#<-i think i’m going to start using that tag

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 15

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.7k

Note : I have a lot on my inbox and I haven’t been replying a lot lately, but I will go through them tomorrow! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Name a Price”

Tuesday.

You had said it all—every bitter feeling, every thread of anger that festered so deep inside you that you barely knew where you ended and it began. Alex hadn’t interrupted, hadn’t even shifted in her seat.

She just sat there beside you, listening like she did the first time.

Not as someone who pitied you— but as a friend.

For a while, she didn’t say anything. 

You stared at the glass case in front of you, the one holding Bucky’s war uniform— a symbol of his past that he was still piecing together.

You began to wonder if he’d been someone else back then— someone untouched by Hydra’s corruption. 

But you knew better. That uniform belonged to a man already carrying scars from war you couldn’t begin to fathom. Hydra just amplified it, took advantage of it, added to it.

“I’m not defending Bucky,” Alex finally spoke, “But let me ask you something—hypothetically. If you were still with him, and he somehow forgot all about his Winter Soldier days, would you remind him?”

What?

You turned to her sharply, mouth agape with shock. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m not trying to be fair,” she replied calmly, “it was just a hypothetical question.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “But that’s neither here nor there,” you muttered, looking away.

“Is it?” Alex pressed, her tone patient but unrelenting. “The only difference I see is scale.”

Her words lingered in your brain like a disease spreading. You wanted to snap at her, to tell her it wasn’t the same thing at all, but… wasn’t it?

“Well,” you said, your voice faltering a little, your conviction a little less absolute. “It’s not the same,” you insisted. “It’s a painful memory for him, and he wouldn’t know how to process it. I wouldn’t want to…”

Your voice trailed off, realising your answer.

The truth— the truth was that you wouldn’t tell him. 

You wouldn’t tell him because you couldn’t bear to see the pain, to see the humanity ripped away again. You wouldn’t be able to look at the way it would twist his beautiful blue eyes and pull him back into the darkness he’d spent so long trying to climb out of. You wouldn’t tell him because you didn’t think you could survive watching him rip himself apart, questioning his very existence, his place in the world.

But was that fair? Could you make that choice for him?

Alex’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts. “Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?”

You flinched, feeling the words hit like a punch. 

“It wouldn’t be my place to give it to him,” you said, your tone harsher than you intended— like it was your last line of defence. 

“So you’d be complicit,” Alex said bluntly.

That word stunned you. It froze you in place.

Complicit.

You felt your chest tighten, your breath stopping for a split second. 

Complicit. 

Like Yelena.

The realisation struck you like a punch to the gut. 

Even as you tried to tend to the wounds, you still held a grudge against Yelena for what she’d done, for keeping the truth from you. You hated the way she had looked at you with pity in her eyes. You hated that she’d known all along. You hated that she knew when the truth came out, it would destroy you. 

But now, you realised, if you were in Yelena’s shoes, wouldn’t you have done the exact same thing?

“And how do you think he’d feel if he found out the way you did?” Alex continued quietly.

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away. 

You didn’t have to imagine it. You already knew— you knew exactly how he’d feel.

He’d feel like the ground had been ripped out from under him, like the air had been stolen from his lungs. He’d feel betrayed. Hurt. 

Like his entire world was a lie.

Just like you had.

You loved Alex— she was your friend— but you hated how exposed you felt, how easily her words broke down the walls you've built around yourself.

“It’s not that simple,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know,” Alex replied, she put her hand on yours, trying to keep you steady. “But I think… Bucky did what he did out of love. It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t make it wrong either. It makes it human.”

“So what?” You almost snapped if not for the stray sob that escaped your mouth. “I’m just supposed to forgive him? Pretend like it’s all okay because he meant well?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to hurt.” She paused, her eyes holding yours. “But ask yourself this: what’s holding on to this anger costing you?”

You knew exactly what it cost you: it cost you your happiness, and his.

—

When you stepped into your apartment, you saw him.

Bucky stood in the kitchen, his back turned to you, shoulders tense he moved around the stove. The soft clatter of utensils and the low hiss of simmering liquor on the burner made your apartment feel like him. 

The scent was rich, warm, and familiar. It was your favourite dish. 

On the table nearby, your clear vase was now home to a bouquet of flowers, your favourite flowers— the ones he always teased you about loving because they never lasted long. You’d playfully huff, telling him it bloomed so beautifully in the short time it had lived. 

They were arranged with painstaking care—one you knew Bucky was capable of. The petals were flawless, the colours vibrant, as if he’d combed through hundreds of blooms to find the most perfect ones.  

“Hey,” he said softly. He turned to face you, his movements careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile truce between you. 

When his eyes found yours, a tentative smile curved his lips. His voice was different— gentle, stripped of the defensive edge you had expected.

Your breath hitched.

You’d imagined this moment countless times while you were laying in the hospital bed. 

In some versions, your fury took centre stage, unleashed on him like a storm. In others, the anger had dulled, leaving only an all- consuming sadness, refusing to acknowledge he existed all together. 

You had breached for him to plead, to beg. But this? This peace, this tenderness—it wasn’t what you’d prepared for. 

“Hi,” you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It felt heavy, like the first crack in a dam threatening to spill. You closed the door behind you, and walked to the dinner table, sitting down before your knees gave out.

Bucky turned back to the stove, setting the spoon down, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. He wiped his hands on a towel before walking over to the table. 

His movements were careful, like a man walking a tightrope. “I didn’t want you to come back to… an empty home. Not again,” he murmured, his hand raking through his hair, as it always did when he was anxious. “So I thought I’d, uh, take care of the place. Until you came back. If you came back.”

You stared at him, then at his careful effort he’d put into making the apartment feel welcoming. After all this time, your home didn’t feel yours anymore— not entirely.. It felt like it belonged to both of you. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said finally, your voice trembling. 

“I know,” he said, his voice barely holding steady. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since the hospital, there was no mask, no shield. No defences raised, no excuses. “But I wanted to.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was an invitation, not a deflection.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, breaking the moment as he turned back to the stove.

You nodded, fingers brushing over the soft petals of the flowers. Questions swirled in your mind—so many questions, accusations, words you’d rehearsed over and over. But you didn’t say any of them. Instead, you let him take care of you as you once did— you let him finish dinner.  

When he finally brought the plates over, he sat across from you, his hands resting on his knees like he was bracing for impact. You stared at the food, then at him.

“Thank you,” you said. Picking up your fork felt… comforting. It felt like home.

“I can go,” he said suddenly, almost panicked. “I’ll do the dishes and leave.”

“No,” you said quickly, the word surprising even yourself. Your chest tightened as you recalled your conversation with Alex, her reminder that he was human, a reminder that healing could only start if you accepted that he could make mistakes. You set your fork down and met his eyes. “I’m ready to talk.”

Bucky hesitated, his fingers tracing anxious patterns along the table. His muscles tightened, his eyes fixed downward as if the weight of what he was about to say could shatter everything between you. “I don’t… I don’t know where to start.”

You swallowed, the lump forming in your throat. You forced yourself to breathe through it. 

The thought of finally hearing him out was terrifying, but you knew you owed it to yourself. “I don’t care where you start,” you said gently.

His hand stilled in a grip that held the table’s edge a little too tightly. “I know you know I wasn’t always this w-way. This perfect person you’ve known these past few months… I’ve always wanted to be him, for you.”

His words hit you like a wave, the sincerity pulling at your heartstrings. 

“I never needed you to be perfect, Bucky,” you said, the tremble in your tone almost taking over, “I just needed you to be honest.”

He lifted his gaze then, his eyes clouded with regret, pain, and mostly— shame. “How could I?” He murmured, his voice cracking, “For so long, I thought I was protecting you by keeping parts of myself locked away. By being… distant. I thought that if I didn’t let you get too close, you’d be better off. Safer. I didn’t… I didn’t know how t-to justify this change.”

“But why?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Why did you think I couldn’t handle it? Why didn’t you trust me enough to let me in?”

He flinched at your tone, his shoulders dropping as if the question had drained him. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking before answering. “Because I didn’t think I deserved you.” He looked at you then, his eyes so full of pain. “I told myself you deserved someone whole, someone who wasn’t… broken. And I thought that if I kept my distance, you would hate me. But you didn’t. Not until… not until now.”

But he was wrong. You didn’t hate him— you never could. You hated that he lied, But him? No, you could never bring yourself to hate him.

“So you pushed me away,” you said quietly, a confirmation of what you knew all along.

He nodded, lI thought I could keep my distance and pretend like it was for the best. But every time I was around you, I felt this… like I couldn’t breathe.”

There it was again. 

He couldn’t breathe around you, he admitted time and again. But not because he hated you. Not because he found your presence suffocating.

It was because you were so damn precious to him that the very thought of sharing the same air as you felt like a privilege he hadn’t earned.

“Instead of facing it,” he continued, “I built a wall around myself.”

Today, his words weren’t excuses; they were admissions. Every letter felt like it cost him a piece of himself.

“I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I know I can’t undo that. But when you lost your memory… I don’t know. It felt like I had this chance to—to start over. To be the man you deserved. To show you the kind of love I’ve always wanted to give you.”

You blinked back tears. It was like piecing together the puzzle of your past, one fragment of pain at a time. “But you didn’t think to tell me?” you asked, “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

A pang guilt crossed his face, his mouth falling into a frown. “I should have,” he admitted, “I should’ve told you everything from the start. But I was so scared that if you knew, you’d see the worst of me. That you’d hate me for it. And losing you… I couldn’t handle... couldn’t think….”

You wanted to yell at him, to tell him how much his silence had hurt you, how it had made you question everything. But you also understood, in a way that only love could explain. Alex’s little thought experiment made you connect to his fear— the paralysing fear of losing that meant so much to you. 

“I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t hurt,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t go back to the way things were before, Bucky. No more lies, no more walls. If we’re going to try this— I need to know all of you. The good, the bad, the broken. All of it.”

His eyes widened.

A second chance—after everything he’d hidden from you? 

It seemed impossible— yet here you were, offering it to him.

He hesitated, then reached for your hand, still not believing that he deserved your touch.

When his trembling fingers brushed against yours, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you turned your hand, weaving your fingers through his.

“I promise,” he said, “I’ll be better. I’ll be honest. No more walls, no more hiding.”

His fingers tightened around yours, afraid you might still let go, afraid you might change your mind. 

But you held on, your grip firm “I don’t need you to be perfect,” you repeated. “I just need you to be honest. I need you to let me in.”

His breath faltered, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing that could keep him tethered to this earth. “I’ll let you in,” his voice broke. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you made the right choice.”

As you sat there holding his hand, you felt the presence of something stronger than fear—hope.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked

Your heartbeat quickened, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his request. 

For a moment, you saw it—the life you both wanted, the way it could feel so right, so safe, in his arms. And yet, the cracks of what you’d been through together were still there. The answer that rose within you wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was clear.

“No.”

The word left your lips gently, but firmly. His thumb froze against your skin, his body tensing. The faintest flicker of hurt crossed his eyes. 

He opened his mouth to apologise, but before he could, you interrupted him.

“I’m not saying no forever,” you said, “But I want to take things slow. I need to trust that this—whatever we’re building now—isn’t just us rushing to cover up the hurt. I need to know it’s real.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll go as slow as you need,” he said.

He leaned back slightly, letting his fingers slip from yours.

There was no more resentment, no bitterness— only understanding. 

The two of you continued eating in silence, exchanging glances that lingered just a little longer than usual, small, subtle smiles that promised a fragile piece. Each moment felt like a step forward, like a rebuilding of trust, brick by brick, piece by piece.

When the meal was over, he stood to clear the dishes. As he walked past your chair, he paused. His fingers brushed against your shoulder, a fleeting touch. It wasn’t possessive or pleading anymore. Instead, it was a quiet reminder. I’m here. I’m staying. I’m not going to hide anymore.

And for the first time, you truly believed him. Not because he’d said the right thing, not because he was perfect. But because he was trying. 

Because he was human, and he finally saw himself that way. 

-To be continued…

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[sturnina]

Rule number one

Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

— tags;; drug use, a lot of curse words, no use of y/n, arguments, angst

— wc;; 1.7k

— author‘s note;; my take on dealer!chris since I find it concerning that people think it‘s a good idea for him to be a druggie, hope you enjoy <3

Rule number one is clear. You are aware of it, Chris is aware of it, everyone knows. The dealer does not take their own stuff. Because what happens then? It goes down way too fast. It is too dangerous.

Everyone knows. With an almost infinite supply of more, always more, it is a risk you cannot take.

And yet, you’re here. Standing in front of Chris, with a deep and dark pit in your stomach. Fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated, and his heart is racing—you can feel it through his shirt when you press your hand against his chest. He mutters something incoherent, a smile dripping from his lips.

“What was it?” you mumble, more to yourself. At least you’re alone with him, away from his brothers or customers. “What did you take?” you ask again, louder this time while gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you.

No. Wrong approach. Violence doesn’t help. But fuck, you need to know what it was.

“Was it K? Ketamine? Chris, did you take Ketamine?” you ask, slowly rubbing his shoulders. Oh, please let it be Ketamine.

He laughs and launches forward, embracing you tightly. “Shush Ma, you’re making me all worried,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s alright. It will be alright, trust me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens while the machinery in your mind runs at full speed. Racing heartbeat. Emotional closeness. Dizziness maybe? From the way he is swaying, you can tell he is more than a little lightheaded. **

“What do you feel?” you ask him, pulling away a little to look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you disoriented? Drowsy?”

Chris shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his voice getting a slight slurred edge.

“Do you have a headache? Or an increased appetite?”

“No?” His voice is disinterested—he clearly could not care less. Unfortunately, this is all you care about at the moment. Increased body temperature, sweating, slurred speech…

“Chris, did you take MDMA?”

“Mmh…” he says, pulling you close again and peppering kisses to your head. “No, it was a longer name…”

“Ecstasy, Chris.” A slight undertone of desperation lies in your voice. How does he not remember the simplest things? “MDMA is Ecstasy. Did you take it or not?”

“Why does it matter?” he asks, pulling away to look at you. His movements are unpredictable and confused—clearly, he does not see the way you do right now. Even if just through his energy. “Come on, let’s go back inside and have fun. Dance with me, pretty girl, yeah?”

He grabs your hands, but you refuse. “You can’t go back in there,” you say sternly.

“But the party isn’t over,” he complains. “I still gotta dance… and deal.”

“You can’t. Deal, I mean.” A lump forms in your throat at the confused look he shoots at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What? Sure I can! Look, I still have-” The second he pulls out a small bottle of pills, you snatch it out of his hand. And you were right—it’s X, MDMA, clarity, whatever you want to call it.

“Chris you have to stop dealing.”

“I know you’re always worried about me, Ma,” he says with a sloppy grin. “But you know I have everything under control. No one’s going to get too dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you sigh, stepping closer. “Chris, you have to stop dealing. You broke rule number one. You have a practically infinite supply of drugs, and you just started taking them. What do you think is happening now?”

He frowns, clearly having difficulties concentrating. Fuck, how long does Ecstasy last? You go through your memory, trying to find anything about it. From one up to… was it five? Six hours? Fuck.

“We’re going,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room you searched for shelter from the party.

The second you step outside, into the main area, the music clogs up your ears. Smoke burns in your lungs, mixed with the smells of alcohol and sweat. You’ve never been a fan of parties like this, but you came with Chris more and more often, wanting to look out for him—even though you wouldn’t be able to do anything in an extreme case.

But today, you’re infinitely grateful for having come with him. Who else would force him to go home and not take another pill? His brothers don’t even know what’s going on behind the scenes, he’s taken care of that.

Back at your car, you force him into the passenger seat. Now looking at him, restlessly playing with the decoration on your glovebox, you’re almost relieved he did it. Just because it means he has to stop dealing. As soon as he’s sober, he’ll realise that too.

After getting into the driver’s seat, you lock the doors and reach out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” he asks, pulling out his iPhone.

“Not that one. The burner one.”

Frowning deeply, he crosses his arms. “No.”

“Yes. Chris, do it.”

“No way. That’s the only contact I have with customers and the supplier,” he protests.

“Exactly. Hand it over, I’m not asking you again.” Your fingers move twice in your direction, a sign everyone knows. Come on, you think, don’t make this more complicated.

“A’ight,” he mutters, pulling it out of his back pocket and going back to fiddling with something he found in your car. You couldn’t care less what it is.

“Good,” you mutter, quickly chucking the phone into the backseat from where you’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to get Chris home.

The drive back is silent, except for when he occasionally starts humming a melody and then abruptly stops, grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” you mutter, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he replies, staring ahead like a pouty kid. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, a wave of anger bubbling up in your chest.

How could he be so careless? How could he possibly have thought that taking drugs as a goddamn drug dealer is okay? That it works? He knows the dangers of every drug. He’s seen people get completely wasted, slowly destroying their lives and the ones of the people around them.

Why would he do this to you? To his brothers? His friends and family?

Tears are burning in your eyes and you blink rapidly to focus your gaze on the street.

“Ma? ‘re you crying?” Chris asks. His voice is softer but clearly slurred now. The drug seems to be kicking in.

You open your mouth to say something, but not a single sound escapes your lips.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers.

“Why would you do that?” you finally ask. “You know drugs. You know what they do. You know they destroy lives. Fuck, Chris, what’s going on? Why did you take it?”

The car is silent, and nervosity settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chris…?” you ask again. “Why did you take it?”

“I js wanted to try,” he mumbles. It’s clearly not the only answer, but now is not the time to figure out what exactly led him to be so stupid.

After stopping the car in front of your house—you won’t let Nick and Matt see him in this state—, you force Chris outside, into the cool air. He doesn’t react, even as you start shivering. You quickly fetch the burner phone from the backseat and lead Chris inside, pushing him through the front door and to the couch. He seems restless and refuses to sit down, so you let him wander around.

While he’s still in his drug-induced haze, you sit down at the kitchen island and open the flip phone. The first number is his suppliers’, you know that, saved simply as G. It rings only once before he picks it up.

“You run out this quickly?” he asks. No greeting, no nothing.

“No,” you reply. The tension is palpable, even through the phone.

“Who are you?” G asks cautiously.

“You will not supply C anymore,” you say, careful not to use Chris’s name. “Do you understand me?”

“Tell me who you are and I’ll consider,” he repeats.

“That’s none of your business. If you sell to Chris-” Fuck, fuck fuck. “If you sell to him again, I will find out and send the police after you.”

The guy chuckles. “Easy. I’m sure we can talk about this. You his girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand over your face.

“You worried about him or something?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I don’t want him to become an addict. That’s normal, I fear.”

“He wouldn’t. I’ve been supplying to him for a while, he does it for the money, not the drugs,” G says, apparently unimpressed. “Just stay out of his business, yeah? This is no place for little girls.”

“You listen to me, you little fuck,” you hiss, jumping up from the chair. “I know who you are and from where you supply. I know the faces of all the little dealers around here, and they’re all connected to you. I know what parties you go to, and what people you know. I’ve seen you. And I will get you if you deal with my boyfriend again. He took Ecstasy today. And trust me, I know what happens next. I’ve seen it happen. So if one of us ever hears from you again, you will be caught, I promise.”

A stunned silence fills the phone. The only sounds you hear is the clock on the kitchen wall ticking… and heavy breathing behind you.

You whip your head around. Chris stares at you with confused eyes. He reaches out for the phone, but his movements are too uncoordinated, and you dodge his hand.

“Is that G?” he asks, slurring his words more than before. “Why would you- what are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t go down that path,” you say sternly.

Since you have no more to say to G, and you don’t care to hear his answer, you hang up the phone and guide Chris upstairs, leaving the burner phone on the kitchen counter.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But ‘m not tired,” he protests, still energised from the Ecstasy.

This is going to be a long night.

masterlist

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Sensitive.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Words count: 1300 (more or less, I added something just before posting it)

Warning: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Tags: pov second person, reader has breasts, nipples and hair, no other description of her is given, pwp, nipples play (YAS we play with the man’s nipples wooo), ice cubes, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), established relationship, dick pronouns for @sp00kymulderr’s challenge, kissing, Frankie obviously has a huge cock, I think it’s all? Let me know if I missed something and I will add it right away.

A/N: I've been wanting to do this for a while now because I'm a big fan of nipples (gender neutral, folks, we don't discriminate here, I can love a variety of them) and those Pedro pics yesterday uhm…inspired me lol English is not my first language, I have no beta, any mistakes are my fault, I’m so very sorry 💀

I also did it because every time I use the translator to check my English, whenever I type something nipples related, the translator always uses she/her and it pisses me off.

I hope it's not cringe, if it sucks pretend you've never read it, please, I love you all bye.

I started a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, thanks so much!

Frankie has sensitive nipples.

You discovered this by accident, while you were in bed together after he had fucked you like a god. Your hand wandered over his chest and brushed against his areola. Frankie fidgeted, tried not to show it but the involuntary flinching of his body spoke for him.

He kissed you right after just before you could ask anything so you didn’t investigate any further but you were so intrigued by it. You kept thinking about the way he squirmed under your touch for days and craved to do something more for him.

You have a thing for nipples. For his especially.

Both because you love him and because they are delicious. You also don't like the fact that yours get all the attention while his have always remained two neglected little buttons on his chest while you’re pretty sure you could make good use of them.

Tonight is the time to change that, at least to try.

As you kiss on your couch his hands instantly fly to your tits, he massages them, squeezes them and as much as what he's doing drives you crazy you keep thinking that you would like to do something for him.

“Frankie” you breathe between kisses and he whispers on your lips “what, honey?”

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“What?” he interrupts you “did I do something wrong?”

You smile in front of his worried eyes “no, you’re perfect, really. I just…” you hesitate but in the end you spit it out “I would love to try something new”

Frankie smirks under his mustache “uh, what’s in that scrumptious little head of yours?”

You giggle, feeling your courage grow as you slowly run a hand over his chest still covered by his shirt, starting from his neck, down his collarbones and then his pectorals.

“I would like… uhm… I would like to play a little game”

Frankie’s eyes sparkle with curiosity mixed with excitement “you know I like games”

“Okay, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, baby” he says right away, brushing your arm gently and looking you sweetly in the eyes.

“Let’s go to bedroom then”

You stop in the kitchen to get some ice cubes that you put in a glass as he watches you, still confused but definitely aroused “What are those for?”

“You'll find out soon enough” you take him by the hand grinning, lead him towards your room which has now become yours and you have him stand in front of the bed.

“Take off your shirt” you order him “and your jeans”

“I already like that,” he chuckles.

“Lie down,” you tell him soon after, playfully pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

You place the glass on the bedside table and undress, remaining only in your underwear while he cranes his neck to look at you and licks his lips full of anticipation.

“My favorite view…” he whispers and you giggle, crouching on the bed right next to him “Now listen to me, you can’t touch me but I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Frankie sighs “okay”

“Can you behave for me?” you raise an eyebrow watching him ironically.

Frankie lets out a more convinced “yes” and you praise him “such a good boy for me”

You brush your fingertips over his chest again, going down over his sternum, then over his stomach and belly, stroking the thin strip of hair that disappears into his boxers. "I think he'll like this," you whisper, watching his half-erection rose from beneath the fabric.

“He’s looking forward to it” he nods with a crooked smile.

Of course he expects you to touch him right there, but your hand goes back up letting a little protest leave his lips.

You stop on one of his nipples and your fingers graze all around the areola.

Frankie squirms, widening his eyes, mouth agape “oh fuck, is that what you want to do?”

You purr “exactly. Can I go on?”

Frankie swallows air, his Adam's apple pops in his throat, then murmurs, “Go ahead.”

“Shall we bet he will come untouched?” You suggest.

“We’ll see. Don’t make him wait further, gorgeous, do your thing” he urges you.

You begin to caress his skin, moving closer and closer, Frankie watches you mesmerized as you feel his body tense under your fingers.

You rub his areola again and then pinch his nipple. He gasps loudly “Oh fuck”

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

He frowns noticeably and nudges “yes.”

You alternate between pinching and rubbing, feeling his breathing get heavy and shorter as his cock swells under his boxers. You shift only long enough to pull them down and expose his huge engorged dick to your view.

“So much better” you purr “I need to see him”

You return to your seat beside him and remove your bra, smiling mischievously at him. Frankie tries to raise his hand to reach out to feel you but you rebuke him, " Hey, no! You can look, but don't touch, remember?”

He blurts out, “That's not fair,” and you chuckle, “I feel like he's doing just fine anyway. The best boy," you tease him.

You take an ice cube and pass it over your lips, you suck on it lightly and small drops of water slide down your chin, you place it back into the glass as Frankie lets out a needy moan. His pupils are dilated and his lower lip quivers slightly, he is absolutely delicious.

You reach down and your nipples brush against him, “You can feel them like that, can't you?”

He sighs “yeah…okay”

You stick your cold tongue out and run it over his and he groans “oh baby”

You eye his cock rise higher and higher until it comes flapping against his tummy, hard and swollen and its pre cum begins to drip from the tip along its length.

Your tongue circles his nipple, again and again, then you flick it and you nibble it lightly and Frankie's back arches as he gasps, "Holy fuck, baby, you're killing me."

Your mouth and ice-cold lips stir all his nerve endings just as you expected.

You smile pleasantly impressed against his skin ”you like that, huh?”

“God, yes” he breathes “fuck”

He groans loudly when you detached, taking an ice cube again and sucking it between your lips, then lean over his chest to reach the other nipple as you continue to rub the other with your fingertips.

His chest rises and falls faster and faster as your tongue strikes sharply and precisely, your other hand resting on his arm to steady you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please I’m so close” he whimpers “fuck - just like that baby”

You continue until his cock is on the verge of bursting, then you move your hand to take it and finish him off.

“Come for me, Frankie, come on” you urge him “Give it all to me, baby” just like he does every time he’s in control and his response is immediate, he comes in your palm after a few strokes, long streaks of sticky cum painting your hands and his tummy as he whines.

You get between his legs to suck him clean, welcoming his cock between your lips and giving him what he wanted from the beginning after what he didn’t know he needed.

You suck him until he softens and then you lie in his arms, quietly enjoying his warmth. He is the first to break the silence, after kissing your nose and your forehead "damn, baby, you knocked me out"

You lift your gaze to his and smile "you didn't imagine that huh?"

"He didn't imagine it either," Frankie laughs.

"I told you he would like it" Frankie caresses your cheek and you reach out to kiss him, his taste still on your lips. "next time you play with mine while I play with yours" you coo.

He retorts, “just give me some time to rest and I’ll show you right away”

Thank for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away ♥️

[aventurineswife]

Kafka, Silver Wolf, Blade and Jingliu with Reader who cooks as bad as Yor Forger? 🤣 (Could be platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat.)

Like Reader’s cooking is so bad it makes the actual in-game food item Sugarball Fried Viscorpi look normal in comparison, and even the most hardened criminal would balk and flee the moment Reader lifts the plate cover. A cycrane could be passing overhead and as soon as it catches a whiff, it just drops dead to ground with smoke rising from it. A devout follower of Lan might start praying to Yaoshi for a strong enough stomach to survive a bite, maybe a few bites if luck is on their side. That’s how bad Reader’s cooking is. It should be impossible for one person to be so terrible at cooking, yet Reader pulls it off without even meaning to, with desperate attempts to avoid it being terrible.

I just think it’s funny for characters that are meant to be super serious or “tough/cool” have that exterior suddenly shatter/freeze up when faced with something that is so awful and yet very much mundane. 😂

“When Love Cooks... but the Kitchen Revolts” | Part 1

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade x Reader, Jingliu x Reader, Humor, Fluff, Cooking Disaster, Slice of Life, Mild Chaos, Romantic Undertones but can be read Platonically, Lighthearted, Crack Fic.

Warnings: Slightly chaotic food descriptions, humor involving exaggerated reactions to food (no real harm intended), mentions of inedible meals.

A/N: was laughing when reading this req🤭, don't let this reader meet Solomon and Raphael 💀

[Part 2]

Kafka was rarely fazed. A Stellaron Hunter who could manipulate the minds of the toughest soldiers and bring entire armies to their knees with her charm and cunning—what could truly unsettle someone like her?

Apparently, your cooking.

“I appreciate the effort, darling,” Kafka purred, her tone masking the visible hesitation in her movements. Her hair fell over one shoulder as she peered down at the steaming… dish? It was hard to describe what lay before her, even for someone as eloquent as Kafka. The consistency was gelatinous, the smell pungent enough to make the station's security drones glitch and crash into a nearby wall.

You watched nervously as she poked the food with her fork. It wobbled menacingly.

“I followed the recipe to the letter this time!” you exclaimed, your hands wringing a dishcloth. “I even double-checked the measurements.”

Kafka gave you a patient smile, though there was a flicker of genuine fear in her eyes. She tentatively lifted the fork to her lips, her composure rivaling that of a woman walking into certain death.

The taste hit her like a warpstorm.

The fork clattered to her plate, and for the first time, you saw Kafka’s facade crack. Her lips twitched as she forced a smile that was as strained as the vocal chords of a cycrane caught mid-squawk. A bead of sweat slid down her temple.

“Exquisite,” she said, voice a touch too high. “Truly a flavor I’ve never experienced before.”

Outside the window, a passing cycrane plummeted from the sky, smoke trailing from its feathers. You gasped, and Kafka seized the opportunity.

“Darling,” she said, standing abruptly and pulling you close to her side, “why don’t we step outside? Some fresh air might do us good.”

“But you haven’t even finished—”

“No need!” she interrupted quickly, her polished calm returning. “I’m already full. Full of… new memories.”

As the two of you stepped outside, the dish quietly bubbled on the table, sending faint tremors through the floor.

Silver Wolf was sprawled across your couch, console in hand, her fingers flying over the buttons as she annihilated yet another level. She barely glanced up when you called her to the table.

“Hold up, just one more boss fight!” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence.

“Silver Wolf, it’s going to get cold!” you called back, proud of your latest attempt at dinner.

With a dramatic sigh, she finally paused her game and wandered over. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She froze mid-step when she saw the plate. Her usual smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief. The dish in front of her looked… pixelated. Somehow, you had cooked something that appeared to have graphical glitches. A faint buzzing sound emanated from it, and a small spark leapt from one corner of the plate.

“Uh…” she began, stepping back cautiously. “Did you… download this food? Is this some kind of DLC?”

“No, it’s homemade! I swear, I followed all the steps this time.”

Silver Wolf adjusted her purple glasses, leaning in like she was analyzing enemy data. “It’s moving...” she whispered.

“It’s probably just steam.”

“It has a health bar...” she countered, pointing at the faint glowing bar hovering above the plate.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Before she could respond, a stray kitchen cycrane beeped as it flew overhead, caught a whiff of the food, and promptly crashed through the window. Silver Wolf stared at the wreckage, then back at you.

“…Yeah, I’m ordering pizza.”

Blade had faced mara, untold pain, and the horrors of his immortal existence. Nothing could break him—or so he thought.

“Dinner is ready!” you called cheerfully, setting a plate in front of him. He glanced at it, his eyes narrowing slightly. The dish emitted a faint purple mist, and there was a distinct hiss as it touched the table.

“Is it… safe?” he asked, his tone flat.

“Of course! I made sure it was cooked all the way through this time.” you said, smiling.

Blade lifted his fork, gripping it with the same resolve he used to wield his broken sword. He took a small bite, and for a brief moment, you thought he’d handle it.

But then his usually impassive face twisted. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he slowly placed the fork down and stared at you.

“This… is a weapon.” he said finally.

You frowned. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean it’s literally a weapon. Whatever this is… it could end battles. Entire wars.”

Outside, a devout follower of Lan walking by your home dropped to their knees and began praying fervently. Blade sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Next time, let me cook.”

[Header credits]

Jingliu was a woman of discipline and focus. Even as she descended into the madness of mara, she maintained an iron grip on her composure. That composure was now being tested.

She stared at the dish before her, her eyes narrowing. “This… is your cooking?”

“Yes!” you said, grinning nervously. “I thought you might enjoy something homemade for a change.”

Jingliu reached for her chopsticks, her movements slow and deliberate. The air around her grew colder as if her body instinctively activated her Path of the Destruction abilities in self-defense. She picked up a piece of… something. It sizzled ominously in the open air.

“Perhaps…” she murmured, her voice low, “this is a test of endurance.”

She took a bite. The room fell silent.

Moments later, a faint cracking sound echoed through the house. You realized it was the sound of her chopsticks shattering under the force of her grip. Her usually calm expression flickered, a subtle twitch betraying her inner turmoil.

“It is… unique,” she said, her voice tight. “You have… a talent.”

Before you could respond, a faint thud came from outside. Looking out the window, you saw a stray cycrane lying on the ground, wisps of smoke curling from its beak.

Jingliu stood abruptly. “I must meditate on this experience. Alone.”

As she disappeared into the night, you sighed, looking at the uneaten plate. “Maybe I should take a cooking class.”

[novlr]

I’m just starting out with writing, and I really want my characters to feel different from each other. How do I make sure they have their own unique voices so my readers can tell them apart?

Experiment with character dialect

Dialect refers to the language people use when they speak: their accent, their slang, their regional or generational vernacular. When we think of “dialect”, we often think of things like “y’all” or “yer man” or “innit” — clichéd indications of place. You can definitely use these in your story, but also challenge yourself to go deeper.

Dialect can be a result of generational trends — you’ll notice that today’s teenagers don’t talk the same way their parents or grandparents do! Words fade in and out of fashion all the time. They can also be tied to a particular industry or subculture. When developing each character’s unique voice, consider what kind of slang or specialised language they might incorporate into the way they speak. 

Vary your characters’ syntax

Syntax has to do with the way we structure our sentences. Some characters will use only short, compact sentences, while others will ramble for miles. Some will always use grammatically correct language, while others will speak in fragments. 

A useful exercise is to write a conversation between two characters who use very different syntax in the way they talk. You can take their different approaches to the comical extreme until you get a sense of their different voices, and then dial it back and incorporate their individual syntaxes with more subtlety.  

Consider your characters’ word choices

There are very few true synonyms in the English language; each word has its own distinct connotation and tone. For example, one character might describe themselves as loquacious, while another describes them as a motormouth. Or, they might describe an authority figure as derisive, while the other character says they’re mean. 

The words a character lands on in any given situation can communicate a lot about how they see the world and themselves. 

Put your characters in moments of conflict

Conflict, tension, and suspense reveal who your characters really are. One character might become loud and aggressive, while another shuts down and speaks only in quiet monosyllables. Sometimes, a character’s voice contrasts the words they’re saying (you can communicate this through dialogue and action tags); for example, if a character says, “I’m not afraid!” in a strained, rattling voice, that belies their fear. 

As an exercise, try writing an argument between two of your characters and explore how the tension changes the way they speak. Then, you can incorporate this into your story.

Don’t neglect body language

On that note, a big part of a character’s distinct voice is the way they behave when they talk. You can convey this through action tags (“She hugged herself tight as she spoke”) or through descriptions surrounding the dialogue. 

Look at how your character holds themself — do they sprawl, taking command of the space, or do they try to make themself disappear? Do they only half-listen to the person talking to them, or do they make them feel like they’re the centre of the world? The way you communicate body language to the reader will inform the way they hear that character’s voice.

Read your work out loud

When you’ve finished the first draft of a story, it’s always a good idea to read your work out loud. This helps you catch any misused words, typos (the age of autocorrect is notorious for this), or inauthentic speech. You don’t have to let anyone hear you while you do this — it’s simply a tool for you as the writer to get a better sense of how your words come across on the page.

When you read, listen to each character’s dialogue and check to make sure it sounds true to that particular character. If you can’t tell the character voices apart, you may need to create a little more distinction through your revision process, using the tools we looked at above. 

Listen to character voices in the wild

A great way to develop your ear for character voices and get inspired along the way is to listen to the way real people talk. Go to a public park, a café, or a marketplace and stealthily absorb the language people use to express themselves. See if you can get a sense of what they’re thinking and feeling underneath their words. Then, you can incorporate elements of these experiences into your characters. 

Remember — human beings are unfathomably complex. Each is the epicentre of their own little universe, with all its dangers and joys. To create characters that readers will follow to the end, ensure that each one has a voice that’s unique and alive. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unwanted 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, insults, body insecurity, perversion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You’re used to being unwanted, but a strange man might just convince you that’s a good thing.

Note: this is a sequel to Unsolicited/Unexpected, but with a different reader. This is Lloyd’s sequel. Peaches is flourishing somewhere else.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You run away from the uber and nearly crash into the front door. You scramble to get the keys in the lock as you refuse to look back at the car idling at the curb. You shake as you twist so hard your wrist throbs. You swing inside and just as quickly turn the lock. 

You heave and turn your back to the door. You can't believe what just happened. What he did with you right there in the back seat. Your eyes tinge with hot tears and your nose tingles. 

“What’s it this time?” Derrick scoffs as he appears in a pair of loose grey sweats and oversized hoodie. You can’t tell that he’s been sleeping all day. “You’re such a cry baby.” 

“Nothing,” you turn and drop your bag on the side table. “It’s cold, that’s it.” 

“Sure,” he peels open the bag of chips in his hands. 

You shrug. He doesn’t care. He just likes an easy target. 

You unzip your coat and hang it. You leave your boots on the mat and swipe up your bag. You tramp past him and up to your room. 

You shut the door and throw your bag on the end of your bed. You’re restless. Unsettled by that strange man. Why is he bothering you? Of all people. How did he tack onto you. You’re nothing. You’re insignificant. Maybe that’s why. Just like Derrick, he knows you’re weak. 

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. You flinch. It’s probably your mom ready to bitch you out about the dishes or dinner. You slip the cell free and check it. Private number. 

You answer, it could be your manager. 

“Hello?” You quaver into the speaker. 

“Mmm, there’s that caked-up cutie,” the gravely purr makes you shudder. “I was just thinking of you. Again.” 

“No,” you exclaim and hang up. You throw your phone and pace around. Why? Oh, maybe it’s all your own fault. 

You’re used to being unnoticed. Being the forgotten one. And for so long, you just wanted to be seen. You dreamed of some guy way out of your league picking you out of the crowd and telling you you’re special. But not like this. No, never this. That man is a creep. 

But who are you to be picky? 

No! No. Don’t do that. You’d rather be alone. The way he talks about you, the way he looks at you, even you can see that he’s no good. He’s just a pervert and you’ve seen enough Tiktoks to know better. 

Your phone vibrates again. You ignore it. That’s your only option. 

You leave your room and your cell. You go down and start on dinner. At least your mom won’t have anything to rant about, but you’re sure she’ll think of something. 

You glaze the chicken breast and put it in the oven. You start on the potatoes, seasoning them and adding lemon wedges to the pan. You slide those on the middle rack and rinse asparagus. The front door opens and closes as you focus on the simple tasks over the complicated thoughts nipping at your ears. 

“Smells good,” your father chimes as he enters, then clears his throat, “oh, your mother isn’t home?” 

“Not yet,” you look at the time. You know she had her office holiday party but it is getting late. 

“Hm, well, put some aside for her,” he says. “Is it almost done? I’m starving.” 

“Yeah, twenty minutes,” you answer. 

He doesn’t say anything else before he leaves. You hear him upstairs as he gets changed then comes back down to flip on the television. Your brother’s surround speakers blare through the other wall as he games on his PC. 

The front door opens again. Your mother’s shrill voice carries through with a gust. 

“Oh, that’s so wonderful,” she preens. “How sweet of you.” 

You put the asparagus in the pan and pause. Who is she talking to? You turn with the spatula in hand and near the doorway. You peer down the hall and see a broad set of shoulders. Wait, you know the back of that head. 

“I mean, much more considerate than my own daughter. She’s never mentioned you,” she touches his chest as you see the smirk on her face. You grimace. 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” Lloyd says. “We were just talking earlier and she told me to come for dinner.” 

“She did? Well, isn’t that spontaneous. So unlike her,” your mom muses wryly. “Just like having a secret boyfriend. Older too.” 

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s growl wafts through and you shrunk back behind the doorframe and listen with dread. 

How are they not freaking out? This weirdo forty-year-old is just waltzing right into your house. This isn’t happening. 

“Hello, sir,” Lloyd says before he gives his name, “I’m here to see your daughter.” 

“That would explain the flowers.” 

“Scotch for you and wine for the missus, of course,” Lloyd explains. 

“Hm, that’s... top shelf,” you dad comments. Of course, he would care more about the fancy bottle than his own daughter. “Mitch,” he introduces himself. 

Your mom hollers your name, “you have companyyyyyy.” 

You cringe into yourself. How did he do it? How has he escalated everything so quickly? And why? Because you hung up on him? Because you closed your eyes when he-- 

Ew! 

She calls you again. You put your head back and gather what little courage you have. You turn and step into the hallway. 

“I’m just cooking dinner,” you say. 

“Get over here,” your dad demands. You know better than to disobey. 

“So when were you going to tell us?” Your mother prompts. 

“Tell you what?” You look at Lloyd sheepishly as he spins to face you and grins. 

“About us, sweetie,” he holds out a bouquet of pink roses, “oh, shoot, did I get the wrong day? I’m always forgetting these things, you know? I’m an executive and I have a pretty full calendar--” 

“Executive?” Your father echoes. 

Your mother hums, impressed. 

“We didn’t...” you try to summon a lie but you’re speechless. “Ummmm.” 

“I don’t know why you felt you had to hide us,” your mom challenges. 

“I didn’t? What?” 

“Well, it is about time, isn’t it, Enid?” Your dad intones. 

You gape at Lloyd as he shoves the flowers towards you, “these will need some water, sweetie.” 

You reach for them and look between your parents. You plead silently for help. Aren’t they supposed to protect you? Shouldn’t they be concerned that there’s an old man bringing you gifts? 

“Oh, dear,” your mom says, “do put them in crystal. They are so pretty.” 

“Just like her mother,” Lloyd adds. 

“Eh,” your father grunts playfully, “you could at least pour me a drink before you start flirting with my wife.” 

[thatswhatsushesaid]

well i think it has finally happened: my multi-year-long hyperfixation on jin guangyao is starting to wane 🥲 and not because he isn’t still my specialist little guy, aka the most interesting and compelling character in mdzs. i think i’m always going to love and adore him, and by extension xiyao and lan xichen and su she. i can’t see that changing, ever; he’s going to become like robin hobb’s fool for me, a fixture in my heart, a delightfully unexpected gift from another book i didn’t realize would change my life the way it did. truly some characters just become a part of you when you think and write about them long enough.

i just… think i have finally said everything i really need and want to say about him. i don’t have many New Thoughts i’m just chomping at the bit to share, or much motivation to revisit cql or the novel to seek out inspiration for More Thoughts. checking the tags just feels like something i do out of habit now, and not because i’m actually that invested in finding new fic or art. and while the bad takes have always left me tired and annoyed in the past, they do something much worse now: they just leave me bored. boredom is the ultimate creativity killer.

to be clear, i don’t have any plans to abandon this blog or stop posting! i’ll probably also keep my sideblogs going for as long as i can still track down some screenshots that are worth sharing, or maybe i’ll start reblogging and resharing older screenshots. i’d like to find a way to make my meta more easily searchable and shareable so that people who find my blog later can make use of my writing. and i still have some fic ideas i’d like to explore, and doing so while being less engaged on tumblr might be a better use of my time anyway.

so tl;dr i’m not necessarily going anywhere, i’m not bouncing from the fandom, but if it seems like i’m around less, or like my unhinged obsession with jin guangyao actually seems to have some hinges on it all of a sudden… well, now you know why lol.

[cicaklah]

get ready for my thoughts on yaoi UBI

So I’ve kvetched about UBI in the tags for long enough someone finally asked me what I was going on about so here we go! 

I will start with some caveats: 

I am British, and so I can only speak about the British specifics.

I have for the past twelve years worked as a professional health economist, and health economics is based on social welfare theory (specifically growing out of Arrow’s work in the 1960s and Sen’s work in the 80s/90s). I literally could talk forever about this, but I won’t. If you want to know more, read the pretty good wikipedia article on welfare economics.

But fundamental to welfare economics is two things: if we make a great big change, do the benefits outweigh the costs? And does the change make a fundamental change for good? (aka cost-benefit analysis and pareto efficiency).

The other thing you need to know about me is that I don’t like activists very much, because they never have to show their working, and my entire professional life is showing my working, and critiquing other people’s working. We all have ideas mate, show me the plan! I love a plan! and this isn't coming from anything but personal experience; I have been to talks by UBI activists before, including ones by economists, but I have never had the case made to me that UBI would be either cost-beneficial OR approach pareto efficient. In fact, it usually reminds me of arguments that are based on some other imaginary world, and then I get so annoyed I want to scream. 

In the early 2010s when I was first starting working as an economist, I was asked to build a model to see whether switching a disability benefit from government administered to individual administration would be cost-effective. Essentially, if you were newly in a wheelchair and you needed a ramp building up to your house, would it be better for the government to organise a contractor, or for you to be given a cash transfer and organise it yourself? The answer was that it wasn’t, but anyone who has ever had to hire a builder could have told you that, and the government didn’t have to pay my firm £30,000 to make that decision. But that is what UBI essentially is; a cash transfer where you get cash and the government gets to enjoy less responsibility.

There are 37.5 million people of working age in England. (Nearly) every single working person gets what's called a tax free allowance, where the government doesn’t claim income tax on the first £12,570. (Once you make over £120k, your allowance starts to decrease, and you lose it entirely at I think £150k)

Let’s assume that instead of just not claiming tax on this amount, the government switched to making that £12,570 your UBI. That is £471,375,000,000 just for England - just under half a trillion pounds. In cash, or nearest as in our modern economy. And not one off - Every year. 

Okay, let's say that the country does have a spare half a trillion a year (in cash) lying around. What is the benefit to switching from tax free allowance to UBI? Well, let's assume that no one stops working, so there would be the tax receipts from the 20% income tax on the £12,570, and that’s just a shade under £100 million. Not bad.

But if you’ve seen a UBI post, you will know that people like the idea because they will be able to work less. Which probably means that UBI will need to be paid for in some other way. Perhaps by cutting existing benefits. The universal credit cost is around £100 billion. So we’re still £300 billion short, and honestly, you wouldn’t cut all of universal credit anyway, probably only the unemployment benefits, but I’m not digging into the maths on that tonight. 

But, look, I am sympathetic. I am a welfarist. I genuinely believe that the economy is not just money, that welfare is happiness, it is utility, it is all the stuff that makes life worth living, and it is the responsibility of the government to maximise the welfare/happiness/utility/quality of life of the country through efficient use of taxation and other sources of money. So people give the government money and it spends it on goods and services and then people get utility, and then they spend their own money to get more utility, and ultimately we can gain intangible things that are incredibly valuable. 

But the problem is that cash is cash, cold and hard and very real. I don’t know how unlimited spare time translates into half a trillion real pound coins. I wouldn’t know how to build a model that complex and uncertain, especially as this all assumes that you can live on 12k a year, and that whatever replaces progressive taxation is equally progressive. I haven’t even touched on how having a convoluted welfare state insures it somewhat against being entirely destroyed after a change in political opinions, aka what I call the daily mail test. You think the narrative about people on welfare is bad now? But also, how would you deal with people who didn’t manage their UBI money well? What happens if there is a personal crisis?

The more I look at it, the more the existing system is actually remarkably good value for money. Individualism is expensive. Collective decision making and spending is just cheaper. 

Ultimately I don’t see the additional benefit of UBI, requiring a pie in the sky change, when it is far, far, far more cost effective to strengthen the existing regime across the board; taxation law, social safety net, childcare, working laws, education and health - all systems that are already in place, and have a thousand times higher likelihood to be pareto optimal and cost effective than trying to find half a trillion pounds of cash round the back of the sofa, while torching 150 years of progress so middle class people can write their book without having to have a job. If I was conspiracy minded I would say that UBI feels like a psy-op, trying to shut down old fashioned progress in favour of ripping it all out and starting again.

Ultimately, that is my real annoyance. It is far, far, far cheaper for the government to provide you with your new ramp for your house, and that is done through politics, but not fun moonshot politics, the hard shit that isn’t sexy.

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 4

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1347 (approx.)

Some time later, you are both laying there, a tangle of limbs, your head on his chest with his hand lightly stroking up and down your arm, totally satiated.

“Well, Cap, that was…” you began.

“Good? I hope..” he replied.

“It might take me some time to get my head around the fact I just slept with Captain America, but yeah, very good.  Now, I’m going to go take a shower and then get something to eat.  Care to join?” you smiled at him.

“Shower or eating?” he queried.

“Up to you Rogers.” You raise your eyebrows, shooting him a lascivious look as you move into the adjoining bathroom.

He follows you with his own smile on his face.  “Much as I’d love to join you in there Y/n, I think I’ll head to the kitchen and start getting some food ready for you.”

“Ok” you say “but you’re missing out.” You say as you walk away, swinging your hips and looking at him over your shoulder.

“Plenty of time Buttercup, plenty of time”

As you watch him leave the bathroom, you can’t quite work out what’s gotten into you, or him for that matter.  This isn’t something you would normally do, and it’s not really something you ever anticipated Steve doing either.

You and Cap had never even so much as had dinner together, without the others being there.  And that nickname, it’s the name of a character in your favourite movie, The Princess Bride.  Maybe it meant nothing but again, you weren’t sure. 

Half an hour later, you are showered, re-dressed and headed to the kitchen on your floor.  You don’t see Steve in the kitchen, and you can’t smell anything cooking.

“Rogers?  Are you there?” you enquired.  “Hello… Anyone.. Bueller.. Bueller??” you laugh at your own joke.

“Hey Y/n” Nat came into the kitchen.  “Steve had to go out, he said to apologise but something came up.  He asked me to make you something to eat, but there wasn’t much so I just made this PB&J sandwich, I hope that’s ok?  Tony has dinner being delivered later, so we’ll get to eat something good then.”

“Oh, hi Nat.  Steve went out?  I guess he had something better to do.” You weren’t sure why this hurt, except that you’d just had sex with him and before you’d even finished showering he was out of here.  He probably regretted it and didn’t know how to face you. 

Did you regret it, you pondered.  It was great sex, unarguably the best you’d ever experienced, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t regret it later.  You will have to think on it.

At that moment, Tony entered the room “Hey Y/n, I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away.” He gives you a wink and you’re not sure if that means he knows what you and Steve did.

“Just having something to eat Tony.  Nat made me this amazing PB&J and I don’t think I’ve ever had anything as good in my mouth.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, another wink.

“Well food-wise of course.  That hospital food can leave a lot to be desired.  I reckon they make it bad so you don’t stay too long.” You laughed hesitantly.

Tony & Nat laugh with you and you all go your separate ways.

Later that evening you get dressed to go down for dinner.  You still haven’t seen Steve since the events of earlier in the day and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.  Sure he had to go out because ‘something came up’ but you’d hoped he’d be back before now and you thought he’d want to come and at least say hi and apologise in person for ditching you earlier.

When you arrived in the dining room, you noted that everyone else was already there, seated around the table.  The only spare seat was next to Steve so you took a deep breath and sat down.

“Hey everyone, I’m so glad to be home and I want to thank you all for being so amazing while I was in hospital and so far since I’ve been back.  I know I’ve got some gaps here and there, I’m still not sure how much time I’m missing” you notice that they all glance at each other when you said that “but I’m sure you all will continue to be amazing and I’m keen to get back to training and missions with all of you.”

Everyone settles into comfortable conversations around the table, enjoying the lavish dinner Tony has provided as a celebration of you coming home.

You had lively conversations with Tony on one side of you, Bruce opposite and Nat who was sitting next to him.  Tony winked at you a couple more times, which had you double take.

You can’t help feeling a nervous vibe coming from Steve, maybe he also feels like Tony knows what happened.

Under your breath you say to Steve “I think Tony’s onto us.  He made a few remarks earlier about me sleeping all day and he winked at me.  Twice!”

“He knows,” Steve said almost nonchalantly.  “I told him.”

“You told him” you whisper yelled at him.  “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed that he knows.  Does everyone know?”

“Well, I only told Tony, I can’t say if he told anyone else.” He says.

You surreptitiously survey the table before realising that nobody seems to be concerned over you whispered conversation with Steve, or making any indications that they know about your little tryst, so you relax a little.

After dinner you make your excuses and head back to your room, tired from more activity than you’ve done in many days.

After you brushed your teeth and changed into your pyjamas, you get the feeling you’re not alone and you hope it’s Steve.  Looking up you see Tony in the doorway.

“Hey kid, how are you feeling, for real?” he asks.

“I’m so tired.  I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, but things are not as sore as they were, so that’s good.  To be honest though, I get the feeling there’s something I’m not being told and it’s scaring me Tony.”

“I’m not sure what you mean Y/n – there’s a bit of a gap in your memory, the doctor told you that.  So you know everything we know.  He also said we shouldn’t force the memories, they have to come back naturally.  Just make sure you don’t let anyone force memories on you.”

You think about what he said, thinking that it’s a code for something and you wonder if he’s referring to you and Steve.

“Listen Tony, Steve told me he told you what happened between us, is that one of the memories I’m missing?”

“Why do you ask that?” Tony asked.

“Well, without getting into the down & dirty” you start. “When he held me and kissed me, there was something almost primally familiar about it.  But I’ve never even so much as had dinner alone with him so I don’t get it.”

“Me either Y/n” Tony hoped he sounded sincere enough that you’d buy it.  “I came up to let you know that Brue has a flashback program he’s been developing.  I know the Doc said we shouldn’t force it but, think about it.  Maybe it will start things coming back to you.”

“Thanks Tony, I’ll think about it.  I might even chat to Bruce to see what it’s all about before I make a decision.”

“Good idea Y/n, sweet dreams.  Tomorrow is a new day.”

“You too Tony.  Oh, Tony..?”

“Yeah kid?” Tony replied.

“How big is the gap in my memory?  Nobody’s told me exactly and I don’t know if I should be searching for days or weeks.  Or longer?”

“Oh kid,” Tony began “I don’t know if it will help knowing that”. He kisses you on the top of your head and leaves the room before you can question him any further.

You sink into a restless sleep with dreams of you and Cap.

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash

[meelusinee]

AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.

pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader

tags: band!au, mostly fluff

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)

author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 

(divider)

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

The One That Got Away

Part 2

Characters: Reader, (Y/N), and nicknames babe(s). Jensen Ackles. Jared Padalecki. Misha Collins. Ruthie Connell. Rob Benedict. Osric Chau. Alexander Calvert. Briana Buckmaster. Eric Kripke. Lily (o.c) Abby (o.c) Brett (o.c)

Warnings: Drinking. Language. Angst. A smidgen of smut(not too graphic) Talk of blackmail, Talk of pregnancy loss, Cheating. Talks of past cheating.

Summary: You get pulled back into the magic of supernatural conventions and realize the love you once had is still there.

Word count: 6,275

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Hope y'all enjoy it. 💗

If you would like to be added to Tag List click here

Please don't copy my work

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗

Part 1

Jensen’s P.o.V

Jensen watched you walk away in Ruthie’s arms. He turned to Jared and sighed. “Exactly how much of that did you hear?”

“Well, I came in around blackmail. What the fuck is going on Ackles?”  Jensen explained everything to him. Jared stood there in shock. “That’s pretty much the same look (y/n) had on her face too.”

“So, when you two told me you ended it because you were better as friends...”

“Yes Jared. We lied to you. Hell, we lied to everyone. I didn’t want to be painted fuckboy Ackles, and she didn’t want everyone feeling sorry for her. So, we lied.” He said again. “I’m sorry Jared.”

Jared took a second to process everything. “We tell each other everything. Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?”

“I. I don’t know man. I think I was just too ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Where and when did this happen?”

“You remember that party we went to right before the hiatus between season 7 and 8?”

“Yeah… That was 2012, right?” Jared asked, trying to remember.

 Jensen nodded.  “(y/n) had to leave early because the wreck, remember?”

“That’s right. But to be honest I was really drunk, and it was a long time ago.” Jared shook his head. “What I don’t get Jay. You were going to ask her to marry you the next day. I went with you to buy the ring. I don’t see you throwing away everything you guys had drunk or not.”

“Jared, I don’t remember anything from that night. I remember dropping off at the airport. Next thing I know is I’m waking up in a stranger’s bed naked.

“You don’t remember it at all?”

“Nope.” Jensen gestured for them to go inside. “I tried Jared. I tried to find her during hiatus. She wouldn’t return my phone calls. No one would tell me where she was. Then Kelsey called me telling me she was pregnant and started with the blackmail.

“Dude again why didn’t you tell me?”

Jensen sighed. “I didn’t want her to have any more power than she already had. If she knew that you knew she could use me to get you to do whatever she wanted.”

“How did she do it? Like what did she threaten you with?” Jared asked as they made their way to the elevator

“Media mainly. Before she lost the baby, she threatened to go to everyone and anyone that would listen about how I knocked her up and left her and the baby. Then after, I’d be the asshole that left the mother after just losing the baby. I was young and just starting out. I believed everything she said. You know how one dumb rumor can ruin someone’s life or career. I just wish I would of went to my dad sooner.”

“I wish you would have told me, but I understand why you felt like you couldn’t. I’m sorry I should have known something was wrong.” He hit the call button

“J.P Don’t do that; you have nothing to be sorry for. You wouldn’t of had a reason to doubt anything, from what I hear I’m a pretty good actor.” He smiled. Jared let out a soft chuckle “besides we can’t change the past. We can only learn from it, move on, and try to repair the damage.”

“Yea... At least she knows the truth now. Maybe you guys could get back”

“I’m not.”

“Jensen. I was going to say get back to being friends.

“I don’t know Jared she’s pretty hurt and didn’t say much even after I told her.”

“Give her time to process everything. You might be surprised.” The doors opened and they walked through, hitting the button with their floor number.

“I’m not getting my hopes up.” Just then Jensen’s phone went off. It was a text from a number he didn’t recognize. He raised his eyebrows as he read.

“What?!” Jared asked.

“Jensen don’t call Eric. Just think about it.”

“Well told ya you might be surprised.”

Reader’s P.o.V

You woke to a knock on your hotel door. “Go away!” you yelled.

“I have coffee.”  You heard someone yell back.

“Ok hold on.” You rubbed your temples trying to get the slight headache to stop as you sat up.  You got up and looked in the mirror. You quickly ran a brush through your hair and splashed some cold water on your puffy eyes.

There was another knock. “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

“Keep your panties on.” you yelled as you walked to the door. “Lily? What are you doing here? How’s your dad?” you opened the door wider and stepped out of the way.

“My dad is fine. Just a broken wrist.” She handed you a cup of coffee stepping through the doorway. You closed the door behind her. “The truck not so much, but it could have been way worse.”

“Well, that’s good. But what are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you.” she said sitting down on the sofa.

“For real?”

“Yep, you’re off the hook babes. You can go home.” She looked up from her coffee. “What’s that look?”

“What look?”

“That look. He got to you.”

“Lily. It’s not like that.”

“Ugh I knew you coming here was a bad idea. I swear I’m to kick.”

“Lil. I have to tell you something.” You sat beside her and told her everything. 

“Oh my god.”

“I know”

“Oh my god!”

“Can you say anything else?”

 “So, he didn’t love her.”

“Apparently not.”

“I thought something felt off, but I just thought it was the energy from whatever happened between you two.”

“Lily you’re not psychic”

“But I am psychic adjacent.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not a thing.”

“Wait. Not trying to be a Debbie downer here, but how do you know he wasn’t lying?”

“He wasn’t lying.” you assured her.

“How do.”

“Because I know Lil.” She looked at you. “Trust me I know.”

“Oh my god. So does this mean y’all are gonna get back together?”

You sighed. “Lily, I can’t.” she gave you a puzzled look. “don’t look at me like that you know why.”

“Right.” She took a drink of her coffee

“You still love him...”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Jensen’s P.o.V

As he waited to go through the curtain for the morning gold panel, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would be sitting in her seat. He smiled at the thought.

“You ready man?” Jared asked. He nodded. “Let’s go.”

They walked out on-stage waving and blowing kisses at the crowd. His eyes glanced down hoping to see her face. Nope damnit. The women sitting her sitting in (y/n)’s seat waved. He furrowed his brows but waved back. What the hell was Lily doing here. Did (y/n) leave?

“Jensen you ready for questions?”

“Yes, sorry. Need more coffee.” He said the cup in his hand with a smile, the audience laughed. “Alright, your blue hoodie.”

. She left and the only relationship you would have at this point would be professional. Come on Jensen head in the panel he thought

“Jensen? You ok man? “Jared asked nudging his arm

“Yep. What was the question?”

Jared repeated it to him, and he did his best to answer it. As the minutes ticked by and the questions kept coming, he tried his best to stay focused. He managed it for most of the panel except when Jared got a question and his mind started to wander, but Jared knew what was going on, so he tried to keep Jensen engaged in conversation with his answers.

“Alright. Thank you, guys. We love you all. Take care.” They walked to the opening of the curtain. “Ok how bad was it?”

“The beginning was rocky, after you got out of your head it was bad at all.” Jared promised him. “You gonna be, ok?”

“Gonna have to be.” 

Jared sighed. “Is there anything I can do?”

Jensen smiled. “Unless you got a Jennie, not really”

“So, you boys have some time before your meet and greet. Y’all hungry?”

His whole body froze. She didn’t leave.

Reader’s P.o.V

Jared spun around, “(y/n) we thought you left.”

You took a step back and raised your hands. “Do not pick me up Padalecki!”

He laughed. Jensen finally turned around.

Jared could feel the tension between the two of you. “let’s go get some grub.” He turned around and started walking. You and Jensen followed.

You and Jensen followed in awkward silence.

“So have you thought about the part?” you asked Jensen

“Yea. I think it would be fun. He is a complete dickhead though.”

“Oh, a total scumbag, but.”

“You’re really going to defend him?”

“I agreed with you.”

“With a but.”

“Ben is the character you love to hate. You know he’s fucked up and yet you find your self hoping he will do the right thing. Who knows maybe this whole asshole thing is just a front.” Jensen raised his eyebrows at you. “The guy has ptsd, been tortured by the Russians for years, screwed over and used by Vought, screwed over by his own team and the woman that supposed loved him. I think if we got the right guy to play him, he could be a real fan favorite” You nudged into him.

“Why do you have such a hard on for this character?” he asked as he opened the green room door for you.

You took a step, then turned to him “I guess I just have a thing for assholes.”  You teased.

Jensen’s jaw dropped. “Wow! That was a cheap shot.”

You walked to the fridge and pulled out 2 bottles of water, tossing one at Jensen. He caught it and took a drink.

“Plus, you’d look good super suit, Ackles.” You said laughing as you sat on the couch.

He chuckled and sat beside you laying his arm across the back of the couch behind you.

You heard the door open and looked up when you heard your nickname. “Babes! You’re still here?!” Misha sat down on the other side of you. “And still wearing that Cowboys hat I see.” He flicked the bill of your baseball cap.

“Be careful Collins. If you hurt this hat I will hurt, you.” You pulled the bill back down and stroked it. “And yes, every game day.”

“Is that the one you stole?” Jensen chimed it.

“I did not steal it.”

“Yes, you did. You came to grab me for a scene.” He winked at you  “You asked to borrow it because you didn’t have a scrunchy.” 

“I’m still borrowing it.”

“10 years later?” Jensen raised his eyebrows.

“Yep.”

He smiled and shook his head.

Before you could stop it, the memory was already replaying in your head.

Year 2008:

“We gotta get back babe, Sgriccia said 25 minutes.”

“I don’t want to.” You protested.

“Trust me. I’d rather lay here with you like this.” He lifted the sheet for a peek “Come on just a couple of scenes and we will be right back here. Exactly like this.” He waggled his eyebrows making you smile.

“Promise?”

He smiled. “I promise.” He kissed you.  He got up and picked your clothes up and laid them on the bed.

 You got dressed and looked in the mirror. Your hair was a wreck. “Can I borrow a hat?”

“A hat?”

“Yes, someone made my hair all messy.” You pointed at him and mouthed the word you, making him laugh. “I don’t have a brush or scrunchy to fix it and I know your ass has a million hats around here.” He handed you his new Dallas cowboy’s hat. “Thank ya love.” He nodded with a smile.

“You ready?” he asked holding out your coat for you.

“Yep.” You put your arms in and turned to face him. He gave you one more kiss. “I love you, Ross.”

“I love you too baby.”

Jensen cleared his throat bringing you back. You looked at him, his eyes told you he was reminiscing as well. You shot up off the couch and awkwardly walked over to the fridge. You opened it and pretended to look for something.

“Look who I found.” Abby said walking through the door with Lily following her. “Did we plan a reunion this weekend?”

You smiled. “Don’t even try to pretend like you don’t love seeing our faces, Abigail.” She narrowed her eyes as you said her full name. you blew her a kiss with a dramatic mwah sound.

“Hey, are you guys going to Rob’s thing tonight?” Jared asked you walk

“What thing?”

“I guess Louden Swain is having a pop-up at the bar across the street tonight.”

“I don’t know.” You looked over to Lily who was attempting puppy dog eyes with her bottom lip pouted. You sighed. “You guys and you’re damn puppy eyes.”

Lily’s face perked up. “Is that a, yes?”;

“Yes.” You said walking toward the door “Come on boys. Meet and greet time. Jensen and Jared followed you. “You too Lily?” you held your elbow out to her. She linked her arm in yours and you walked out the door.

You watch Jensen and Jared interact with their fans with a smile on your face. You felt someone nudge your arm. “Hey there.” Osric said.

You smiled at him “What’s up Oz?”

“Nothin. Hanging out.

“Sounds fun.”

You look back at Jensen. He was watching you. His face was hard, and his brows scrunched together. You raised your hands and eyebrows in a what gesture.

“He’s jealous.” Osric said.

“Oh, shut up. He is not.”

“You want me to prove it?” you rolled your eyes and Osric put his arm around you. You watched Jensen’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

 “Don’t piss him off. You shook off Osric’s arm. “But why would he be jealous of you?”

“He knows I had a thing for you back in the day.”

“Speaking of things from back in the day.” You nodded your head towards Lily who was walking up carrying 2 carriers full of coffee cups. Osric smiled.

She sat down the 2 cup carriers she had in her arms and pulled out your coffee. “Here you go.” She said holding it out to you.

“Lily you could ask for help ya know.”

“Eh I’m used to it, Oh, hey Osric. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, good.” The awkward tension made you cringe. He said, “Here, let me help you” he picked up one of the carriers.

“See ya around Babes.” He winked at you, and you nodded as they walked away.

Jensen’s face relaxed and you shook your head at him. His attention went back to his face, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched. He was so good to his fans. He smiled at you and your heart fluttered. Man, why did he have to go and fuck everything up? You stood there pondering how much different you life would be with him.

“So, can I ask how the whole babe/babes thing started?” An unfamiliar voice made you jump. You looked over to find Alexander standing next to you.

“Really?! Nobody’s told you the story?”

“No. Everyone just says that’s what we’ve always called her.”

“Hmm. Ok. So back in season 3 Jensen and I started dating, everyone kind of new, but nobody really pressed us about it. We wanted to stay professional on set and around our co-workers. One day Jensen let babe slip out on set. Padalecki and Beaver started calling me babe to mock him and it just kind of stuck. Next thing you know everyone was doing it.”

“How long did you guys’ date?”

“Almost 4 years.”

“So, what happened?”

“We were just better off as friends. I guess,”

“I call bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“It seriously took you almost 4 years to realize you were better off as friends?”

“Babes.” Abby walked over to you “Can you take the boys out to lunch for me? I got something I have to take care of.” Abby grabbed you, you waved and Alex nodded as she drug you away.

“Am I gonna get paid for today?”

“Put it on my tab.” She smiled at you.

You made your way over to the table as the event ended.  “Y’all hungry?”

“Starving.” Jensen said and Jared nodded.

“Well come on. We are going out for lunch.”

“Who’s we?” Jensen asked.

“You, Jared, Lily, and me?”

“Ok I’ll go.”

“I mean if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t wanna be the third wheel to you and Osric.”

“Really Jensen?”

“Well, you looked pretty cozy a minute ago.”

You rolled your eyes. You motioned Lily and started walking toward the elevators. She met you on your way. “You, ok?”

“Jensen being Jensen.” you looked over your shoulder, the boys were a way back but following.

“So, Lily, You’re a cast p.a now?” Jared said trying to relieve the awkward tension in the air that lingered around the table.

“Yeah, It’s a lot of fun. So much better than a grip assistant.”

“You gonna follow in (y/n)’s footsteps and become a writer?”

You smiled at her. “No. I could never. I really don’t know how she does it. It’s amazing. I wish you could read her work right now. What she did with Soldier Boy was awesome.”

Jensen’s eyes snapped up to you and your smile faded. “You wrote Soldier Boy?” he asked.

“I helped develop him for television.” His green eyes leered at you. “I did not create him myself.”

“Helped?” Lily continued “Eric loved everything you suggested for him. She made him so good. He’s a dick, but you got to love him.”

You sighed and went back to your plate. “Hey Eric.” Your eyebrows raised when you heard Jensen say Eric’s name. “I’m good bud. How are you?”  He laughed. You looked back up at him. Shit he was probably going to say no. You didn’t think Eric would fire you over it, but it wasn’t out of the question. “Well, you know I had to get woo-ed first.” He laughed again. “Yeah, she is good at getting what she wants huh.” More laughter. “Yes sir. Write me up a contract. Me and Frank will meet up with y’all” He listened. “Alright man I’ll talk to you later… bye” he hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. Your phone buzzed. You looked it and read the message.

Eric: Thank you!

You smiled as you turned the screen off and put your phone back on the table. The waitress came back over “Can I get you guys anything else?” she batted her eyes at Jensen, he flashed a smile at her. “No darlin’ just the check.” You rolled your eyes as he winked at you.

You stepped up to the elevator’s call button and pressed it. Jared and Jensen walked up as you waited. Jensen stood beside so close your arms were touching. The doors open and you start to walk but Jensen stopped you. “We’ll meet y’all up there. I have to talk to (y/n).” Lily looked at you and you nodded. The doors shut.

“What?” You asked but he stayed silent and then pressed the call button once Jared and Lily started going up. “’Jensen. What do you want?”

The second set of doors opened, and He gestured you to go first. You got in and leaned against the back wall.

“Ya know babes, You’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” He pushed the button for your floor and turned around.

“What?”

“The waitress at lunch. I noticed your eye rolls and dirty looks.”

You sighed. “Have you ever heard the story about the kettle and pot?”

He gave you a flirty smile.  “So, what if I was?” He closed the space between you and slid his hands on your face, bringing his lips just inches away from yours. His eyes searching yours for a refusal, but you didn’t give one. His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. Electricity coursed through your veins. Before you could stop them, your arms wrapped around his neck deepen the kiss further. His arms found their way around your waist pulling you into him. The elevator dinged and reality set back in ending the kiss.  He rested his forehead on yours.

“Jensen.” you whimpered between pants.

“Please don’t ruin this.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Just tell me why and it will never come up again.

“I’m getting married.

 “Bullshit. Padalecki would have told me.” He tilted his head to kiss you again

You pulled back. “Jared doesn’t know.” His eyes shot open.

“When?”  

“5 weeks.”

“You’re getting married in 5 weeks and you didn’t invite Jared?” He asked, bringing his forehead back down to yours.

“Family only. You know I never wanted a big wedding.”

His face scrunched in pain. “Do you still love me?”

“Jensen...” you blinked back tears.

Your breath hitched as his hands smacked his palms against the wall. “Just answer the question!” He demanded.

You couldn’t stop the tears any longer. You nudged him. He didn’t move. “Jensen Please.”

He stepped out of the way, and you walked off the elevator. Your phone started to ring on the way back to your room. Your phone started to ring. Fucking fantastic you thought as you saw the name.

“Hey,” your voice cracked as you answered your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Brett asked.

“Nothing.”

“Eric just told me the news.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Congrats. I didn’t think you’d be able to actually pull it off babe.”

You hmphed. “Well thanks.”

“Don’t take it like that. Hey gotta go Angela needs me.”

“Oh of course.” The tears started again.

“Don’t be like that. She’s, my boss.”

“And she totally has a thing for you.”

“You’re Being crazy.”

“Yep. I’m the problem.”

“Seriously? I gotta go. Can we finish this later?”

“Yep.” You hung up

“Hey, what happened?” Lily asked as you opened the door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You threw his hat on your bed and headed for the bathroom.

Jensen’s P.o.V.

“The answer was always going to be yes, J.p” he said as they walked off the elevator. “I just wanted more time with her.” “And did it help?” “Kind of yea.” Jared rolled his eyes. “I guess in a fucked-up way. At least the truth is out now. Maybe y’all can work on being friends now.” “I don’t think it will ever be the way it was. He said as they started across the street. “Well maybe you should try to find a new way to be friends with her.” They walked through the doors and the bar was packed. “I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Jensen pointed at the bar and Jared nodded. Jensen’s eyes scanned the room for her, but she was nowhere to be found. “She’s not here yet.” He sat down on the barstool next to Ruthie. “But she told me she was coming and she’s not one to break her word.” She took a drink. “You guys ok now?” “Honestly Ruthie. I have no idea. I did something stupid.” “Well, that doesn’t surprise me.” she teased. “Oh, gee thanks.” He smiled. “I was being malicious dear, just trying to say you do dumb shit when you’re in love.” “Do you know?” Ruthie’s eyebrows creased, “In 5 weeks.” “Yes, I know.” She sighed. “He’s an arsehole. I wish she would see it.” “Really?” “I shouldn’t be telling you this.” She took another drink. “We’ll blame it on the whiskey.” She winked at him. “I know you would treat her a million times better. Hell, she probably knows it. She’s just letting the past scare her.” He opened his mouth, but she put her hand up. “I know Jensen. But you will have o prove it to her.” He nodded. Jared walked back up and their phones went off at the same time “The cowboys won!!” Jared yelled, turning around. And leaning his back on the bar. “Finally stopped that losing streak.” Jensen said as they bumped fists. “You want a beer?” Jared nodded. Jensen go the bartender’s attention “3 Coronas Please.” Jared gave him a puzzled look. “She’ll be here.” The bartender sat down the beers and Jensen handed him his card. “Start a tab.” The bartender nodded. “Thank you.” “Dude.” “You can send me your half later.” “There she is.” Jared yelled and Jensen turned around on the stool. Damn she looked good. Tight jeans, white tee, He smiled when he saw she still had his hat on, but even with the makeup he could tell she’d been crying. “How bout dem boys? Huh?” She smiled. “What are we drinking?” “Whatever you want princess.” Jared teased. “Tequila.” She turned around. “Bri. Come do a shot with me.” “Hell yea.” “Ruthie. You want one?” “Not tonight boys. We have an early flight tomorrow.” She told them. “I’ll take Ruthie’s” (y/n) said. “I’ll do a second one with her.” Bri said Jensen raised his eyebrows. “You’re gettin drink tonight huh?” “I’m having fun tonight.” She smiled again “Alright.” Jared counted. “6 shots of tequila please.” The bartender brought over the shots with lime slices and a saltshaker. Jared picked up the saltshaker “Hands.” Jared said and licked his own hand. The three of them licked between their thumb and index finger, then held them up to Jared. He poured salt where they licked. “Limes” he said as he handed them each a lime. “Shots.” He handed each of them a glass and brought his into the center of them. They clinked their shot glasses together as they licked the salt and then took the shot. “Ready for another one?” Bri asked you “Yes ma’am.” Jared held out the saltshaker and the girls repeated the process. Jensen couldn’t help but smile at the face she made when she took the lime out of her mouth. “Still not a fan of limes I see.” “No not really.” She confirmed. “I gotta pee.” Bri grabbed (y/n)’s hand and drug her to the bathroom. Jared turned to Jensen. “She’s been crying.” “I know Jared.” Jensen cleared his throat. “My fault.” “Maybe we should just lock you two in a room and let you scream it out.” Jensen chuckled. “Keep buying Tequila shots and it will probably happen.” “I don’t know Ackles. She’s the happiest drunk I’ve ever seen. Might make the situation better.” Jared smiled deviously. “Well judging by that smile, I guess we will find out.”

Reader’s P.o.V

“Ok spill.” Bri said as the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “the way you guys are looking at each other, ya know like you used to.”

“Bri. I’m supposed to be getting married in 5 weeks.”

“What?! You and Jensen. Oh my god final.”

“No not Jensen. His name is Brett. He works with me on the boys.”

“Oh. Why the supposed to be.”

“I don't know.” You told her about the conversation you had earlier today and the big fight you had before you came out. “When I told him I was going out with my supernatural friends, he lost his shit.”

“If he doesn’t make you happy. You need to call it off.”

“But everything has already been paid for and its not bad all the time.”

“Do you really want to get married because everything has been paid for?”

“You have a point.”

“Look just have fun with us tonight. Really let your hair down. You deserve fun. Tomorrow go home and hash it out with him. If you guys can’t come to an understanding, I’d say kick him to the curb. Deal?”

“Deal. Now go pee so we can go back to drinking.” She chuckled with you.

“Another round of shots?” Jared asked as you walked up to them.

“Maybe we should slow down a bit J.p.” Jensen suggested.

“Aw what’s wrong cowboy? Can’t handle your liquor anymore.”

He raised his eyebrow and gestured for another round. “Add another one.” Jensen told Jared as Lily walked up.

“Lily!!” You and Bri yelled together.

She smiled. “Really boys? I leave her alone with you for 5 minutes and she’s taking tequila shots?”

“I am a grown up. and I’ve only had 2.

“Bout to be 3.” Jared said turning around with the saltshaker. “Hands.”

“Can we get a lemon slice please?” Jensen asked the bartender. He sat the shots down and got in the fridge.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

The 5 of you repeated the took the shots and slammed the glasses on the bar.

“Bri!” you heard someone yell.

“I’ll be back.” Bri said and walked away.

You sat the deflated lemon slice on the counter. Leaning on the bar closer to him than you probably should have. “Is this for me?” You asked, pointing to the extra beer sitting by Jensen’s.

“Yep.” He said and picked his up.

“Well thank you.”

“No problem princess.” He teased and you squinted at him.

“How much time before they come on?” Lily asked.

Jared looked at his watch. “About 45 minutes.”

“(y/n), let’s go play a song” Lily said pointing at the fancy jukebox. You grabbed your beer and followed her.

“Really babe, Tequila shots?” she questioned you.

“Yes, Tequila shots. Lily, I have had a rough week. I want to have a fun night with my friends. So quit being a buzzkill and have fun with me, please.”

“Alright.” She walked up to the bar. You started scrolling through the songs. Lily came back over holding 2 shots. Your jaw dropped. “Let’s have fun then.” You clicked the glasses and took the shot. You turned back to the jukebox as she took your glass and returned it back to the bar.

“Yes!” you slid your card and tapped the song you wanted. You looked over at Jensen who smiled as soon as the music started. “His eyes are cold and rest” You sang “And his wounds have almost healed.” His smile got bigger.

“And she’d give half of Texas, just to change the way he feels.” Jared belted out making you laugh.

“She knows his loves in Tulsa.” You yelled back at him. Making your way back over to the boys.

“And she knows he’s gonna go.”  Jared said turning to you

“But it ain’t no women flesh and blood, it’s that damned old rodeo.” You and Jared sang loudly. Everybody laughed.

You turned to Jensen who was shaking his head. “What’s wrong Ackles, did you forget the words?” you teased him.

“No, just not 4 shots deep yet, darlin.”

“4?”

“Her and Lily snuck one without us.”

Jared shook his head at you.

You smiled. “Better catch up Padalecki.”

He looked over to Jensen. “2 more Jay.?”

“Come on Ross. Live a little.”  You gave him a cheeky grin.

He chuckled “Alright let’s go.”  He got the bartender’s attention and held up 4 fingers.

“Hello?” lily answered her phone. “Yes, Brett she’s right here hold on.” You rolled your eyes as she held her phone out to you.

You took it and put it to your ear. “Hey. Hold on.” You turned and walked toward the door.

Jensen’s P.o.V

“Who’s Brett?” Jared asked as he and Jensen sat their empty glasses down. Thank you for asking Jared. Jensen thought to himself.

“Another writer on the show.” Lily said as she stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink.

“Why is he calling your phone looking for (y/n)?” Jared asked clinking glasses with Jensen before they took the second shot.

“He asked if she was ok. She wasn’t answering her phone. She probably forgot it and didn’t want to go back up.”

“My tab.” Jensen told the bartender as he took Lily’s drink and held it out to her.

“Thanks Jay.” She said as she took it from him.

“No problem.” He grabbed his beer.

“Come on Ackles. Let’s go play some music.”

Jensen nodded and followed Jared over to the jukebox.

“Did she mention this Brett guy to you?” he asked Jared as he slid his card in the card reader. He picked a song “You’re up.”

“No. Why would she?”  Jared asked searching for the song he wanted. “Now You.” They switched spots.

“I don’t know. It just seems odd.” He searched for her favorite. Jared rolled his eyes.

“You’re over thinking it. you need to get out of that jealous ex-boyfriend headspace bro.”

“I know its just hard with her.” He makes the final choice. “Done.”

“Jared!!” Mark yelled from one of the tables.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be at the bar.”

Jensen started back to his seat to find (y/n) sitting in it. “I think you’re in my seat little lady.”

She spun around to face him. “Well, ya know what they say about moving your feet.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky.” He stood beside her leaning on the bar.

She smiled. “Or you’re just yellow bellied.”

He laughed. “I’d watch that mouth.”

“Oh, or what?”

“You really don’t wanna go there.”

She giggled. “So tough.” He smirked and shook his head.

He leaned against the bar and took a drink of his beer. “So, is everything alright? Lily said that Brett guy was worried about you.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Just that he’s another write for The Boys, you weren’t answering your phone, so he got worried and called Lily’s phone. Where is Lily anyway?”

“Bathroom.” She took a drink. “Everything is fine.”

“You know I know when you’re lying right?” Jensen asked and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m not lying we got into an argument, but everything is fine now.”

“An argument about what?” She stayed silent. “Ohh that’s him. huh. The guy you are supposed to marry?”

“Yea.” She sighed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Thought we were trying this whole friend thing out?”

“So be my friend and drink with me. I wanna have fun. Make me forget my problems.”

“They’ll still be there in the morning.”

“Then I’ll deal with them then.” She took the last drink of her beer. “Or I can just got get Bri.” She got the bartender’s attention and pointed at her beer.

“Another for you sir?” the bartender asked as he sat down (y/n)’s beer.

“Yes, please and 2 more shots.” She smiled.

 “Oh of course you’d play this song.”

He smiled. “Mama told me, When I was young.” Her face lit up when he started singing, making his heart do a little flutter. "Come sit beside me, my only son, and listen closely to what I say, and if you do this it'll help you Some sunny day"

“Still got that pretty voice huh?”

“Guess so.”

The bartender sat the shots on the bar. “Uh what’s this?” Lily asked as she walked back up to you and Jensen. Jared was right behind her.

“Thought y’all were going do one without us?”

She looked at him and giggled.

“Add 2 more"

Reader’s P.o.V.

“Come on I wanna get a good spot.” Lily yelled.

Jensen grabbed your hand “follow me.” you grabbed Lily’s hand, and she grabbed Jared’s arm. Jensen led you guys almost to the front. You stood next to him looking down at his hand still holding yours. “Sorry.” He let it go.

You didn’t know if it was your feelings or the 6 shots of tequila you had, but you felt kind of disappointed. You shook it off. The band came out and the crowd went crazy. You couldn’t help but smile at Jensen as he cheered. Just as Rob started to sing some big muscle bond guy stepped in front of you. Blocking your view.

Then you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in front of him so you could see. He dropped his hands, but you could feel him behind you. Lily came over wiggling her hips and singing along with the band. You downed the rest of your beer and started to do the same.

“Lily!!” you heard someone yell. You look over and Lily is dancing her way to Osric. You leaned back and found Jensen’s neck pulling his ear down to you. “Is your jealousy cured now?” you pointed over to them, they were dancing together now.

He brought his lips to your ear. “Almost.”

“What does that mean?”

"Still got one more to get rid of." He licked his lips keeping his bottom lip in his teeth.

Shit maybe the tequila was a bad idea. You couldn’t stop yourself. You had to fill his lips again. You pulled him down, smashing your lips together in needy desire. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Pulling you to him, you parted your lips and shivers ran up your spine when he slides his tongue on yours making you roll your hips. He let out a small growl and thrusted his hips. letting you feel his hardening shaft on your ass. Making you moan softly. He pulled back and spun you around. His hands found your ass and pulled you close again. And his lips were back on yours. Your arms slid around his neck. Pulling him into you just as hard as he was pulling you into him. He double tapped your right thigh, and you brought your knee up to his hip. Flames shot from your core as he hooked his hand under your ass and pushed his hardness into you. You trailed kisses up to her ear.

“You wanna get out of here Cowboy?

TAG LIST

@deansgirl010101

@mariahoedt

@nightxcreature

@quietgirll75

[ppushable]

Fanfic writer interview

tysm for the tag eb! sorry i took so long getting to it. i swear it was screaming at me from the drafts the whole time

How many work do you have on AO3?

4! (but one of them doesn’t really count because it’s a test)

What's your total AO3 word count?

84,177

What are your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

two ibuprofen - 92 notes

low tide - 44 notes

just us - 26 notes

ofcwbo - i’m not sure but she’s definitely at the bottom

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes i do! i love that people take the time and effort to do this and i want to show my gratitude always. they didnt have to comment but they did. fics are so personal as well imo, seeing what other people have to say about it is. i’m not sure how to describe it but it makes me want to yell into a pillow.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

ofcwbo will have the edgiest ending, but since i haven’t actually finished any of my (posted) fics other than just us, it has to take the title by default. (it does have a very angsty ending though. and an angsty beginning and middle)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

using the above logic, just us by default….? (it would be anything in the rose tinted hours collection (that being two ibu or low tide (for now (👁️)) because that’s my happiness and i shall keep angst away from it with a 10 km pole)

Do you write crossovers?

nope

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope! if that happens i’ll wither and die

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

no

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

oh dear god. my origin story

back in my reddit phase (i was like 13? leave me alone) i made art for a fandom which mustn’t be named and met another person there. we became friends (stranger danger, i know, i’m smarter now) and somehow we started writing fic. it went pretty well, they would make most of the plot and the chapter outline and i would go in and edit it to make it make sense. we had a good run, all things considered. we then moved on to another fandom (read: they dragged me into another fandom) and we wrote for that one as well, except this time i got the opportunity to write my own chapters with my own ocs. that’s when i started realizing how nice and cool this was.

if youre seeing this, J, hi.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

jean and i. alternatively, me and jean (YEAH FOR SELFSHIP DELULU I LOVE BEING INSANE)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

i don’t have such weaknesses. i WILL finish all my wips.

(ofcwbo. it’s going to drag on forever. deep inside a part of me wants to be realistic and say that it’s a little unrealistic for me to actually get down everything i wanted in a way that satisfies me. maybe i dont even WANT to finish it, because the fic has been such a comfort in the back of my mind for so long that the idea of it suddenly. terminating. is terrifying. maybe i’m overthinking it. i just dont want that world in my head to die, whether that be by fading away quietly or suddenly coming to an end.)

What are your writing strengths?

toughie. i think my descriptions are solid, as well as getting into the mc’s head (but that can just be attributed to the first person pov thing aha).

What are your writing weaknesses?

planning whatever i’m trying to write - i dont control it, it infects my brain and hands and forges its own way. i’m also not a huge fan of proofreading (this mostly applies to the earlier chapters of ofcwbo (i get embarrassed)). i also have a tendency to repeat a certain phrase or metaphor in a fic without realizing it. sequences of actions are hard to write too.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i try not to do it too much because it can be confusing and having to translate/provide a translation can break the flow. but i do like adding in little phrases sometimes based on my hcs for what languages the characters speak

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

i’m not sure i have one. i’m deep in the bowels of jean/reader purgatory and i don’t see a way out

What's your favorite fic you've written?

just us. <3

@firefly--bright no pressure (yes pressure)

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[ahalliance]

antoine + étoiles insane moments for ur consideration :] @etoilesbienne @icockeatpanda @jahanmp4

eng transcript below:

[Video Transcript:

(First clip plays.)

Antoine: Look at what’s written in the heart, dude.

Etoiles: Holy shit, it’s you and me, dude!

Antoine: Oh yeah, A + E, dude

(overlapping) Etoiles: Antoine and Etoiles. Dude, holy shiiiit

Etoiles: Hey all that is destiny, dude

Antoine: I’m the one who did it in the hopes of stumbling across it on Geoguessr one day

Etoiles: Fuck, and after all these years you’ve finally realised your objective

Antoine: And yeah, dude….

Etoiles: peepoShy, as we say

(Second clip plays.)

Etoiles: Where are you, Antoine?

Antoine: I’m on— I’m on the blue level of the TDM (Tour de Merde)

Etoiles: Where are you, darling? I’m coming

Antoine: The blue level of the TDM

Florence: No but he’s horny, Rayou, tonight

Bagz: But Rayou— he arrived— he arrived (to the stream) saying, “I’m exhausted’, and he’s really in shape!

Antoine: He just wants to fuck, Rayou, tonight. He wants to fuck so badly tonight

Etoiles: But I said ‘darling’!

(overlapping) Bagz: In ‘Just Fucking’ (as a Twitch stream category)

Etoiles: No but I hate you all, bro

(Third clip plays.)

Antoine: I want to vape but I can’t

Etoiles: Vape my ass, dude

Antoine: Wow, what the fuck? What—

(Fourth clip plays.)

Etoiles: Well I don’t know what my favourite party is, is it the one where we played the capitals game? Or—

Antoine: Or the one where I sucked you off? Oh, no, sorry. No, you were saying? Yeah

Etoiles: That one— that one was crazy

(overlapping) Antoine: Sorry, my bad

(Fifth clip plays.)

Etoiles: Antoine I just looked at the camera, you’re incredibly handsome, dude

Antoine: Really?

Etoiles: Yeah. You have a cool look about you

Zerator: You mean, as opposed to normal?

Etoiles: Yeah, because usually you’re disgusting but here, honestly… I find you very fuckable tonight

Antoine: Well, thanks so much dude

(Sixth clip plays.)

Etoiles: Me, I’ve never cried. The only time I’ve had water on my face is when I’ve showered

Antoine: When I performed a facial on you too, no?

Florence: Oh nooooo. No but I respect it, you guys do what you want

Etoiles: Actually it’s not water it’s sperm

Antoine: In sperm there’s water, dude

(Cuts to a later portion of the same stream.)

Etoiles: Y’know you’re only gross with me, with your other friends you don’t make jokes like that

Antoine: That’s true. I don’t know why I’m like this with you. Maybe I should be asking myself questions, bro. I don’t know!

end Video Transcript.]

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……