pierre giggled quietly. Then he answered the girl, Claudia as PJ called her, with, “Yes I am a driver like PJ’s dad, but right now I am here for PJ as his godfather.”

“Now, who here knows PJ as Sacha?” Most people, hell even the adults at the back, raised their hands as Pierre nodded, “Okay. Well, you see— PJ’s Maman and Papa gave him a reallyyyy reallyyyy long name that the hospital can’t even fit the whole thing in.”

Charles, who stood amongst the giggling parents, leaned over to his wife and whispered in her ear, “I told you that having Pierre do this is a poor idea, Ami.” 

“Shh,” Aimee laughed quietly, nudging Charles a little.

“But! They gave those names to PJ because they mean a lot,” Pierre pointed at the full name displayed as a header. “Now, Sacha- it means defender. PJ’s Papa said that PJ, when he was in his Maman’s little tummy, was quiet and a good boy. But he kicks hard like he could play football.” 

The kids giggled, PJ laughing along. 

“So, his Papa and Maman said that he is a gentle one, but he can be fierce- like a defending warrior!” Pierre told the class and showed emotions for the dramatic effect. The kids looked up at him in awe. “So they said that his name will be Sacha!” 

“But wait…” Pierre paused dramatically and looked around, “There is another name.” 

“Niki,” Pierre pointed at the middle name. “Who here has watched Formula One?” Everyone raised their hands. “Of course you have- this is Monaco! Anyway, Niki Lauda was a very good driver. He was one of the greatest Formula One drivers— PJ’s Maman and Papa looked up to Niki as he drove for both Scuderia Ferrari and McLaren.”

“Do you wanna know something?” Pierre leaned over as if he was going to whisper a secret, “PJ’s Maman is the goddaughter of Niki Lauda.” 

Meanwhile, at the back, Aimee was laughing quietly at Pierre’s dramatic presentation.

Charles gave her a puzzled look as Aimee looked up and murmured, “He can be a good preschool teacher if he has the patience for kids.” 

Charles snickered, “Good luck with that.”

“So of course… Sacha Niki… Oh, what’s that?” Pierre pointed at his own name. “Pierre.”

“That’s your name!” The boy next to PJ gasped and turned to look at the aforementioned boy, “PJ, your name is like his!” 

PJ eagerly nodded but didn’t say anymore as Pierre continued. “I have been his Papa’s very best friend since we were kids! That’s why I am PJ’s godfather and that is why they named him Pierre.”

“That’s so cool, PJ,” the other kids told the child, who blushed slightly at the attention given to him.

Pierre chuckled at this before he moved the children’s attention towards the last name. “Philippe,” he said, now watching the kids pay attention.

“PJ’s Maman had a grandfather that she loved the most,” Pierre explained to the kids. “PJ’s aunts and Maman love him so much and his name is Philip Hearth.” He pointed at the picture at the bottom of the  ‘Philippe’ header. 

There, a photo of a baby Aimee being held by her grandfather was displayed. At the bottom of it showed a portrait photo of Philip and his time at the F1 tracks and other factories of his company. 

“Philip owned Ferrari and McLaren,” Pierre nodded, “he was good friends with Enzo Ferrari and many famous drivers- in fact, he made some drivers’ careers possible by putting money into the teams and providing resources. He made dreams come true!” 

“PJ’s Maman loved her grandfather so much that she named PJ after him,” Pierre grinned. The way Pierre’s storytelling was heartwarming for both Charles and Aimee, as he had been enthusiastic about this whole ordeal— it showed them that their children meant a lot to Pierre. 

“And that’s it,” Pierre concluded. “That’s the story of the name of Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe. Now— who has some questions?” 

The question portion started there. And the Alpine driver was ready to conclude the presentation when Claudia raised her hand as Pierre nodded at her.

“If his name is Sacha…” Pierre nodded, encouraging the little girl to nod, “Then why is he called PJ?” 

Everyone seemed curious too. But Aimee and Charles both knew why he was called PJ rather than Sacha. 

It was at Pierre’s insistence that Sacha Leclerc was destined to be Pierre Junior. He had established this as soon as Aimee and Charles arrived from the hospital the day after Sacha was born. 

But Pierre’s answer was partially different from what had happened, “His Maman and Papa said that he is Pierre Junior! Like me!” 

Pierre grinned at Aimee and Charles’ baffled looks.

“The audacity,” Aimee scoffed.

Charles chuckled, “Oh, Mon Dieu.” 

They’d have to talk to Pierre about changing certain narratives. It was okay to lie to be a wingman for your best friend, but lying to the kids about what happened with PJ’s nickname? 

Yeah, he needed some talking to.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @hiireadstuff @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @scorpiomindfuck

[yourlocaltreesimp]

could you do yan legend and/or hyrule? i love your writing so much! ❤️

Both? Both.

TW: Yandere and all it’s accompanies (obsession, violence, etc)

Yan!Chain Headcannons

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Hyrule

Really sweet once you first met, definitely one that became your friend before shit began to spiral. The familiarity of his old guide made becoming close friends really easy.

Once he fully realised who exactly you were, however, platonic standards are thrown out the window. Chances are he’s latched to your side, constantly making sure you’re happy and healthy. Lord forbid he found out that you aren’t, he’d spend all his magic fixing your ailments to whatever degree of success before striking down whatever dared try and harm you.

He’ll hold your hand or give you a kiss when you need healing, savouring being the one to hold you

Love languages are probably Physical touch and Acts of service. Making sure to be close to you, to shield you from the horrid world he’s seen. He likes to know you’re close, that you’re there.

Not to say he’s adverse to singing your praises. He’d write hymns and gospels if you asked. Afterall, who was Hylia to think she was divine when you stood right there.

Keeping up my love of Fae!Hyrule he definitely thinks you’re married to some extent

To him, he’s utterly devoted to you, at your beck and call. He’d bring the greatest of warriors, including the very deity that traveled with the chain to their knees if you said the word. The world would burn to ash and yet he’d shield you from the fire if it ment you could be close. He’d fight drove after drove of monsters if it ment he could collapse into your arms at the end. And in turn you give your time and compassion, you grace him with your presence. You let him heal you not that there’s any other option and you let him fawn and you keep his gifts. That’s as good as married to him.

Definitely uses his magic to… pull some strings. Make his words more persuasive, make the colours shine a little brighter, make his words more alluring, make the blood on his clothes less noticeable. Your clothes are enchanted, your jewellery as well. Your food magicked to calm your nerves and ease your heart.

You’ve met his faerie sisters. They love you. They’d riot if you were hurt. They’d tell him if you ran off.

Not to mention that it’s good practice to gift the fae with silver jewellery for safe passage or protection (yeah i mentioned this in a post before, idc). If you so happened to do this, he’s sold. Done for. Any question of his feelings for you? Gone. He’d pierce his ears to don your trinkets, flaunt the necklaces, adore the bracelets. But goddesses above, if you got him a ring? Well my friend, you’ve sealed your fate. He’d flaunt it, proud of his successful courtship, if his divinity being pleased by him. No one can touch it, no damage will come to it, it will be just as pristine as when it was in your hands.

Probably not one to kidnap you per say, but would be confused if you didn’t want to come with him. You gave him your ring, that’s binding to humans isn’t it? Your his and he’s yours. Why would you want to leave? He has everything you want. And anything more you could possibly want, all you’d have to do is utter the words and it’s yours.

For nicknames, Love, Honey, Sweetheart, Flower, a variety of faerie nicknames

Legend

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Off the bat remembered your guidance. While this led to some shakiness in his trusting you. The second he realised you’re real and not some cruel imposter, that too is thrown right out.

Doesn’t spare you from the sarcasm, in fact, he’s right on your nerves. He itches for your own snarky comments and blows. Itches for your voice and your attention.

Again with the enchanted jewellery. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, whatever it is that you want, it’s yours. No questions asked.

Sleeps on you… and odd headcannon, but sprawls out completely over you like a starfish whenever he needs to sleep.

Love language is Quality time and Gift giving. Quietly letting you braid his hair or run errands side by side, getting you rings and clothes. Picking flowers to bring back to you while he’s on patrol. The quiet things. Lest someone find out his moth eaten heart still beats.

Protective to a T. Literally feral. Will bite a man.

Snide comments? Only from him, watch your back. Dirty look? Pulling you close and glaring right back. Directly rude? Hope you have enough rupees to foot a medical bill (do they have those? do now.) But if you’re the unlucky soul that lay a hand on his heart? I hope you have good locks.

Definitely keeping up with the long lived headcannon that animal traits stick to their respective people. Will make a home for you if you happen to land in his Hyrule. Idealises the quiet life with you, getting the life he never got. Loving parents, kids *cough* breeding kink *cough* , happy life, free of Hylia’s trials and falling through his own reality.

Would probably kidnap you, he isn’t loosing again. His poor heart, battered and beaten as it is won’t just let you walk out. Nope. Not on his watch. He knows every forest, every cave, every home in every village. You’re not going to up and leave him again.

Nicknames: Babe, Love, Beloved on special occasions

Not really one for using pet names infront of others, not until there’s a competition for your favour.

[fabled-fiction]

Mirror Image (Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader) ANGST

Summary: When Miguel and Jess find a new Spider to recruit, neither of them expected to find you. Someone from Miguel’s past that was long gone…just like you never expected to see his face again.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS, angst, talk of death, use od (Y/N), heavy angst

A/N: I didnt respond to the request cause it had two so I chose the one I liked most! Hope this meets expectations and breaks a few hearts 😈 (it also wouldnt lemme tag you 😭)

Request by @written-subs: “a kinda angst(?) fic where Miguel has lost his s/o right? And then he recruits a new spider and finds out its his s/o but in a universe where HE dies and they just stare at eachother in disbelief and lowkey wanna be with each other again but its not canon :(( and reader feels as if its betraying their miguel”

He would like to say that each Spider person chosen to join the spider society was a methodical, long thought out process.

That out of every thousand Spidermen, one was chosen.

But he would honestly be lying.

While there was a review process, where they evaluated a Spider’s abilities on a scale, it was honestly up to who piqued their interest first.

Like right now.

Jess and Miguel looked at the screen with interest.

The current Spider they were reviewing, was a tough one for sure. Probably one of the toughest that had been considered.

They had been a Spider for about seven years. Practically forced into the position due to the war that was going on on their Earth. You were drafted, and then chosen randomly to be genetically altered with Spider Venom in an attempt to make a super soldier.

It was very Earth-199999 esque. At first it almost made Miguel turn the page. He did not want to deal with a Spider that was from an Earth similar to that one. He could not deal with that headache.

But as the war continued, they became more cruel. Being the only successful Spider-Soldier, they wanted to run tests. Take blood, push your endurance and try to make you even more super. In their search to find out why you works, they pushed you away with their cruelty.

And that's when you truly became a Spiderperson.

“They’re tough. I think they’d be a useful asset.”

“You think they could follow orders?”

Jess stood there for a moment, looking over the files Layla was able to grab off your Earth. Everything was either classified, blacked out, or destroyed by you when you went rogue. She wasn’t sure if you would follow orders. You were soldier turned superhuman, turned vigilante. That was a story that told itself. You were a free agent - literally.

But she could feel your determination, even from dimensions away.

“I think they could.”

“We’ll go when their Earth hits o’three hundred.”

You had hit a dent in your plan.

While you had taken out three outposts, it seemed like they knew the next one you were planning on hitting. In retaliation they upped their security, and strengthened their towers to jam your signals. They had you between a rock and a hard place.

So right now, you were stuck.

Grabbing one of your monitors, you let out a guttural scream as you threw it into the wall.

It practically disintegrated into a million little pieces. The wall that it had hit had a sizable dent, with small cracks forming.

Closing out all your tabs, you sighed as you started at your screensaver. You felt your shoulders drop a little as you saw your reflection in the monitor.

Would he be proud? Or disappointed?

Before you could even reminisce, you felt the hairs on your arm stand.

Clicking a tab on the computer that turned it off completely, you quickly jumped up onto the ceiling. Pulling your mask down, you took in a deep breath as you watched the door get practically ripped off its hinges.

Two people walked in, and immediately you felt fear.

They were both Spider-Soldiers…or at least they looked like it. They didn’t have the uniform or the head gear…but instead were both in brightly colored spider themed outfits. It reminded you of when you broke off, you immediately designed your own to combat against your forced conformity.

You were mostly worried about the fact that they were successful in recreating the serum that made you.

“ The tracker says they’re here…are you sure this is their base?”

“ Look around Jess, this is obviously their base.”

Your heart stopped when you heard that voice.

And while it went against everything you’ve learned, everything that was drilled into your system, you acted on emotion. Screw the stealth tactic.

Shooting a web at the female Spider’s ankle, you yanked her up fast and hard so that she was dangling from her ankles.

“SPI-”

A quick web to the mouth shut her up.

Shooting a web at her wrists, you shot back up to tie her wrists to the ceiling as well. Hog tying her to the ceiling, you stared at her for a moment unknowingly making eye contact with her. She shook as she hung there, unsure now what to make of you.

Especially now, as your face lined up with her. You reached forward slowly, gripping onto her glasses and taking them off. She shook her head, breathing heavily as she watched you.

You moved with deadly accuracy. At first she was curious as to why her spidey-senses hadn’t alerted her to you. But as she watched you she noticed how you used your stature to your advantage. You moved like you were one with your surroundings - more so than any Spider they had recruited so far.

Were you…you weren’t even breathing!

As you descended behind the other Spider, your heart was going a mile a minute. Your own spider senses were flying off the handle, it was almost hard to concentrate.

You needed to see if it was actually him.

You were literal inches away from him when your lungs started to scream for air. You had been holding your breath for a solid few minutes. Your expanded lung capacity could only help you for so long.

The minute you had let out just the smallest bit of pressure from your chest, the Spider in front of you had whipped around.

His hand immediately went to your throat, lifting you up with ease.

With your emotions still at an all time high, you started to kick and scratch. His grip was tight, but not deadly. He was holding you to keep you in place, not to hurt you.

While still keeping you in the air, he brought you closer to his face. His head tilted as he watched you struggle, hanging onto the hand that held you tight. His senses were fighting yours. Both your frequencies screaming at eachother. He could see you flinching as well, and not at his grip.

Despite the ringing in your ears, every sense telling you to trust him you needed to see. The growing pit in your stomach felt like it was devouring every bit of energy you had and throwing out every emotion you had managed to bury in these last few years.

Reaching forward, you hand gripped the top of his mask and quickly pulled up.

As if he knew what you were doing, the minute you had a hold on his mask whatever was making him freeze pushed him into motion. He immediately threw you as far away from him as possible.

Both of you were holding the other’s mask.

And both of your hearts felt like they had stopped.

At first he couldn’t believe it. That you were standing right infront of him.

A warmth he hadn’t felt in his chest had slowly started to grow, spreading to his neck and his heart. His hands gripped themselves tightly, to keep him in place. Oh how he knew that he had to stand his ground, and cement himself in place despite the only thing he wanted to do was to run and hold you in his arms…again.

That's exactly what you wanted too. To have him hold you so so close that you were both almost one. Your heart couldn’t keep up with everything that was pumping through your veins right now. 

You thought you would never see him again. It was fact to you for the longest time. You had watched him get taken from you, slowly and painfully. He was the reason for everything. For you going rogue, becoming the vigilante that you were now and painstakingly taking down the organization that forced you to be the way that you were. They took everything from you, and you had promised to take everything from them.

You had promised him…

Just like he had promised you…

He remembers holding you, feeling your body quiver in his arms after a particularly rough encounter. You weren’t built for his world but you were in it anyway. 

He remembers wiping your tears away, the last thing he saw in your eyes was a yearning sadness.

And here he was again, like it was that terrible terrible day. Tears threatening to spill, a look of want filling them.

That made it worse. That you knew him in this world.

“Miguel..?” You called out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Oh how he missed that sound. The way you said his name.

It was the only thing he wanted to hear.

This had to be some cruel joke that the universe was playing on him. That the multiverse had decided would be his fate yet again.

He was stronger than this.

When you took a step towards him, he took a step back.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“Spider-Soldier…We’ve..Maybe we should explain on the way?”

The woman you had webbed up earlier was now standing beside you. Her hand being the anchor you needed to bring you back to reality. Reaching a hand up, you wiped away one of your tears that had fallen.

“You’re not him are you? You’re someone else entirely.”

“Yes…” 

Nodding, you swallowed as you turned to the woman. Giving her glasses back to her, you stood up straighter as the waves of emotion you were feeling began to bottle up.

“Explain what exactly? I have very important matters to attend to here.”

Walking back over to the computer, you turned it back on to try and distract yourself.

You were stupid to think that even for a moment he was back. Nothing in your life had ever been given to you. So to think that he was back without some catch? That was a thought the old you would have believed.

Oh to be that naive again.

Miguel and Jess watched from behind, as you continued to clack away. The way you had just sucked it all in, and became strict in two seconds really reminded Jess of Miguel…it was almost uncanny.

Looking over at him, she frowned when he saw the look on his face. Now that you weren’t looking at him, he let out a little emotion. 

The sadness in his eyes alone could weigh down multiverses.

Jess came to stand next to you, and saw the same look in his eyes that Miguel had. With a heavy heart, she put her hand over yours. It was shaking with every tape of the key, and you were sure if she hadn’t take your attention again another monitor would soon meet its fate

“I know this may be…alot right now but what we’re offering you could do some real good. You could help so many other Earths if you just hear us out.”

Stopping for a moment, you looked over at her and swallowed. You had so much to do here, for him and for yourself.

“My…Earth needs me though.”

Jess took a look over your screen. She could see that you were scrambling for an answer to an almost unsolvable problem. You were backed in a corner with now way out right now. She was sure it was the reason why there was a destroyed monitor on the other side of the room. 

“It looks like you could use some time away…come back at it with fresh eyes? Plus what we’re offering could be a little release of some of that building tension?”

Looking at her, you took in a small breath before pinching the bridge of your nose. Jess would be laughing right now at how uncanny you and Miguel acted oh so similar.

You two must’ve been inseparable on this Earth.

Miguel stood there, watching with a softened gaze. He wanted to go back. Because the longer he stood there the more his resolve was crumbling.

Especially now, as you looked back at him. He felt his heart break all over again.

“What even are you…inviting me too? You’re talking about Earths and you guys are…spider people?”

Miguel sighed, as he crossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was dragging you back into this.

…what if this took you away from him again?

“It's complicated to explain here…why don’t we take you back to headquarters, where we can show you the whole presentation.”

Crossing your arms, you looked back at the woman and then Miguel.

You desperately wanted to just run back with him. Your heart was betraying you, because all it took was one look and it felt like you were a stupid teenager again. Hiding behind the bleachers and sharing secret looks.

It was beating in your chest at the same speed it did when he had kissed you for the first time.

He must have known you on his…Earth. Your head was just barely piecing together the fact that multiverses were real. You remember one of your fellow soldiers talking about it…as a way to distract themselves from what was happening around them.

But now you had to catch up to the idea that he knew you too…or at least a version of you.

From the look in his eye that you barely managed to catch every time he would glance at you, you could tell thing had not ended well for you.

That little voice in the back of your head, the voice you usually listened to to get you through tough times started to speak up again.

That since he had known you on his Earth…maybe just maybe you could get to know him.

Like you knew your Miguel.

Miguel found himself having the same thoughts. The same shameful thoughts that your touch would be the same. Your pillow talk could possibly be the same, The way you said his name was, so why not anything else? 

Flashes of your Miguel grounded you though. That he was not yours, at least not here. You had already had your time with Miguel. And for some reason it was only that short amount of time.

You had already gotten your allotted amount of touches,

Kisses,

Caresses,

And time to just…hold one another.

“ (Y/N)...”

Looking at him, he was carefully watching you. Him saying your name in that beautifully pained voice confirmed it for you. That he had already had his time with you too.

The woman, gods you should have remembered her name he said it earlier, came to stand next to Miguel. Pressing a few buttons on her watch, suddenly a medley of light and color opened behind her. 

“It really would be easier to explain if you just came with us. I promise I will bring you back if you say no, but just hear us out.”

Tossing you a wristband, you swallowed before looking back at your computer.

It was probably best that you not be here for a few hours…at least thats what you were telling yourself just to let yourself off the hook for jumping at the chance to be with him again.

Sliding it on, you watched as the woman stepped through and it was just you and Miguel standing there with the portal painting him in a beautiful array.

Holding out his hand to you, you could see how his hand shook.

You also noticed how it stopped when you took it.

“Fine…”

After you took his hand you knew your fate was sealed.

That whatever this “Spider Society” was…you would accept.

Just to be near him again.

Even though it would hurt. That it would feel like your heart was getting ripped out over and over again.

A part of you hoped that it would stop…or numb after a while. But in the back of your mind you knew it wouldn’t

But at least you would get to see his face again.

[krizariel]

Stripper jason dating CEO Timmy :X

Big thank you to @galkyrie for indulging my midnight jaytim brainworms, helping me make sense of them and adding more to it. This is basically me putting together our convo, so not much of a fic.

FYI, for those who care about this: This AU ended up being switch because we can't help ourselves hence why I tagged both jaytim and timjay. Generally my AUs are more vague on that regard but on this one there's mention of both dynamics so figured, fair warning on this one.

They met at a small party thrown by Dickie and Kory (dating or married idk, whatever fits your fancy) for Dickie’s birthday. Tim is like a little brother to Dick and by extension, to Kory. Jay is close friends with Roy and Kory.

Somehow Tim and Jay had never crossed paths before; with Tim taking over higher responsibilities at the company because his father is ready to retire and leave it all up to him - he is proud of his son and despite whatever Tim says, Jack knows his son is more than ready - Tim has been busy and barely had time to socialize and well, have a life out of work.

They start talking, they hit it off pretty well. Somehow what they do for a living didn’t come up in their conversation because they were too busy talking about their hobbies, Star Trek, AngBang (Sauron has a ship and Jason couldn’t stop talking about it) and  whether or not smore’s count as dinner.

They exchanged numbers but Tim never got to call him again until one night he saw him performing at the club. It was Tim’s birthday and as a surprise, his friend dragged him to a popular stripclub. Roy worked as a bartender there so he’d slip them free drinks every now and then.

When the show started, the room went crazy. Apparently, Jason was very popular and indeed, he was amazing. At some point Jason actually noticed him and even waved at him while he was spinning on the pole.

Steph: I’m sorry… did Mr. Beefcake actually waved at you!? 

Tim: Looks like it

Steph: YOU KNOW HIM?

Tim: Well, remember that guy I told you about that I kinda liked, mayyyybe had a little crush on?...

Steph: YOUR CRUSH IS A STRIPPER?

Tim: I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PART!

Tim was a bit embarrassed and figured it was probably for the best that he never called him to ask him out, as he saw Jay work and all his audience ogling over him… he didn't know how he felt about dating a stripper. Plus, who knows if he’d even be interested… he must have many people behind him and flirting and looking like a sin incarnate is part of his job.

They met again out of work but Jay didn't even want to talk to him again because he figured Tim was just another uptight asshole who just judged Jay for his job so he didn't call him again and avoided him. Tim felt like a real asshole and figured it didn't harm to be friends... Jay was really cool and Tim enjoyed his time with him. Tim apologized for how he came through at the beginning.

Since then, they became friends, sometimes they would text or meet for coffee. It’s not dating - he tells himself-  and every time he’d make a stop by the stripclub to grab a drink, hang out with Roy and Kory at the bar, ~~maybe catch a glimpse of Jay as he danced, flirted and got flirted back~~ he was always reminded of it.

Sometimes he’d get a lapdance himself. What’s the harm…nothing is gonna happen anyway. But oddly enough they’d mostly talk about their day. Tim would be the kind of guy that would sit on his hands to not touch and Jason found it really cute. He enjoyed teasing the little guy.

Other times, Tim pays for a private room/dance to give Jay an hour break from being on the floor, because he notices he is tired. Jason was surprised at first because he thought Tim was finally pulling moves on him but nope, instead he wants nothing but to give him a break and spend time with him, pulling his laptop to watch Star Trek since Jason hadn’t watched it and was interested. Jason just kept falling and falling for Tim’s little gestures. He knew Tim found him attractive, it was obvious, but he was always the proper guy, never making any advances, just making Jason feel cared… which WAS WORSE! because he was starting to imagine it was Tim instead of those men or women who’d he’d dance for. Jay just wanted Tim to fucking snap and fuck him senseless in that stupid couch from the private room. Meanwhile, Tim was starting to finally stop being in denial and was working out the courage to ask Jay on a date because he knows he caught feelings hard.

The next time Tim paid for a private dance, Jay was having none of it. He was going to put on a show and was determined to make Tim snap. 

Jason, rolling his hips so his abs are almost brushing Tim's face: who'd think a CEO would be so timid … (Art here )

All the while Tim’s hands are hovering over his skin and not yet touching. Jason's kind of expecting him to get aggressive, or super eager, once he does touch him, but Tim's almost reverent when his fingertips brush along his outer thighs. Tim really -really- wanted to ask Jason out first but he is just about to lose it. And he does, eventually, snap and fuck Jason senseless on the couch. While they are cuddling Tim finally tells him he has been meaning to work up the courage to ask him out... Tim just tells him he wants to date him for real, he deserves to be dined and wined and maybe they are doing all this out of order… and Jason doesn't know how to respond because how is this man so damn cute and yet so savage. Jason asks him if he is sure… he doesn’t want this to be a on-time thing but he’d understand. Most of his previous lovers have ended quickly because they tried to pull the “savior” card, couldn’t get past what he does for a living and he doesn’t have plans to change this for anyone. But Tim is sure, he thought about what this means and he really wants to try if Jay will have him. Tim brings Jason flowers when he picks him up for the date and opens his car door for him. Just total romantic shit that Jason should be too jaded to fall for, but...it's Tim.

So it works on him, because he's already gone on Tim.

By the fourth course Jason's already daydreaming about peeling Tim out of his fancy suit and having his way with him on whatever stupid fancy couch he has at his penthouse. When they get back to Tim's place and Jason eases himself onto the couch and pats his lap like: I think it's your turn to be the one in my lap Tim: hope I don't need to dance because let me tell you already, I suck. But Jay walks him through it, gives him directions and suddenly Tim is taking orders. He finds he likes giving away control if its Jay.

For a while they were dating secretly but it was just because Tim didn't want the inevitable attention on their relationship and wanted to have privacy for them to develop their relationship first. He respected Jay’s job, he did it because he liked it and he was certainly amazing at it - but then Tim realized Jay might not be ok with Tim always introducing him as a friend even among their close friends because he thinks Tim is ashamed so he took Jay as his date to a Wayne gala. And of course people around Tim take it as a license to badmouth Jay and mock Tim by insinuating they had seen all there is to Jay (since some of them apparently went to the strip club Jay worked at). Jay was actually very charmed with Tim because unlike other boyfriends he’s had, Tim didn’t try to make him quit his job. Truly it took a lot from Tim at the beginning to get used to Jay dancing and everyone ogling over him… sometimes some men or women would recognize him while they were on a date and talk so amicably with him essentially ignoring Tim’s presence…but Tim focused on the fact that only Tim got to see how Jay sang while he cooked; how he genuinely laughed like a dork; how he screamed Tim’s name when he reached climax, how he slept like a starfish, etc, and slowly found he loved that more than any jealousy or insecurity he could feel.

and if you missed it, timjay art here