#[ a dead woman walking; saving people but not taking the lives of others ]

[dualnaturedscientist]

Matthew knew he was allowed to walk into the house without knocking, but it made him feel better to do so. It was still his sons home and not his. He was welcome there, which made Matthew feel happy as well. The former supervillain knocked at the door a few times. It was answered by Tristan in his Wordman outfit. That was a suprise to see, but he quickly understood when walking in. In the living room, not only was there Gene and Carl talking in a serious manner but also Atomic Steele and Eletric Blur. The young man glared harshly at Matthew, causing him to let out a little sigh. "Pops, you're back. I didn't realize the time." He looked around the living room. "What happened?" Tristan decided to speak up. "Atomic Steele and Electric Blur both saved me from being taken by the mysterious enemy. It turned out to be Miss Power. I can track down my husband and brother now, but they brought something up. Atomic Steele told us about this strange warehouse. He rescued a woman from this warehouse. She was trapped inside a tube from what he said. Unfortunately, the woman believed that he was trying to harm her and escape." Matthews eyes widened. "What are these tubes like?" As much as he hated to discuss, he had to be civil. "They were attached to machines. Inside were people. I only had time to rescue the woman with platinum blonde hair. I would ask her about details but she escaped from me." Matthew had a sudden realization. The woman they were talking about. It was Evangeline. Tristan began to speak once more. "We have reason to believe that Miss Power has been connected with these strange machines. She had been taking people. It would make sense if she had been taking others as well. Imprisoning them within the tubes. We don't know if she had put them in said machines yet. But now we know the enemy. We know how to defeat her. We will bring them back safely. All of those Miss Power had taken." Matthew was silent for a moment before speaking. "Would the woman have long platinum hair, serious expression. Wearing ballerina type clothing?" He regretted asking. Atomic Steeles eyes widened. "How the hell did you know?" The scowl deepened. "I unfortunately know who you are talking about. Evangeline. She bumped into me while I was at work, so I couldn't go after her. The thing about Evangeline is that she should be either dead or very elderly by now. She's the Dazzling Dancer. Evangeline was confused by the changes of Fair City. She was talking about rescuing the others. I think she's lost because of how Fair City looks now compared to back then." They all had a shocked expression. “So she may be working with someone else. Someone who's been here a long time. She knows more about the warehouse and those machines I believe.” Tristan thought for a moment. “Give me a description and I can find her. I will bring her back here.” Matthew froze up at that. “I'm not sure.. that may be the greatest idea. Especially not here.” Atomic could've sworn he saw fear within Matthew's expression but waved it off. He didn't care if this monster feared this hero. “Why not?” Matthew took a deep breath. “Maybe bring her to my son's former lair. I don't feel comfortable with that woman coming here. Evangeline worked closely with my uncle. She was the one who trained me and obeyed my uncle's command. No matter how painful it was.”

@ninjastormhawkkat

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[afraidofchange]

Anyway I haven't really talked about it in depth, and this is not a fully researched headcanon (which I'll do eventually or at least, add sources to this one), but I think Ana's relationship with her faith is complex, and I believe she does not fully follow all aspects, but rather, chooses tenets to follow that she believes in.

So first and foremost, Islam is the dominant religion in Egypt - 90.3% of the population - and as such, not only was Ana raised as a Muslim, but the faith is also very much culturally integrated. However, as mentioned in the (old) lore and my own personal headcanon, the Amari family is a multigenerational military family, and Ana in her youth actively chose to be secular about her faith.

(also, we can infer given the iconography of Ancient Egyptian gods in Ana and Fareeha's designs, that perhaps, in the game world, some of it is still used - especially since Ana says "the Eye of Horus watches over you", but I believe 'Horus' might've been her callsign in the military. That, or Blizz really just said 'Oh, Egyptian characters? Let's use Ancient Egyptian motifs for them!')

Anyway, Ana chose to get a tattoo which is considered haram under Islamic law, and in her young skins in the game, she does not partake in wearing a hijab. So in my view, I believe she is secular and would still participate in holidays and such, but would not actively go to prayer services or other religious events. Her focus was in the military, and then of course, onto Overwatch internationally.

I also think in her relationship with Sam - who we know was a public servant, likely a diplomat - that she had probably suggested raising Fareeha in a secular way. And of course, just before or during their separation, Fareeha was spending time with her father in Canada, spending a lot of her early teen years in a totally different cultural upbringing than home in Cairo.

Religion was not much on her mind - not a lot was, besides Overwatch and her career. However, after nearly losing her life and struggling with temporary amnesia because of the trauma, she spent a lot of time trying to remember who she was, what parts of her core identity were there under the surface. When her memory returned, and Ana was putting herself back together again, she found comfort in her upbringing and a belief in God that was always there, despite not actively taking part in organized religion. In her travels as a 'dead woman', she began to practice some parts of Islam again, like choosing to wear the hijab, taking part in services in different places of the world where no one would recognize her (and where she would keep herself hidden, out of view).

While she is not strictly adherent to all laws and tenets as a Muslim, it is an active part of who she is today, and a core piece of Ana's inner identity after her near death experience. Faith keeps her grounded to the world.

[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.3)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: The drama continues and eventually cascades into other youtube comment sections. At this point, you and Spencer have no choice but to speak up.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, jealous!Spencer, angst, attempt at comedy, more angst, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning, irl celebrities.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART TWO | PART 3.5 | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as I am writing this! :D

EDIT: sorry, just noticed a sentence didn't save near the end: fixed it now!

─────── · ·

Smosh Live: (name) is going to Hollywood with Celebrity Guests Glen and Sydney!

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 132k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 1.43M views 5 days ago #10 on trending (name) and their new costars act out your stories. click to read more

2,983 Comments

username27 5 days ago WHOEVER IS ON SMOSH PR NEEDS TO GET FIRED RIGHT NOW. DO THEY NOT READ THE COMMENTS OR CHAT!!??? username49 5 days ago Never in my wildest dreams would I think this collab would happen!!! username66 5 days ago ALEX I LOVE YOU. username01 1 day ago Stay strong (youshipname) shippers! We will not falter to ANY Hollywood Heartthrobs! Spencer come get your man/woman! username35 30 minutes ago (edited) I have no idea who these people are but they make (name) sound a lot funnier! Edit: this sounds way worse than I imagined. username14 3 days ago Okay, I am a major Glen x Sydney shipper but that chemistry with (name) has me looking the other direction... username33 just now So obvious that people did not watch the whole stream. Spencer ended up dropping off more material for them to read and he just stands there, hands gripping the papers, eyes fixed on the couch and then leaves as if nothing happened BEFORE Alex came in and "fixed" it. ▼ 100 replies ↳ username66 just now HOLY SHIT! This makes it even better RAHHHHHH> * [this comment has been flagged for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE] ↳ username51 just now Jealous Spencer was not on my Smosh 2024 Bingo Card. ↳ username08 just now (edited) I have been reading wayyy to many romance novels but I was screaming at my screen for them to kiss at that moment. *correction for Spencer and (name) to kiss you weirdos!! ↳ username17 just now God I love how Alex just picks up their arm and then walks back off with a thumbs up towards the camera. When you know- you know~

username20 1 hour ago (name) if you ever read this, can you please not take their offer and go out with Sydney? You and Spencer belong together, period. username51 just now That smirk Sydney sent to the couch has my knees weak, how did everyone else act so normal?!?!? username40 just now So proud of you (name)! no one deserves this opportunity more than you, I have been following your work for years now; will be there opening night for sure!

─────── · ·

We took (name) from Smosh

Rom-Com Interviews Plus ✓ [Subscribe] Like 10k | Dislike | ... 10.1M subscribers 2.4M views 4 days ago your favorite two actors interview (name) from Smosh on their upcoming film together. get all the details and find out when and where you can get tickets for the release! click to read more

7,003 Comments

username79 4 days ago Another Glen and Sydney rom-com? count me in!!! username01 4 days ago OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY YOU DID NOT STEAL THEE (name) FROM SMOSH, FROM MY BOY SPENCER. ▼ 34 replies ↳ username08 4 days ago @ spennser!!! Be a director and fix this! We are sick of it! ↳ username87 3 days ago Okay but (name) is their own person outside of work??? Like there is little he can do if they don't want to talk... ↳ username20 1 hour ago Well... with the amount of threats on Twitter and across all Smosh socials now... I think they have little choice now, people are LIVID (me included). ↳ username87 just now But what in the para-social bullshit is this guys? Like c'mon, who gives a damn if they are dating or not- they are ACTORS! It's their literal job to have chemistry on screen ↳ username33 just now Ummm, actually! Spencer and (name) were seen together long before they both were on camera. Sure, they both have some experience with performance work but the hundreds of photos of them spending time outside of work. [Ex. vacations, pet-sitting, and dining out]. Tell us that is not just a performance!! ↳ username33 just now OH AND don't even get me started about the "similar" shirts and hoodies they "both" have... ↳ username33 just now Also... @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! @ spennser!!! RESPOND NOW. username49 2 days ago Great video! Can't wait to see (name) taking the next step in their career; a youtuber in a blockbuster movie- never thought it would happen! Keep up the great content! username51 1 hour ago What is with the Smosh community? Like who knew they were so toxic. Stay away from Glen and Sydney- they did nothing to you!! username19 30 minutes ago This is all getting out of hand now, like- downright ridiculous. What the Hell is going on at Smosh that has it spreading to other channels? username74 30 minutes ago Great interview! Don't know who this (name) person is but its great that they did so much charity work outside the office Rom-Com Interviews Plus ✓ just now Hello everyone, we have read through the enormous amount of feedback you have provided us and we will not be changing the title of this video. To clarify to those who might have skipped through some parts, (name) is NOT leaving Smosh but are going to be the co-star in Glen and Sydneys newest film together, coming out this holiday season! (name) is still very much content in their current position at Smosh and we here at Rom-Com kindly ask for all of our fans, the actors fans, and the fans of Smosh to allow everyone their privacy and to not further engage with hostility. ▼ 2 replies ↳ spennser just now Like hell they were leaving Smosh. * [this comment has been deleted on request of the user] ↳ username01 just now I saw that sir!!

─────── · ·

BREAKING: (name) seen in the background of Spencers recent stream!!

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 500k views 2 days ago click to expand

500 Comments

username01 just now I AM NOT FREAKING OUT- YOU ARE, OKAY?!>!>? cough, cough... ermm, I mean... it does awfully look a lot like them... username77 2 days ago Does not look like (name), has to be another friend, girlfriend maybe? sister? username04 1 day ago (edited) On twitter, Smosh Cast just tweeted that Spencer and (name) are scheduled for this weeks talk- makes me hopeful! ▼ 5 replies ↳ username01 1 day ago OMG REALLY?? ↳ username11 4 hours ago Can someone confirm this? ↳ username17 30 minutes ago Its real. Check it out: twitter.com/smoshcast12345. ↳ username11 just now Thank you! Sent from my iphone. ↳ username14 just now If this is not a video of them making out for a full hour then I am not accepting the apology. My heart has hurt too much BC of these two idiots.

─────── · ·

Every Apology... Ever.

Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer swear this is the only apology video they're ever going to have to make. click to read more

3,421 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator SmoshCast ✓ 2 days ago Hi everyone, Spencer and (name) here. For those who don't have time to watch the full episode today. Please note that we are still friends and have been working hard on new content both separately and together, stay tuned and remember to drink water! ▼ 769 replies ↳ username03 2 days ago Will do boss! ↳ username54 2 days ago You guys dating yet?? username66 2 days ago Someone pinch me! A full hour of just (name) and Spencer? I think I have arrived in heaven! ▼ 18 replies ↳ username69 2 days ago Toasters and bathtubs never looked like a tempting combo till now. ↳ username24 2 days ago Get help please @ username69

username56 30 minutes ago It is a monuments day to be a (yourshipname) supporter, I can't wait for the besties to be back together! (yourshipname)updates ✓ Just got inspired from this video, will be making an edits reel stat! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username04 1 days ago YES PLEASE, FEED MY DELUSIONS.

username05 1 day ago (edited) 0:17 (name): "To start off, I am still very much single and am still employed by Smosh as a cast member and producer. I would also like to apologize publicly to Spencer, the team, and the fans for being so distant lately. I have been finding it hard to manage my work here at Smosh with my outside projects. My stress and mental health was affecting more than just myself, and I came to find too late those who I had hurt in the process of my self-destruction. Which is why I took a step back..." ▼ 5 replies ↳ username11 1 days ago Yes, you clap back (name)! ↳ username14 30 minutes ago I love you (name). But why did you do those interviews if you were so stressed? ↳ username12 15 minutes ago @ username14 They were probably booked before it all happened. You know PR tours and all that. ↳ username14 just now Okay, that makes more sense now. ↳ username77 10 minutes ago Yeah, not single for long! I swear if Spencer is gonna do nothing, I am going to step up.

username33 4 hours ago 1:01 Spencer: "It makes me happy to see everyone who supports (name) and I both on and off-screen. For those who need clarification though, (name) and I have never and are not currently dating one another. We are best friends, simply put and we forgave one another right after. All I ask- we ask is for you to please respect our privacy and relationship as well as those connected to us." ▼ 12 replies ↳ username43 30 minutes ago (edited) Spencer forgot to include, "at this time" to the dating part ;) It's okay sweetie, we know whats really going on. username12 2 days ago I can't wait to see more of (names)'s projects outside of Smosh! So funny to think we'll see them on the big screen now, those interviews with Glen and Sydney make so much more sense now! Take your time on making content, take care of yourself please, I can wait a bit longer. username17 30 minutes ago Still don't know how to feel about this. Sure I am happy they are still friends, but I just have too many questions left unanswered. Like Alex and the arm placement, that deleted comment under (name)'s interview with Glen and Sydney and them potentially sharing an apartment?? username39 just now HOLY SHIT, THEY ARE BRINGING BACK BORED AF AND NOBODY THOUGHT TO TELL ME??? username99 15 minutes ago Man I missed their banter and longing stares across the table. Nothin' hits harder than (yourshipname). username39 1 day ago Spencer looked so proud of (name) when they were telling us their dream of finally staring in a movie, and a large one at that. The stars in his eyes- I want that for me. username47 just now Everyone keeps talking about how Spencer should ask out (name) but like (name) could also do it too, they seem more likely to ask Spencer out themselves. IDK just makes me think that if they were to date, they would've done so already. Kinda loosing hope here... ▼ 2 replies ↳ username33 just now Don't ever loose hope! They are both still single, theres always a chance :) ↳ username01 just now I can FEEL they are the next Shayne x Courtney. They are following all the same landmarks, I would argue with even more chemistry. username33 1 hour ago Anyone else feel like (name) is taking a major downgrade somehow? They are going from rom-com main character here at Smosh to side-character, second love interest in a film. Kinda hoped that they would've starred in something else.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: alrighty! part 3 done, how we feeling about the slowburn and one-off pieces?- good I hope because I'm already working on some more hhahahhaha

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely

[gothamite-rambler]

Dick Grayson's Robin Having No Filter and Giving His Father a Migraine

Robin!Dick: Hi Ivy!

Poison Ivy: Hi... young child. Stand over there, away from the giant rose.

Robin!Dick stepped away from the rose while staring at it mesmerized.

Robin!Dick: Can I-

Batman: I will take you home.

Robin!Dick pouted and walked off grumbling.

Ivy: He's adorable, if I didn't hate people I'd keep him. Okay, so run it back, you want me to stop my mission to protect mother earth and you were like "that's wrong for you to do". Continue with being wrong.

Batman: I should not have to explain to you how your mission to save the earth doesn't benefit people. It's destructive.

Ivy: Why? Because some people might die? A few dead bodies are worth it for saving the planet.

Robin!Dick (shocked): What?! You're killing people to do this?

Ivy: Yes... A few dead bodies are worth- Why is his face sad?

Robin!Dick (trying not cry): That's so mean.

Batman (glaring at Ivy): Now you've upset him.

Ivy (indignant): All right last I checked, the earth is dying, I'm just being honest kid. What do you want me to say? I'm not destroying the Earth, big corporations pumping out microplastics, pouring random crap in the lakes, Nestle... JUST NESTLE! They're screwing this planet like she's a two dollar hooker! I stopped eating their chocolate bars after the founder said water shouldn't be given to everybody!

Robin!Dick (shocked): Did he actually say that?

Ivy (calm): Basically he implied water shouldn't have free access because Nestle is the biggest proprietor of bottled water and no amount of explaining will ever fix the fact he said that! So whatever you're about to say, Batman, I do not want to hear it! They’re destroying ecosystems, hunting endangered species, killing crops and-

Robin!Dick (interrupting): Hold up, that's all she's trying to fix?

Robin!Dick turns to Batman.

Batman: She's not doing it in logical way.

Robin!Dick: She's a green woman who can control plants! Does she look like she wants to use our logic? No offense by the way, Ivy.

Ivy: You're fine, I love my body.

Robin!Dick (confused why they're fighting her): Why don't we help her, Batman? Has she asked for your help?

Batman (sheepish): Um... It's been brought up in the past.

Robin!Dick: Then why haven't you?

Ivy: Yeah, Batman, that so mean.

Batman: Because... She's a criminal and will let people die for the cause.

Robin!Dick: Well I mean if it's that nestle guy I don't... Don't necessarily blame her and I've seen you beat the ever loving shit out a lot of bad guys.

Batman: Language.

Robin!Dick (loud): The context needed the word. I love you Batman, I do, but let's be real you steal police information and beat up thugs. You have not paid the commissioner back for the fire hydrant incident. I'm sorry, but you break a lot of laws. You say you're doing it to save lives, so is she! Most are plant lives, but I get it. We would be arrested too, but we're lucky, she's not... it's not right.

Ivy (sincere): Thanks kid.

Robin!Dick: You're welcome and plus in any other city, we'd be going to prison. You'd be, I'd be tossed into an orphanage and that... That's not fun.

Ivy: A lot of kids in the system have been abused, he's got a point.

Batman (annoyed): Why are you arguing with me, Robin?

Robin!Dick: Because dang it, she might have a point! We can help her to a degree... In fact isn't the building we're in is being sued for what they did to a lake? All those ducks died.

Ivy (adding): Nothing can grow there for decades.

Robin!Dick: Yeah, the ecosystem is destroyed there.

Batman (yelling): Why are you ganging up on me?

Robin and Ivy: Because you know it's wrong!

Robin!Dick: You have told me you became Batman because the system is flawed and sometimes matters need to be taken into your own hands? How is she different?

Ivy: Okay... you're growing on me. Here, take a rose.

Ivy used her powers to hand the young hero a rose.

Robin (smiling and taking the rose): Aww, thank you.

Batman groaned then yanked Robin by the ear.

Batman: Excuse me, I have to talk to him in private!

Ivy: Aww, I'm starting to like the kid, go easy on him. He's smart, he knows what he's talking about.

Robin!Dick (being dragged out): Thank you, Ivy.

Ten minutes after the two argue, Batman comes to a compromise with his son and Ivy because he knows that Dick would absolutely not mind sabotaging factories or causing a fire with a supervillain to protect the planet. All he needs is a good reason.

Batman (driving them home in the batmobile): Could you not defend the actions of the bad guy in front of me next time?

Robin!Dick (eating McDonald's fries): Don't take me to one who has a point.

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

Batman searched for Robin after taking down Joker.

Batman: Robin? Where did he go?

Joker (laying on the ground as Batman presses his shoe on his back): One of my goons went after him.

Meanwhile Robin does flips, tricks and runs around the room while giggling as the goon chases after him.

Goon: Little boy, little boy stop running!

Robin ran, but when the goon tried to grab him, the young hero grabbed his hand and clamped down with his teeth making contact with the mans hand. The goon screamed in pain.

Batman: He's down the hall.

Joker: There's no... Guarantee he'll win.

Robin kicked the goon in the crotch and ran off.

Goon (weakly): Right in the kiwis.

Robin!Dick: Batman, I got the last one!

Batman: Good job, Robin.

Joker: I hate your child soldier.

Batman: Thank you, I raised him well.

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

Talia Al Ghul (to Batman): You-

Robin!Dick: You're out of his league.

Talia: What?

Robin!Dick: I'm just saying, it's obvious you have this stalker obsession with him, 'love' you like to call it, but Batman could do way better than you.

Batman chuckled covering his mouth.

Talia: Okay, I was telling him to stop his 'no-kill' rule and join the league, but also he wants me and some snot nosed brat won't have a say in any possible relationship!

Robin!Dick: Well, I'm 13 now and even I can see you shouldn't be together. Not even on a league level, but like come on, why would you get with a guy who doesn't want you or to be on your team? That's sad.

Talia (irate): You think I won't smack a teenager? I don't give a fuck!

Batman (disturbingly calm): Touch him and you'll wake up in the hospital.

Inspired by this post

[gay-dorito-dust]

Author....Halloween is the only time where the dead can go to the realm of the living as in they became more y'know physical as in people can see and interact with them...

Ghost reader watching over dipper,mabel and their friends going on trick or treating and they still refuse to see stan and ford (they're just making those 2 more miserable) but when the townsfolk see them they want to thank them but couldn't shake their hands or hug them but reader can touch them without a problem

I can just imagine that the townsfolk’s has a memorial or a statue dedicated to you, whatever for it can be up to interpretation.

So when you were watching over Dipper, Mabel, Candy and Grenda as they wandered down the decorated streets of gravity falls in their colourful costumes.

dipper and Mabel decided to dress up as salt and pepper.

Candy dressed up as candy

Grenda dressed as a princess from a show she was into currently.

They all looked fabulous and adorable that it made you wish that you were still alive to take a picture of them, but you were more then content to settle with supervising them as they went from door to door collecting treats.

Obviously you were aware that this was the only day where you could actually interact with anyone of the living realm but still you were adamant in keeping yourself away from Ford and Stanley, whom were also chaperoning the kids for once. However you also manage to catch one or two groups of people looking over at you and whispering amongst themselves for one of them to go up to you. Looks like they could see you even if you did try to hide but thankfully Ford and Stan were out of earshot when one brave soul did managed to walk up to you with a gleam in their eyes.

‘Hi! I just wanted to thank you for saving all of us and all…such a tragedy what happened to you though…’ the young woman trailed off as she looked over at the monument that mayor Fiddleford had commissioned for you personally, the hero of gravity falls they called you and according to candy and Grenda, you were being taught to kids in history lessons at school.

Which you were very touched by, but thought was unnecessary.

‘It’s fine, I just done what needed to be done for the betterment of everyone.’ You told them.

‘Even if it meant loosing everything?’ The young woman inquired.

You looked over at Dipper and Mabel who were waving happily in your direction, followed shortly by everyone else, you smiled at them before you looked back at the young woman. ‘I was more then willing to loose everything if it meant seeing everyone embrace a brighter future because of it.’ You replied with the shrug of your shoulders.

The young woman smiled ‘I would ask for a hug but…’ she trailed off and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pulled the woman into your arms, patting her back reassuringly.

‘It’s perfectly fine! Besides you can’t fully embrace me but I can perfectly embrace you to make up for it.’ You told her as you pulled away, seeing tears shine in her eyes. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ You add. ‘We made it.’

‘You saved the town for us.’ She whispered, ‘I just wish there was more we could’ve done-‘ you put your hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

‘I did save the town, so please treasure it where I cannot okay? That’s all I ask.’ You tell her and the woman smiled at you.

‘Okay.’ She said, ‘I will.’

‘Good, now have a happy Halloween kid.’ You told her as you gently pushed her towards her group of friends, watching as she rejoined the group with a bright smile and walk down the road as she told her eager friends, who looked about ready to clamour over the others just to hear of her brief interaction with you.

‘Great uncle/aunt y/n!’ Dipper cried.

‘Come on we’ve got more houses to rob of candy!’ Mabel added and you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked towards the kids, feeling in content with the fact that Gravity Falls was going to be okay without you.

Unknowing of the fact that Ford and Stan were paying respects at your grave by putting down flowers that Ford has picked up from another dimension during his thirty years, flowers that glowed a beautiful blue/red/purple colour.

‘Happy anniversary old friend.’ Ford said as he puts down the last of the flowers. ‘Wish you would reveal yourself to us so that we can apologise, but I respect your wishes if you don’t for I don’t blame you and hope you’ll rest peacefully knowing that the town is thriving because of you.’

‘You’re a true hero, and we’re the idiots.’ Stanley adds just as a particularly cold breeze brushed past them both.

[hitlikehammers]

Steddie Missed Connection AU

feat. Craigslist-trawling-wingwoman!Robin + earnest-LA-transplant!Steve + rockstar!Eddie ✨ inspired by this actual Craigslist love story

It’s always about a 50/50 shot when Robin starts making her little back-of-the-throat squealing noises. Up to a certain pitch, Steve could pretend he had his AirPods on noise cancellation mode.

Once she reached fire-alarm-screeching levels, it overrode the settings and boom: he lost his fall guy.

Thanks, Apple.

But that’s where they are, and the squealing plus the screen in her hands, plus the way her leg’s bouncing against the table they’re both sitting at—which would have overrrode Steve’s AirPod excuse in about a minute because she’s gonna start splashing his glass of orange juice in a hot second—but all of it lumped together?

He’s lucky he’s retained his athletic reflexes post-high school—maybe only because of being joined-at-the-hip with this particular platonic soulmate, really—because by the time she’s swinging her iPad from its case to plop right down in front of him?

At least he’s quick enough to save his overnight oats from becoming aluminum-flavored when she drops the goddamn thing down without warning—caseless, the heathen—and makes indecipherable noises Steve thinks he’s maybe only heard at the zoo as she taps her nail with an migraine-inducing click on the screen.

Steve…supposes this means he’s obligated to look.

He sighs, fully expecting a dumb meme or a ‘cute TikTok’ because he knows who he fucking lives with; he reaches across the table and unfolds his glasses—really, assaulting him with this before he can even get his contacts in…

And it’s a…webpage. Like: just a webpage. A boring webpage, even. Definitely not matching up with the…squealing and table-sized earthquake of bouncing knees. He squints, tries to make it make sense.

Oh. Wow. He didn’t…

Steve did not actually know Craigslist still existed, let alone that people still used it. He was pretty sure the things for sale were always just kidnapping plots with extra steps, and then also that finding a person you walked past that one time was an FYP problem to solve. But.

Here, in front of him, in black and white and honestly like no other color:

Steve squints; it was posted this morning, but only just. Like 4am. So the last afternoon for there to be a one o’clock hour was—

Yesterday.

His yesterday was uneventful. Went shopping with Robs. Filled up the freezer and overbought shit again so they had a kind of massive and wholly mismatched dinner with the leftovers nearly popping open the fridge door. Can’t take the Midwesterner out of the man or woman, apparently.

Definitely nothing like the day this poor soul on a maybe-less-dead-than-presumed website had had. But Steve won’t pretend his heart doesn’t clench a little when he finishes reading because…it’s cheesy.

But Steve’s always been into that romantic…stuff.

“That’s very sweet,” he lands on commenting before passing the tablet back to Robin, who’s staring at him with frankly terrifying eyes. Like: lost-your-fucking-mind eyes.

“Steven.”

“What?”

“Steven.”

“Robin.”

He won’t even pretend he doesn’t jump with the metal slams on the wood where Robin narrowly misses flipping his bowl of sadly-abandoned oats with her iPad again when she slaps it down in from of him and points frantically yet again.

“Look at the location.”

Steve tilts his head.

Oh. He’d just looked at the time. And it’s not like the location in the title was…unique on its own.

“Huh,” he huffs with a shrug when he sees their part of the city listed in the main link up top. “Coinkydink.”

Robin’s growl starts deep, like a diaphragmatic thrum and Steve would be terrified of her if she were anyone else.

As it is: he’s only mildly unsettled. Specifically because the growl rumbles so…long.

Like at least a minute before she screams bloody fucking murder:

“My hair was in the buns!”

And the way she screeches it, and the maniacal twitch of those eyes…she’s saying more than those words, with those words.

Which means Steve has to put in effort to follow her coded message style of communicating, fucking hell. He hasn’t even eaten his breakfast.

He tries to think it through, at least manages to down his glass of OJ so it can’t be a sacrifice to flying iPads when he thinks he…

“Wait.”

Steve frowns. Robin just blinks.

“You don’t,” he shakes his head, or starts to, it’s a slow motion thing; “you don’t like honestly think,” but even as he’s saying it, the look in her eyes starts to make sense, and answers for him:

“This is not about me.”

Because: seriously.

“We were laughing!” Robin is immediate with her rebuttal, still in her screeching era. “No one else was there!”

“Because we specifically time our shopping for when people are at lunch on a weekday,” Steve counters quick, tries to cut her off at the pass; “a statistically slow window of opportunity for us to debate the list!”

“We write the list to avoid debating,” Robin answers in a more sedate, be reasonable now, dingus tone before she shakes her head and scowls and:

“Stop distracting me!”

Yep, back to the screeching.

“Why were you even on that fucking site?” Steve sighs as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.

“Steven,” Robin says again in that fucking tone that always means he’s missing the biggest, far-more-important point but does jack shit to help him find it.

“Robina.”

“Not my name, eww.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when you make up a middle name for me,” Steve sticks his tongue out very maturely to her scrunched up face: “they’re never even nice ones,” he adds, because they’re really not; “and I do know that was your next move so,” he smacks his hands opposite the screen on the table in front of him in victory as he crows:

“Denied.”

“This isn’t basketball,” Robin’s working her tongue around her lips inside her mouth, which is always deadly foreshadowing; “you didn’t block my shot or whatever—“

“Didn’t I?” Steve pushes because, well, one, he did, and two, the original conversation was absurd even for them.

“Maybe it was so empty because his security was there.”

Steve frowns. The tone’s too…even. No. No: too haughty.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“I said he looked like a rockstar,” she leans to grab back her tablet and poke near the top, obviously switching browser tabs: “so I did some digging.”

“Robin, what city do we live in?” Steve asks as she works, because yes, Steve remembers seeing a very hot fucking dude staring less in their direction than looking dumbstruck-lost as hell, and he’d considered walking over to ask if he needed help—Midwestern transplant to the bone—which was accompanied by the stray I’d fuck that gorgeous toothpick silly, but in the paper product aisle, like on the 48-count pack of Charmin, he looks soft under all that leather—then both thoughts were swiftly abandoned when the toothpick’s eyes met Steve’s and Steve maybe had to force himself to finish laughing at a joke he can’t remember now, that Robin told, because his skin felt like it was burning a little except the sun had poked behind a cloud, and his throat, it had like, it had just, it—

It just felt…weird.

He does remember that.

“But we don’t see rockstars every day,” which is fair, their neighborhood in particular is less music biz than others.

“Plus, look at this!”

Then she’s shoving the iPad back in front of Steve: it’s a TMZ shot or some other pap photo that’s more than half blur. It is indeed the parking lot at their Costco. And it does…feature a toothpick-esque figure looking similar to the one Steve remembers, but it’s more from the back than the side. And like, anyone can wear that much black in the summer. It’s a free country.

“And look at him!”

She split-screens to a Wikipedia article about a band even Steve’s heard of, if not for listening to them himself. It…he glances at the paparazzi shot.

Lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin Sighted Getting Groceries Just Like Normal People in Mar—

And then he looks back to the wiki: okay. Same band name. The guy with the guitar in the photo looks…

He has the same hair.

“Don’t tell me it’s just coincidence.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“It is just coincidence.”

“Steve.”

Steve feels his face sour.

“I know that tone,” because he does. It never leads to things he enjoys.

“You’ve thought about him.”

“He was gorgeous,” Steve thinks he surprises her with his honesty but like, what does he have to gain by lying? Plus:

“LA’s is like the plastic surgery capital of the fucking world, it’d be kinda sad if a lot of people generally weren’t pretty.”

“He wasn’t that kind of pretty.”

And fuck if they don’t share a brain cell; fuck if she doesn’t see right through him.

“And that’s not why you’ve been thinking about him.”

And fuck if she doesn’t know Steve, far too well.

“I never once said I’d been thinking about,” he hears the words and knows they’re weak, goddamnit.

“You never had to,” Robin smiles a little and taps an annoying finger at the screen again, that’a somehow flipped right back to the Craigslist ad thingy.

And she’s actually not entirely right, because he hadn’t thought much about the gorgeous toothpick man with curls Steve wanted to be smothered by, suffocate in like a pillow. But when he did?

He’d thought most about how he looked soft, on the inside. Thought wild and idiotic things like maybe his soft could match Steve’s soft when no one else’s ever had and he was always left bruised for it, more than once near-unhealable, and maybe they could, like, if their softnesses matched, then like—

Something.

But Steve always comes on too strong, wants too much, hopes to hard and way too fast, though this shit might take the cake, there: so it was idiotic and he’d left that train of thought to derail on its own and—

Did that come on too strong?

His gaze snags on the words, those exact words up on the screen and he’s very tempted to start growling deep in the pit of his stomach, take a cue from Robin’s absurdity.

“Don’t you have a class to get to?” Steve asks, looking pointedly at the clock on the microwave: he knows she does. Pottery making. For self-edification.

She scowls but looks—swears colorfully because it’s later than she thought as she jumps up and goes to presumably…do whatever she does in the bathroom to get ready to leave and look her lesbian-luring best before she gets smattered in wet clay.

Steve remains unclear on whether that look’s more or less attractive to the specific ladies she’s trying to bait.

Either way: it prompts Robin to drop her one-woman campaign insisting Steve’s soulmate of the romantic flavor is calling our desperately into the void of the internet. But it also, however, has the…side-effect of making the time itself an obvious thing. 11:09.

Rob’s gonna take the car, she���s got…supplies and stuff.

Why that’s important is…lost on him.

He could debase himself and brave the bus, if he got off at Washington and—

What the fuck.

What. The. Fuck.

Steve very forcefully shoves Robin’s iPad back across the table and doesn’t think about anything, especially not the numbers, like the number 214, like two hours and fourteen minutes until—

Steve nearly chokes himself on his fucking spoon with how violently he shoves it, full of oats, between his lips. As if he can shut his brain up as easy as he can his mouth.

It…actually kinda works. He might have chipped a tooth.

——————

In the end, Steve is proud of himself for being reasonable and having standards. He doesn’t take a fucking bus to meet a stranger in a Costco parking lot, Jesus Christ. Come on.

He books an Uber.

(And yes, he and Robin agreed no solo Ubers for a month to save up to have the air conditioner looked at before it copped out on them because their landlord only gave a shit if it was dead-dead and yes, maybe she’d gone so far as to put their account on a hold you had to call and remove to avoid temptation—though of the two of them, she definitely had the bigger problem—but little did she think on the fact that while you had to link a phone number, you could just use Google Voice and make a new account and no, Steve’s not insane, or a hopeless romantic, or almost-asking-for-heartbreak-on-the-regular, thank you very much.

He is resourceful. And it’s only like $15 with tip. It’s a quick ride.)

He asks to be dropped near the back of the lot, and takes the walk up slow. Almost goes the long way, straight into the store. Almost turns back entirely.

But then he sees those curls.

And his throat does the…the weird tight thing for no fucking reason, and his feet don’t ask permission to walk in the direction of the man standing…less dumbstruck, now. Even from the back it’s clear.

Now: he’s waiting.

Steve can barely breathe, can’t fucking swallow for the state of his throat, but his feet still aren’t waiting for permission, so it’s only fucking seconds before he’s close enough to catch a whiff of cologne and then—

“Sorry,” Steve ducks around the man from behind and reaches out automatically to steady him when he startles. “Hey, sorry, you just looked like maybe you were looking for something?” Steve smiles as open, as reassuring as he knows. “Just wanted to check if you needed any help.”

Keep it casual, Steve, keep it fucking friendly and extra polite and—

“Oh my god.”

The guy barely breathes it out, his eyes so wide, and Steve doesn’t know why he hasn’t moved his hand from the guy’s arm but Steve can feel the electric current that runs through him, like the finest grade of trembling. And electricity, right, it travels. Conducts.

In case you felt your heart skip just one beat, didn’t even have to full-on stop—

And even that proximity to this man is nothing compared to hearing his voice, low and a little syrupy even as he stares in shock, in disbelief—and oh. Oh, but what was it the guy had written in his post? About feeling the earth move a little, or like, rewiring your cells just for meeting eyes?

Steve, he’s…

Yeah. Yeah.

Okay.

“You’re here.”

Steve blinks, rocked back to the moment to deal with the new tilt of the globe and the spontaneous realignment of his insides later. This guy’s looking at Steve like he’s unbelievable, like he’s miraculous, like he’s…

Sunshine.

“I’m here?” Steve asks, a little breathy, a little curious.

“I,” the guy swallows, lips shiny as he bites at them, fucking adorable; “I saw you, umm, yesterday and I maybe, well, possibly I wrote some,” he fumbles and sounds like he’s building up to eventual hysterics, so Steve acts wholly on instinct and reaches further now to catch at both his hands.

“Relax,” Steve breathes out with a smile, and doesn’t overthink smoothing his thumbs over the guy’s knuckles, just in case it soothes him.

“My friend,” Steve lets go with one hand and grabs his phone to show the page he’d loaded on the ride here; “she was convinced it was you, about me. I wasn’t, so,” he shakes his head quick when something falls in the guy’s face, something dims: oh, umm, no.

He cannot have that.

“Not trying to catch you out or something,” Steve exhales it warm, as reassuring as he can, with his whole chest as he grabs the guy’s hands in both his own again—since he seemed to not mind; “just,” and Steve shrugs even as he smiles a little, less self-deprecating with it than he’d probably have landed on if the guy hadn’t reacted to Steve’s hands on his by clinging back so tight:

“Just a little hard to believe, is all.”

The man barely lets the words settle before his jaw drops almost comically and he demands, high-pitched and somehow still rumbling, something commanding in it nonetheless:

“How?”

Like it’s unimaginable. Like Steve reading that post and walking into this lot and striding up to a perfect stranger—who may or may not be very famous but that’s actually not even a little bit of the point—but a stranger who would want to see him—

But then Steve’s meeting the guy’s eyes again; hadn’t wholly realized he’d been staring at their hands more than anything. Those eyes are like the night sky, swirling and endless and sparking in the right slant of light, and Steve feels them like a welcome, like a cushion of the stars, like a safe landing in a chaotic universe.

He doesn’t even know this man.

But he thinks…yesterday. Yesterday, his heart didn’t stop, not like this guy had written, but Steve understands now what it did do instead, the thing he did remember, the tightness in his throat: his heart didn’t stop.

It just surged upward and took up residence to pound at his trachea where it tripped instead. Which is kinda where he’s back to right now.

“Could I,” the guy’s voice is rough, shaky, and so is he, Steve feels it where he’s still got his hand gripped firm; “would it be too much to ask if I could hug you?”

And he huffs a breath, and it sounds too….too small, like he’s afraid or ashamed and it pings something hateful, but so much more protective in Steve’s blood just to hear it as he confesses on a end of an exhale:

“I just want to know if you’re real.”

And Steve didn’t grow up a hugger, but he sure as shit’s grown into one; he’d be one of those people standing in the city with a ‘Free Hugs’ sign without much convincing. But this guy.

This man in front of him who may or may not be famous, is definitely a stranger either way save that he poured out some lines on the internet that maybe exceeded the term ‘heartfelt’ by a mile, who may or may not be standing in here, inside this moment, for something like fate because…Steve did feel it.

Maybe he didn’t think twice about the immensity it could have, not in the moment, because he’d been shopping, and Robin’s story was funny and maybe he was just struck by his luck in living a life with his platonic soulmate and knowing joy; surely your heart can trip for that and just because it never had before, just because it did this one first time when he crossed eyes with a genuinely beautiful man who left Steve with half-a-second’s certainty that looking any longer would flay wide this unknown person’s soul for Steve to sift through: but Steve felt things like that easy, always had. Romanticized nothings like it was a profession.

But it never hit like this had, has—is—before, if indeed this is actually anything—

And Steve’s heart is still tripping but it’s back in his chest, and he knows it because where he’s pressed against this guy’s kinda-gasping chest, now, close and tight? Maybe Steve’s never paid attention before, or maybe Steve’s just never…touched like this before, even if all they’re doing is hugging in a fucking parking lot.

But.

He’s pressed there and his heart’s tripping in his chest and he knows it wholly and fully because he can feel this man’s heartbeat next to his own—and where it should be a battle, because it’s pounding, both of them are, one side literally against the other?

It feels like a caress. It feels like, like…

Steve closes his eyes tight because they start to sting with the single word it feels like: impossible, absurd, but…

Here he is. He’s never felt someone’s heartbeat pressed up against his own before. Definitely never felt—never dreamt—that it could feel like it fits.

He leans back when he thinks he’s got a hold on the hopelessness of his tender-hearted absurdity, but the guy is staring at him already when he does and suddenly Steve’s got a handle on absolutely nothing except his pulse jackrabbiting some more but then also feeling…like it lost something. Like it’s not complete.

And the man, he’s staring with those eyes so wide again but now it’s like he’s…it’s kinda like he knows. He knows his eyes are going to let Steve flay him wide open.

It’s like he’s begging Steve to…look. To look and less to take, and more to…have.

Maybe, maybe to keep?

And…how?

“Do you feel it?” the guy whispers, those deep dark eyes so big: just these vulnerable, bleeding hearts on main. “Even just—“ he tries to walk back, to open it all up wider, desperate and hopeful and Steve hears all of it because it’s all written in the same key as all that Steve knows, all that Steve is. Somehow.

Somehow.

So Steve blinks, too many times before he grabs the man harder and drags him in again to hold, hold, hold until the heartbeat on either side of Steve’s ribs is reaching for the other, touching. Until they’re holding on, too, and once they do, then he can whisper, warm and maybe wet in the crook of this man’s neck, this stranger who’s holding onto his heart now, unfathomable, as he speaks words he doesn’t have to think about first to know they’re going to shift the world again, this time so they both can know it in the souls of them together, all at once:

“I feel it.”

For @hbyrde36, who requested 'Missed Connection AU' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth

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💫 ao3 link here

[kneazle]

Clandestine meetings were something Tommy was very familiar with back when he was in the closet. He just never thought he would be having one again–though this time it had nothing to do with a relationship he was trying to hide or sex.

Tommy spotted the person he was meeting the second he walked into the diner, a place out of the way that was known to truckers traveling in and out of LA. He gave the older woman at the counter a brief smile as he walked to the back corner booth. He slid across from the other occupant who slid a cup of coffee across the table. No words were exchanged as he put his normal two creams two sugars in–her gaze on him the whole time.

"What changed your mind?" She asked, not beating around the bush and he was glad for it. This wasn't exactly how Tommy wanted to spend his day off, but it was needed.

"It's become worse," Tommy told her, the anger seeping into his tone.

"I'm curious," She took a drink from her own coffee, "Two weeks ago you called me asking for my help to get Gerrard out of the 118, changed your mind three days later because Buck begged you not to do anything, and now you changed your mind again?"

He shook his head, leaning forward making her eyes narrow in interest, "I dont just want him out of the 118 anymore– I want him fired."

"What happened?"

"Evan happened."

Taylor moved her coffee aside and leaned in herself, arms crossed on the table as worry crossed her face, "Tommy?"

"I knew it was a possibility that Gerrard would risk one of their lives at some point– he has a history of leaving people to die, I should know–" Tommy began, Taylor sucked in a breath at his words, "But a foolish part of me hoped he learned his lesson in that at least."

"But he didn't."

Tommy shook his head, "They had a call at an apartment fire, and Evan was trapped. Gerrard wanted to leave him saying they wouldn't be able to get to him, luckily he wasn't the one in charge of the scene or–" He stopped and pushed back the emotion trying to rise to the surface, or he'd be dead was left unsaid, "I can't sit back and do nothing, if Evan is upset when he finds out then so be it, it's worth it to keep him and everyone I care about at the 118 safe."

"It's going to take a lot more to get him fired then just getting him removed."

"I know, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I know you still care about him Taylor, are you in?"

"Yes," She answered, no hesitation, "And I already have an idea of where we can start–"

It took two months to gather everything they needed to get him removed, a lot of it involving both of their connections, and people Tommy helped save who he kept in contact with and were willing to be their eyes when it was safe to at calls the 118 went out on. Video evidence against Gerrard grew, but they had one more plan to go through as a backup in case the videos of his behavior weren't enough. It wasn't something he was looking forward to and it would be the part to upset Evan, but Gerrard was dangerous and Tommy would protect Evan and the 118 even if it resulted in their first fight.

All they had to do was wait for the right moment.

When that time came, Tommy who was on the same scene as the 118, discreetly sent a text to Taylor. No one noticed Taylor Kelly standing with the crowd of on-lookers disguised and hiding her hair in a hat. Tommy clocked her and made sure most of his back was to the video she was recording, that way no one could see or hear what he was saying except Gerrard who stopped in front of him with a sneer. Tommy fixed himself and his body to look as if he was afraid to anyone watching the video, and he began speaking the practiced words. Gerrard’s face changed from disgust to anger.

Gasps came from every direction as the older man's fist came in contact with Tommy's face. Right there for three stations to witness along with multiple civilians.

"Tommy!" He heard Evan shout as the 118 rushed over, Eddie psychically putting himself between Gerrard and Tommy as Evan grabbed for Tommy to gently turn his head checking his soon-to-be bruised face. He was surprised the old man had such a right hook still. Hen stepped in, her eyes worried but Tommy gave her and Evan both a reassuring smile despite the slight jolt at the action.

"That was uncalled for Gerrard!–" Tommy heard Chimney start in on him, but couldn't see him as Evan and Hen were in front of him, and Eddie stood in protective mode making sure he didn't come at Tommy again.

Tommy felt a swirling of love for all of them in his chest and knew this was the right choice even more.

"I'm alright I promise," Tommy told them, his hand squeezing Evan's before pulling away reminding himself that they were still at work–and made a deal when they first started dating to keep it professional.

Tommy's captain and the other stations captain had come over and pulled Gerrard away, their faces furious.

He accepted the ice pack Hen handed him, and moved over to where the crowd was gathered.

"Tommy what–" Evan followed after him confused, the sound of the others boots trailed after.

"You get all that?" Tommy asked Taylor when he was close enough.

"What the hell is going o–" Evan cut off with a noise of surprise, eyes wide as Taylor grinned and took off her hat and glasses.

"Got it all," She waved her phone in the air briefly before smiling at the others with a nod.

"Uh–" Hen gestured at the two with her hands, "What is going on here?"

Tommy sighed and motioned for them to move more to the side, "Taylor and I have been working to get Gerrard fired."

"You were...working with Buck's ex?" Chimney looked back and forth between the three of them.

Tommy shrugged, "I did what had to be done."

"I feel like my head is going to explode," Evan mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes as if he was seeing things, "You weren't meeting up with co-workers..you were planning with Taylor?"

He nodded, now reaching for Evan's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Hold on–" Eddie chimed in, "So that punch–"

"Was supposed to happen."

"You purposely got yourself punched?!– I mean I'm glad it looks as if the guy is done for but are you kidding me Tommy?"

All of them backed away at Evan's tone.

"Uh- I love you?"

"Thomas Kinard–"

"Uh oh he brought out the full name," Chimney mumbled as they all backed away more.

Except all Evan did was cup Tommy's good side and pull him in for a kiss.

[mrs-hatake]

Jealous, jealous, jealous girl!

pairing: sylus x afab!reader

Surveying the N109 Zone is not a regular occurrence in your agenda…is what You told Yourself at first. In the beginning, You’d just patrol around Sylus’ neighborhood, ensuring that that sneaky little fox isn’t up to no good. Somehow, as the days turned into weeks, watching over the N109 Zone has become a habit that you can’t seem to break free from. 

But Your endeavor isn’t fruitless. Though You have yet to witness Sylus competing any sort of felonies, You have stopped petty criminals from harassing the few innocent civilians living in the zone. At the mere sight of crime, You’ll wear a porcelain maroon mask (one that You’ve purchased so that Sylus won’t recognize you), jump out of Your car and head straight into battle. 

The crimes aren’t much to begin with but the more You get involved, the lesser they’ve been committed. Your assistance even made news into their shoddy newspapers. Masked hero saves The Zone! Is how most of the headlines are read. 

Tonight has been a quiet night. There are not bored looking children roaming the streets for some highly inappropriate prank that’ll cost the city quite a few millions in damages —not that the city council will do anything about it.  You don’t spot shady looking people who are breaking and entering. It’s a silent night. Still, You wait out a few minutes, just to make sure that everything’s good before You leave. 

Just as You’re about to press the grey button to start the engine, a familiar tuft of hair catches Your eyes.

Sylus, in his glorious height and broad shoulders, leisurely walks from around the block. A hand casually slipped into the pocket of his dark jeans pants. Though the man is giving the aura of friendliness, You can tell that Onychinus’ leader is on high alert. His shoulders being slightly elevated is a dead give away. 

You observe the man, following his every move, ready to strike when needed. Despite the fact that the two of you have gotten closer in recent months, You still can’t fully trust Sylus. How can You when he’s a crime lord?

As You continue to watch, Your tense muscles relax. It truly does seem that Sylus is simply out for a walk. In the back of Your mind, You vaguely remember Sylus informing You that he has trouble sleeping at night. Maybe tonight is one of those nights and he thought that strolling through the city might tire him enough until he sleeps. 

Just like earlier, You’re about to start Your car when a figure appears from the shadows. 

High heels step into the street lights, black leather gleaming under the artificial lights. They’re adorned on feet that carry long and smooth pairs of legs. Supple thighs are barely hidden by a blood dress, too short and revealing to be worn in the dangerous streets of N109. 

Sylus is a crime lord, that much is true, but You don’t believe he’d do something to an innocent woman but You can never be too sure. 

With a bated breath, You watch as the two about to cross paths. They’ll pass each other and You’ll be reassured, once again, that Sylus isn’t all that bad. 

However, the mysterious woman stopping directly in front of Sylus catches you off guard. Her boldness as she runs her finger down Syulus chest, the very same one that’s been haunting You in Your dreams, has You gawking in disbelief. 

Her flirtatious demeanor that is eagerly reciprocated by Sylus has You double taking at the exchange. Yeah, Onychinus’ leader can come off as flirty with You at times but it’s never anything serious. Yet, seeing Sylus’ lips curly lazily as his eyes appreciatively roam over the woman’s figure has Your chest feeling hollow. 

Without a thought, You shove Your car door open and march to where the two are. 

Thoughts of Sylus’ teasing remarks, him relentlessly calling You kitten, sweetie and other frivolous pet names, the nonstop skinship, all of those seemingly insignificant moments has Your footsteps thundering down the chewing gum covered pavement. 

Once they’re within reach, You impulsively yank Sylus away from the woman and step between the two of them.

Purple eyes that can be mistaken for sugilite blink with incredulity. The woman’s—whom Your brain tauntingly marvels at her beauty—pouty lips part ways, as if to defend herself but You don’t let her. 

“Sorry.” You press Yourself closer to a stupor caught Sylus. Glaring at the woman, You continue,  “He already has someone to warm his bed at night.”

“What?” Both Sylus and the woman ask, as if they haven’t heard what You had said. 

You don’t repeat Yourself but the fire burning in Your gaze is warning enough for the woman to back off. 

Suddenly, a quick bark of laughter cuts through the night air.

The nerve of the woman to laugh at You! 

Behind You, a voice sighs, “Y/N.”

The heated glare is now directed at Sylus who has his face hidden behind his large hand. 

“And you!” You shove Your finger into his rock solid abs, “How dare you seduce me and flirt with another woman?” You spit out the words in his face.

“I-” Sylus tries to explain but You cut him off. 

“I took You for many things, Sylus, but a womanizer wasn’t one of them!” Your tone is cold and disapproving. 

Sylus, despite being on the receiving end of Your venomous words and harsh glare, stares down at You in amusement. This only adds fire to the fuel.

 “What’s so funny?!” Your gaze shifts between the giggling woman and the amused looking Sylus, nausea churning Your stomach. You need to leave before You continue making a fool out of Yourself. Screw Sylus for his flirtatious nature. And screw him for playing with Your heart. 

“Relax Y/N.” A familiar voice stops You from running away in embarrassment and driving all the way home with Your vision filled with tears. 

“Kieran?” You blink in astonishment at the…woman? “What?”

Kieran chuckles, his gaze soft and apologetic. “I’m not stealing your man, don’t worry.”

When You’re still staring at him with shocked confusion, Kieran explains, “Boss and I are luring out a rival kingpin who has been relentlessly targeting our organization.”

“But,” You tilt Your head, still trying to process what has been said to You, “why are you dressed as a woman?”

Vibrant red colors Kieran’s cheeks, amplifying his beauty. He avoids meeting Your eyes as he explains, “The dirtbag has a specific type of woman and I’m the only one who matches the description. Luke’s sick so…” he rubs the back of his neck.

An awkward silence envelopes around the both of you. It is only interrupted by Sylus’ chuckle. 

As if remembering his existence, Your entire body flushes in embarrassment as Your behavior from earlier caught up to You.  

“So you’ve been warming up my bed?” His eyebrow rises when You turn to face him, “I’ve been wondering why I’ve been sleeping so restfully the past few days.”

Mortified, Your hands shoot out to push Sylus away but he catches Your wrists in a strong grip, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” 

Sylus leans forward, his lips a hair's breadth away from yours, “Never.” 

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (21)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, romance, a little angst

Indecent Proposal (20)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Doll, you need to calm down. I’m fine,” Steve sighs deeply. He cannot stop you from cleaning his knuckles with a swap. “We want you to eat something and have a warm bath.”

“Y/N,” Bucky runs his hand over your back. “Stevie is right. Let him clean his knuckles. I’ll get you something to eat.”

You shake your head and grab Steve’s wrist when he tries to pull away. “No. I need…I need something to do to keep my mind off what happened. Please let me do this.”

Both men look at each other and swallow thickly. It was more than a close call. They believed you were safest at their home. How very wrong they were.

One simple lie and the woman attacking you sneaked inside their well-guarded home to fulfill her mission. – To kill you and your babies.

“Steve,” Bucky knows exactly what’s going on in his husband’s mind, “don’t. We couldn’t know she’d try to sneak inside our home. She was bold and determined, I give her that.”

“We promised Y/N to protect her and failed,” Steve sniffs. “How can she still feel safe if that woman could easily sneak inside our home.”

“The security was looking for Rumlow, not that nurse. How should we have known, Steve? Sometimes we fuck things up. It happens.”

“It cannot happen, Buck!” Steve angrily replies. “We have a pregnant wife, and that woman almost killed her and our babies!”

You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “It’s not your fault. Bucky saved me.”

“Because he’s a horny bastard,” Steve wraps his arms around you and brings you in his lap. “I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if he wasn’t such a horny dog.”

“Same—” Bucky is unusually silent tonight. He blames himself for not walking you to the bathroom. If only he followed you the moment you told him you needed to pee, the attack could’ve been avoided.

“It’s not your fault either, Buck. You saved me with your incredible knife skills,” you drip your head to look at Bucky. “Come here for cuddles.”

“Only for a moment. I need to talk to Jake about the security cameras and check on the gate again. We cannot risk another lapse.”

Bucky joins you and Steve. He wraps both of you in a hug and nuzzles his face in his husband’s neck. For a few moments, he allows himself to be a loving husband and soon-to-be father.

The moment he leaves the room, he’ll turn into the stone-cold mobster his enemies fear. He’ll give Rumlow no chance to escape or get even close to you.

Steve was right. It’s hunting season and James Buchanan Barnes will be the hunter bringing Rumlow down.

“Barnes, you can’t be serious,” Natasha hisses. “I was nothing but loyal to you, Steve, and your organization. I’d never betray you.”

“You’ve been loyal to the money you got from us. Nothing else. You don’t know shit about loyalty and to die for the people close to you. If you are standing in my way in this, I’ll make sure that you get out of my way.”

“Bucky,” she tries to sweet-talk herself out of the more than dangerous situation she’s in. If Bucky knows that she warned Rumlow, and told him to leave town weeks ago, she will end up dead. Just like the nurse. “I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

“We know,” Bucky sneers at Natasha. “This is about some woman who didn’t respect boundaries. She tried to kill Steve to have me all for herself.”

Bucky points at the manila folder on Natasha’s desk.

Natasha quirks a brow. She opens the folder and thumbs through the pages. “I see. She killed herself.” She hums. “But what has this to do with Rumlow?”

“She’s his ex-girlfriend. He didn’t take it well that she left him to live a better life in the big city. Rumlow took it even worse that she killed herself because I wouldn’t let her murder my husband.”

“In other words,” Natasha sighs deeply, “your dick got you in trouble.”

“That’s not funny, Romanoff,” Bucky spats. “If you know where Rumlow is, this is your last chance to help us. Think about it.” He places an envelope filled with money on her desk. “I’ll give you a choice.”

“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows.

“You can stand there and lie to me to protect Rumlow, or you’ll take the money to go on a vacation after you tell me where he is,” Bucky slides a knife out of his sleeve. He twirls it between his fingers while keeping an eye on Natasha. “I cannot guarantee your safety if you decide on protecting him, though.”

“You’re threatening me, Barnes?“ She huffs to sound confident, but in reality, she fears for her life.

“No,” he steps closer, holding his knife in a tight grip. “I’m telling you exactly what’s going to happen.” Bucky takes another step toward Natasha to underline his words. “I do not threaten people. If I tell you that I’m going to kill you, then you’ll end up dead.”

She sucks in a breath. Natasha is by all means not a damsel in distress or easily scared. This doesn’t mean she she's not intimidated when an angry James Buchanan Barnes stands in front of her, a knife in his hand.

“You can have a good life, Natasha,” he whispers lowly. “Enough money to fulfill all of your wishes.” Bucky dips his head to look at the pictures on her desk. “If you want to leave town, we can arrange that too. New identity, new life. No problem.”

“I only need to rat Rumlow out,” she bitterly replies. “It’s like I killed him myself if I do so.”

“Natasha, he sent that woman to kill Y/N and our babies. If he wants us dead because his ex-girlfriend killed herself, fine. But he went after Y/N. She has nothing to do with this shit. Rumlow crossed more than one line. You know that.”

“He tried to kill the babies?” Her eyes widen, and she drops the picture in her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me this first?”

“I thought you heard it through the grapevine,” Bucky scoffs. “So, what will it be, Nat? Are you in or out?”

“I tried to save his life, believing he’s after you because he tries to bring your empire down. I believed he’s a good cop, nothing else, Bucky.” She drops the manila folder on her desk. “If this is a vendetta because of some girl, he’s all yours.”

Bucky watches Natasha grab her phone. “I assume you’re all in.”

“I don’t want to know what happened to him. Barnes, whatever you do to him, his body cannot be found in my town. Get rid of him. Throw him into the Grand Canyon. I don’t care. Just don’t do it in my town.”

“Fine.”

“I can’t guarantee that he’s there,” she says while scribbling down two addresses and two phone numbers. “The first number is his normal phone. The other one is a burner phone he used to call me a few weeks ago. Maybe your little geek can trace one of his phones.”

“That’s a start,” Bucky grabs the piece of paper. “I was never here.” He warns, still not convinced that Natasha is on their side. “Remember, you didn’t hear of Rumlow for weeks and know nothing about his activities.”

“You should’ve been a man and come here yourself, not send a girl. If you want something to be done right, do it yourself.”

He can hear Rumlow suck in a breath at the end of the line. If only he stays on the phone for a little longer, Jensen can trace his phone and find out where the bastard is hiding.

Bucky squares his jaw and takes a deep breath. He hates being like this, but this can’t be helped.

“You know, she died too fast for my taste. I would’ve liked hurting her for a little longer. She tried to kill my wife and babies after all.”

“You damn bastard,” Rumlow growls into the phone. “First my girl, and then her sister? How can you look in the mirror, you monster.”

“What do you want to do about it?” Bucky laughs into the phone. “How about you man up and we meet to settle things between us…”

He dips his head to look at Jensen, his brows furrowed.

Jake nods silently pointing at the computer to tell Bucky he found Rumlow’s position…

Part 22

Tags in reblog.

[nina-renmen]

Bloodied Love

Yandere Homelander x supe reader pt.1

Summary: He never expected to have a soulmate. His mark was never there, so what happens once it appears where you touched him? A girl like you, not even human. You fed off of his kind, but that dosn’t deter him from the horrors he has planned. You deprived him of your love, and now he won’t let go of you…even if he has to kill you.

Warnings: This is a Yandere fic so there will be blood, gore, ect. There will be nsfw themes and scenes in here as well as drugging and other things. Reader is not a human but she’s a water and air spirit called a Nokken. Reader has a hatred for humans

A mysterious dark figure has yet again saved the city once more. Could this be a new hero on the rise? Stay tuned for more-“ 

A [skin color] hand pressed the big red button on the dainty remote. Though her strength was controlled she almost crushed it. “Looks like someone’s getting famous.” Y/n looked away from the black screen and towards her friend. Her milky white eyes began shifting back into their natural [eye color] shade. “I guess.” Y/n mumbled. Her sharp claws slowly retracting. Almost like bear claws. “Dosn’t really matter when we have hero’s killing innocent civilians.” Y/n stated, standing up she towered over her friend, “You know Ivan…I’m not even sure if this hero thing is what I want.” 

The shorter male who at the time was drinking a glass of wine had choked on the bitter substance. His black soulmate mark seemed to jump as he shifted quickly. The dark red liquid running down his chin as he scrambled to wipe it away. “What?! How come?” Ivan asked, his honey brown eyes widened. “It’s not because of that accident right?! Because if that’s it you should know that it’s not knew-“ 

“Thats the problem…I-“ Y/n paused as her radio began to go off. Signaling an attack. Ivan tilted his head towards the door as he looked down at y/n’s outfit. “You’re still in your suit. Best get going.” He said in a fatherly tone. Y/n smile but scoffed in order to cover it up. She walked out the front door. Her body taking her towards the site immediately.

She could still feel his blood on her. The blood of her comrades she worked with, the blood of Ivan. The gaze of his blood still lingered in his mouth. There was nothing left, only his half eaten head that lie in the ground. A horrified expression laid on his dead face. She didn’t feel that urge anymore. That burning sensation that told her to eat, eat, eat. 

She knew she didn’t want to. He gave her no choice!! He was out for her blood! He was out for her abilities! She was just big game to him. A long cat and mouse game that she was oblivious to playing. A bounty on her head! He only wanted the money, he was like all the other rotten humans in this world! All the dirty, disgusting, vermin-

A single drop was able to knock her from her thoughts. And then the camera flashing began as she stood at the foot of the plane. American press were taking pictures of her. Fans screamed her name, but y/n’s smile had not reached her eyes. For she held no pleasure in standing before these people. Her mother country, Brazil had sent their number one hero to help America. A oncoming agreement came from the two countries and a treaty was made. America gives them resources and money and they gave up…..her. But that did not mean she would abandon her past. Even if she were to live here for a few years before going back home. 

“[Hero Name]! How does it feel to be on American soil?!” One of the interviewers asked, shoving their mics in her face. They don’t really care, they wanted the money. They all only wanted money. 

Y/n’s eyes trailed down to meet the woman’s eyes. A flash of nervousness appeared within her irises. Her green eyes meeting y/n’s milky white ones. Y/n tilted her head to the side, examining if she even wanted to speak with the woman. “It feels just like home.” Y/n finally spoke up, flashing a polite smile towards the smaller woman. She stood at a tall height of 5’8, her form taller than most women she knew, and yet smaller than most men. 

“[hero name]! Can you describe your powers of being a Nokken?!” Another reporter questioned. Y/n’s hand twitched but no one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even notice. “A magician never reveals her tricks.” Y/n said in a happy tone. That same eye catching smile was forever carved in her face. And yet again her eyes did not match. But of course no human cared. Humans were easily deceived, they were easily eaten- 

‘Dont think like that.’ Y/n thought to herself. And almost immediately the attention was finally directed off of her. “It’s homelander!” A random person states the obvious. Y/n attempted to slink away but a strong arm wrapped around her shoulder. “Thank you for the love! But I wanted to welcome in the new hero everyone’s been raving about!” The blue eyed man exclaimed. Y/n made no attempt to look up at him, for she knew that if she did she might as well be provoked to hit him. And she doubted that would do anything. “Smile.” Homelander whispered but the muscles in y/n’s face remained locked in. A neutral expression on her face as she made eye contact with reporters. She wouldn’t be a fraud like the man above her was. 

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I best be going homelander. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.” Y/n says loud enough for the reporters to hear as y/n smiles and begins to be escorted out of the airport.

The cool air hit her. Rain drops fell from the sky, turning her once [skin color] skin into a sickly grey. Her hair turning into an inky black color. She was not only a water based supe but an air one as well. The combination brought on many fans and onlookers that wished to be her. Or dispise her. 

“You left in a hurry.” That same familiar voice echoed throughout the empty streets. People were off the roads due to the storm. Y/n looked over her shoulder, this time her milky white eyes meeting his bright blue ones. “Was I supposed to linger?” Y/n questioned, turning her body towards him. She stood tall, her form didn’t look weak. 

“Not necessarily, just….unusual.” He replied. “Usually supes stick around to talk to the number one hero in the world.” 

“In America.” Y/n replied, slightly cutting him off. 

“Pardon?” He questioned. The smile on his face was fake. It didn’t reach his eyes, it looked like a mask. A horrible one at that. 

“You are the number one hero in America. Who’s to say the world when you haven’t even stepped out of it before?” Y/n questioned. Homelander gave y/n an annoyed look. “Anyway Mr retriever, I best get going.”

”Mr retriever?” Homelands questioned, he took off one of his gloves in order to get the water out of it. 

“You look like one.” Y/n spoke as she patted his arm whilst walking past him. Homelandee furrowed his eyebrows. Who does this girl think she is? He’s number one- 

The blonde haired male could feel a burning sensation on his forearm. He glanced down, not thinking it’d be anything only for his eyes go linger the name, y/n l/n was imbedded into his arm. His eyebrows furrowed, whose name was this? As realization began to sink in that this was his soulmates name…where ever she was he’d find her.

[imagineimagineimagine]

Of Six People, Three Must Pay A Price (Jingliu x reader)

"There used to be a statue of you here..." Jingliu noted silently as she gracefully walked through the bustling market street.

Even while wearing a heavy blindfold, Jingliu moved with complete confidence and grace; never once stumbling or colliding with another person.

Returning to The Xianzhou Luofu after all this time was bring back many forgotten memories for the old forgotten Sword Champion. While many were just mere flashes to days gone by, a small handful were memories so clear, (so precious), that for a moment she could almost forgot where she was; and what she had done.

No matter which type of memories they were however, all the of them included you.

'The Shield Of The Alliance'

Many centuries ago, everyone in the Alliance knew about the (man/woman) who held that title. But to her, you would always simply be (Your/Name); the childhood friend she had grown up, and the (man/woman) she had fallen in love with.

Once when you were both still children, Jingliu wondered why you decided against learning how to wield a weapon like she and the other trainees were doing. And even while wrestling with madness that Mara-sickness brought, Jingliu could still remember the answer that you gave her that day.

"Honestly? It's cause I think there more than enough people on this ship who are learning how to fight. But to really give people hope again, what everyone really needs right now is a protector. A...shield that will keep them safe."

Naturally there were people who mocked you for that. Afterall, how where you supposed to fight the abominations of Plague Author with just a shield?

But no matter what they said you always stood tall. While the others were busy fighting, you were the one who made sure that they would all get back home alive.

And no one dared to mock you again after you had managed to singlehandedly holdoff an attack from the Reignbow Arbiter.

Most people if they heard that story would have called you a liar. But thousands of ships had born witness to that awe-inspiring moment, and thousands more were saved because of your actions.

You and Jingliu fought side by side for hundreds of lifetimes. And the things the two of you did became the stuff of legend.

But now, her beloved was forgotten by the world. Hidden away from everyone as though they were some shameful secret from Luofu's past. (And all because of your connection to her.)

Your place among the honored dead was another thing that she had robbed you of.

When the Mara inside her body became too much for her to bear, Jingliu went on a rampage. She massacred the Cloud Knights under her command and everyone else in sight. There was a reason why she was known as the Sword Champion. Her skills with the blade were unparalleled, and anyone sent to stop her would've died a fool's death.

And so, the task was left to the only people who did stand a chance; (Your/Name) and Jing Yuan.

For hours the three of you fought, and you and Jing Yuan did everything you could to take Jingliu down without killing her. But when (Your/Name) hesitated for just a single moment, it was more than enough time for Jingliu to strike.

With expert precision, her blade tore through your chest and came out your back. And it was only the spray of your blood landing on her face that gave Jingliu a moment of clarity; as she awoke to the horror of what she had done.

As she stood frozen, you used the last of your strength to wrap your arms around Jingliu, and then she heard you tell to Jing Yuan to finish it.

Look over your shoulder, she saw the pained expression on her student's face before it was replaced with grim determination. And with the Thunder Lord having been summoned, the world became a sea of thunder.

Jingliu closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around you as the end approached. She knew she didn't deserve forgiveness for all the lives she had taken, nor did she deserve the comfort of your embrace.

But when you tightened your hold on her, and said one last "I love you", Jingliu closed her eyes and whispered it back.

That day should have been the end for the two of you, but purely by accident, you saved her one last time.

A life time of being a protector had engrained it into your body to protect others first. Entirely unconsciously, you shifted slightly so that your back was turned towards the on-coming attack. You bore the full brunt of the attack's power, while Jingliu, (though battered and broken), survived.

For centuries there on, Jingliu journeyed from planet to planet; attacking everything and everyone in sight. She became adrift in the galaxy, and now without you there to ground her, she was now entirely consumed by the Mara-sickness.

For centuries Jingliu spiralled out of control; spending whole decades as something no better than a rabid beast. The Mara-sickness was all consuming, and it made it impossible for her to think or remember who she truly was. It was only the flashes of your time together that gave her any peace.

But slowly she found a way. Somehow over the years she managed to regain just a tiny bit of control over her fractured mind. She knew it wouldn't last long however, so before she lost herself to the madness once again she returned to the Loufu.

Of six people, three still needed to pay a price.

And Jingliu was one of them...

Once her business was taken care, she would pay the price for everything she had done to you.

She only hoped that you could forgive her...

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 12

WC:1376, Masterpost

“Danny, come on,” Wally said, laughter clear in his voice. “There will be time to stare at the stars after.”

“But Flash, space,” Danny said with what he would readily admit as a whine as he motioned to the expansive view of space with earth floating in the bottom of the window. Danny didn’t know if the Zeta tube had been exactly worth the trip (he had nearly had a panic attack), but the view made a pretty compelling argument. The urge to go intangible and phase through the acrylic to be in space was so strong that Danny didn't even dare touch the window.

“But your meeting, Danny. Flash is going to be waiting for you, and you how how us Flashes get.”

Danny sighed but turned away from the window with one lingering look.

“Go and be great. After we can stare at space some and, maybe… if you’re up to it, meet some of my friends?”

“Like the infamous Nightwing?”

“Shush,” Wally said, placing a finger to his lips. “He’s like Beetlejuice, you might summon him just by saying his name.”

“Pretty sure you need to do that three times,” Danny pointed out, following Wally to the door.

“Oh yeah? You up on ghost lore?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m an expert,” Danny said dryly. If only Wally knew.

(Well, then Danny would be dead.)

“We can watch it next date night. Right now, you go be awesome, hero.”

“Flash, you really cannot call me a hero when we’re in the Justice League base.”

“Can and will, now go, hero,” Wally said, shooing Danny down the hall to where Barry was waiting.

“Gonna give me any hints about what’s going on?” Danny asked the older Flash once they had started walking.

“Just to be yourself,” Barry said. “You’re a good person and you know what you’re doing out there in the field. I wouldn’t’ve recommended you for this otherwise. And I meant what I said, your ability to take no crap is part of why I did. You don’t have to take any crap from anyone in there either, no matter who they are.”

Who they were turned out to be many of the founding members: Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, and of course Flash… Flash who really thought too highly of him. (What was with the Flashes doing that?)

There were also three other people not dressed in supersuits, who Danny figured were there for the same reason he was. Whatever that was.

“Flash,” Superman said with a nod to the hero and then a smile to Danny. “And you must be Mr. Fenton.”

“Just Danny is fine, thank you for the invitation,” Danny said, shaking Superman’s hand, continually reminding himself not to use any of his strength all the while.

“Of course, have a seat. We’re just waiting on… well, never mind,” Superman said cheerfully as the Martian Manhunter swept into the room. (Danny help back the excite squeak he wanted to make.) “J’onn.”

“Superman. Am I late?”

“Just on time. We can go ahead and get started.”

Everyone settled around the table, the normal people waiting for the heroes to take their preferred seats before settling together on the other side over the oval table.

“Thank you all for coming here today,” Wonder Woman said with a warm smile. “As you know, we’ve asked you here today based on your capabilities. Specifically, to help us build an emergency response team that can act in aid of crises the Justice League responds to.”

“We’ve already been doing this in some places at the city level,” Barry said, leaning forward. His hands were clasped on the table. Danny knew from experience that it was just so that he didn’t fidget from having to sit still. “Central City has been operating with our own set up for two years now and we’ve seen huge success in both lives saved, but also a bigger level of overall personal safety during attacks. People are getting out of the way faster, safer, and more often than before.”

“So we’re looking to do the same thing on a bigger level and we’d like your advice,” Superman said. “Right now, you’re here as consultants and will be paid for your time. Assuming we all work well together, you’ll have a chance to sign on once things are officially underway.”

Danny raised his hand.

“You can just talk, Danny, this isn’t school,” Flash said.

Danny felt a blush crawl up his cheeks and sat up straighter, stylus tapping nervously against his tablet. “I know this is putting the cart before the horse, but you can’t need us all the time. If we choose to sign up, will we still be able to work our current jobs? I don’t want to abandon Central. I mean, not that they can’t do without me, I have great coworkers, but it’s… you know, home.”

“A noble want,” Wonder Woman said. “The reality of it would depend on the level of administration work you are in charge of, but no. You should be able to continue working in Central and be on call for other emergencies, or that is our assumption. You all are the experts, though, which is why you are here. Perhaps introductions are in order?”

“Brent Green,” the one furthest from Danny cut in without hesitation. He was the most formally dressed of all of them, suit jacket and all, and had that air of superiority that made Danny want to bristle. “Director of Star City’s emergency response team.”

“Debra Day,” the woman next to Danny said next. There was a southern twang to her words. “Thirty years of search and rescue experience, ex Coast Guard, currently focused on instruction.”

“Leo Klein, they/them,” the last said. “Emergency management and prevention training.”

“Danny Fenton.” He felt out of place compared to all the other skill sets. “Team lead and field medic in Central City.”

“And I’m sure you know us,” Superman said with a chuckle. “Now, what are your thoughts.”

“First we have to establish a system of hierarchy and devision of labor,” Brent said, once again jumping in before anyone else. “It is important to know who has right away in the field.”

Danny resisted the urge to raise his hand again and took the chance of Brent pausing to speak. “Those are all good thoughts, but you’re getting ahead of things. Cities and countries will already have established teams, even if it’s just police and fire fighters. Are you all wanting us to come in and work with them? Ahead of them? Under their leadership? When we started in Central there were a lot of accidental hurts because the two sides didn’t sit down and talk enough at first, and this is on an even bigger scale.”

“He’s right,” Debra said. “The National Guard could be a good model both for the US, but also for any other nations you might want to explore into to see how things are handled there.”

“And you’ll need to get started on PR right away no matter the choice,” Leo said, leaning forward ad engaging now. “Like Danny said, it’s easy to step on toes and we don’t want to do any of that.”

Brent was frowning, slightly, then sighed and nodded. His shoulders relaxed a little. “No, good points. PR for the citizens too, to know to look out for us. We could get feed back on what worked in the cities with teams set up.”

“And places that have seen attacks outside of there. It’s easy to focus on big cities, but smaller towns and rural areas still can see attacks and have different needs,” Danny added to considering nods.

Now that they were all working together, Danny felt himself relaxing too. There were a lot of nerves for most people to get over working with heroes, Danny guess. Even he wasn’t immune to caliber of people that they were in the room with and he ate dinner with the one at least once a month.

Also Batman seemed to be watching him.

Well, whatever, talk was flowing easily now. They’d get their feet under them. They’d have to if they wanted this to work.

-----

AN: And some food for all of you here too! Danny learns why he's at the Watchtower! And manages to not be too distracted by space- a true accomplishment.

Sorry if there are more issues than normal, my letter swapping/word salad has been a bit bad lately. And I've really messed up my one finger ;-;

But anyways! Slower part but next chapter.... nightwing. Dundundun Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the master post!

[vidalswife]

I Love You Like An Alcoholic

word count- 1.7k

pairing: wanda maximoff / natasha romanoff(romanov).

Summary: Wanda's brother just died, she didn't see herself fighting alongside the avengers any time soon, so it came to be a big adjustment for her. Natasha Romanoff is intrigued by her. Sparks fly as the two prepare for the mission to take down Ultron.

author's note: this first chapter will not contain mature content, there will be a kiss though. while this chapter is not mature, following chapters will be. the following chapters will depict violence, bdsm, hardkinks, smut, etc. this is a completely original work, and is not supposed to last more than five chapters. please enjoy the kick off to 'i love you like an alcoholic'! <3

”natasha romanoff, you are?” she didn’t know it now, a question spoken in such bliss, that this would be the start of something crumbling, something that would rip her soul apart and paint stories with the scattered fragments.

”wanda.” the other woman replied harshly. her coldness was everything but prudent. she wanted nothing but to leave this place along with all of these people, and mourn her brother. she just wanted her brother back .

”well wanda, let me show you around.” nat smirked, giving a curious look to the shorter woman. wanda was unamused. natasha found it interesting, alluring even. this little ginger haired woman wasn’t seemingly the easy-to-get-to-know type.

shaking her head, she thanked the boys, clint and bucky, sending them off with a tilt of her head towards the lounge. they had brought wanda to her, saying she wasn’t really talking or adjusting well to the whole avengers thing after losing her brother. natasha understood, and she wanted to help, being in somewhat of the same position not so long ago, having to leave everything behind from her past, as much as she didn’t want it back.

wanda had just been ripped from her brother, she wasn’t particularly happy about having to help these strangers defeat ultron, mostly because she had to face the creature who ultimately took the last thing she loved on this earth. but what choice did she have now. in the back of her mind, there was always pietro. he was dead, she couldn’t do anything about it, except could the thing who was responsible accountable.

”come with me. i assume you’ll be staying here with the rest of us until the mission is done?” the assassin inquired, starting the walk to the living quarters. wanda rolled her eyes and scoffed, of course, she was going to have to live here too with people she didn’t know.

natasha looked over at the woman who was seemingly ignoring her question. one thing about natasha romanoff, she wouldn’t be ignored.

nat stopped walking, resulting in wanda doing the same. the assassin looked the witch in her eyes, searching for something, anything really. she saw anger. the woman stepped closer, holding this eye contact they bared. she reached for wanda’s hand, and wanda flinched, tilting her head in hesitation. after a few seconds, she relaxed, something in her eyes just tempted her to calm down.

natasha grabbed hold of wanda’s hand and just held it in her own. she understood how emotional it could be to try and understand all of this change at once. there wasn’t a manual for leaving behind what you once knew for saving the world. “look, i know it isn’t going to be easy. . but just try to fit in here. the people are good, and we’re all here for the same reasons. . because we have to fight. just, try. . okay?” she bit her lip at the end of that, eyes breaking the contact in order to avert from showing any emotion.

wanda couldn’t help but notice the way she spoke almost as if she had felt the same, and it comforted her a little. she nodded her head, noticing how the woman bit her lip, and she squeezed her hand. for some odd reason the touch kept her feeling sane. she pointed with her free hand to the hall leading to the stairs down into the living quarters, “over there, right?”

natasha was a bit confused on why wanda didn’t let go, but she embraced it, hoping she had made a difference with the woman in her heart-to-heart moment. the redhead nodded, and wanda took lead, hands still holding one another, they made their way into the hall and down the stairs.

it was a silent walk, but so much was being said. natasha noticed when wanda tensed, walking past some of the rooms with names which were intimidating if nothing else, and also when she relaxed as they came close to natasha’s room. nat thought it was sweet, she was happy to have gained some of wanda’s trust.

there was an empty room right before nat’s, on opposite sides of the hall. she pointed to the door, and wanda looked at the room in apprehension. it was plain, no decor, but it wasn’t unfixable.

when the ginger didn’t enter, natasha laughed. wanda’s brow furrowed, and mouthed a simple ‘what’.

”well, this is the part where you’d usually go in your room, wanda.” she said, a smile on her face at the confused and rather innocent look on the witch’s face.

”right, well-” wanda started, stopping mid thought. “will you be back?” she asked, turning to face nat. natasha’s smile turned into a smirk, and she pursed her lips. “I might be able to fit it into my schedule” she teased.

________

she never came by. this left wanda worried, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure why. the two had just met, and natasha owed her nothing. sighing, the pale ginger rose, patting straight the wrinkles on the comforter where she was just sitting. the woman made for the door, it sliding open as she approached. across the hall she spotted natasha’s door. it was open, and from what she could hear, someone was in it.

wanda realized it could be anyone, that she shouldn’t intrude on the other woman’s space, but she felt drawn. and so her feet started, walking across the hall, one door down, and she stopped when she met the empty door frame.

natasha was sifting through the drawers within a little black dresser which was across from her bed. she had scoffed, and pulled out bandages, backing to sit on the foot of the bed. wanda’s brow furrowed, and she soon understood when she saw nat’s hand retreat from in front of her body. her knuckles were red and swollen, bloody in the middle.

wanda couldn’t help it, she instantly stepped in, grabbing the bandages from natasha, who gave a confused and aggravated glance before realizing it was wanda.

her expression softened, and wanda sat beside her, undoing the bandages in order to wrap the woman’s hand. natasha opened her mouth to make an excuse, say that wanda didn’t have to do that, but wanda simply glanced a look that screamed “shut up and let me help you”. so the redhead did, wincing as wanda wrapped the swollen knuckles on her hand. she pulled her hand back as the pressure got tighter with each wrap of the bandages.

”stop moving.” wanda wordered, and the assassin bit her lip, confused and curiously watching the ginger witch’s face as she wrapped her hand.

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?

wanda glared at her again, it seemed that the black widow had no idea she was able to interact with the minds of others.

𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢.

nat relished in the touch, finding comfort within wanda’s warmth. wanda felt a gentle flush of heat on her cheeks, blush no doubt. she reminded herself not to blush, that natasha was watching. it was too late, though. she already had, and by the time wanda had finished inspecting the wrapped hand and looked up at the other woman, there was a cheeky smile on the redhead’s face.

”what?” wanda asked, tilting her head as the words left her. the assassin lifted her good hand, raised it to the other’s face, and pushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

”you’re blushing.” she chuckled into a gentle smile. wanda felt embarrassed, causing even more redness to find her cheeks. she shook her head, sighing beneath her breath.

”i’m not, it’s just frustration.” wanda insisted, gaining a hardened expression to help make her case. nat simply looked her up and down, taking the woman in fully. she wore leggings and a red shirt, fitting for her hair. compared to the assassin’s white and battered muscle shirt and pants for training, she looked almost formal.

”frustrated at. .” she started, before dragging her hand down from behind wanda’s ear down her jaw, biting her own lip as she stopped as her thumb brushed over the ginger’s bottom lip. “what?” finished natasha, a smirk crossing her lips.

wanda felt this shiver down her spine. “i–” she started, as she slowly shook her head in the denial that this was really happening. natasha was beautiful.. but she had never expected..

”thank you.” the older woman announced, inching closer. in one foul sweep, she had managed to kiss wanda. the ginger however was tense, unsure of it, but the warmth not just in her heart, but within her soul, well it overcame the fear.

natasha felt her ease, causing a smile to interrupt their kiss. wanda couldn’t honestly say she wasn’t a bit upset. she had wanted to continue to kiss tasha, it felt so natural. however when the contact was broken, wanda was suddenly all aware of the situation, and that the door was open for anyone to see the scene.

she shook her head, and stood, turning to look at nat, disheveled with confusion. “i should go–” she started, turning to leave. when nat heard this she worried if she had scared her. but when wanda reached the door, she stopped, back still facing the redhead.

”should you?” questioned the assassin, clearly realizing that wanda was hesitant to leave.

but she couldn’t stay, she needed to sort her feelings out.

”take care of your hand, tasha.” the witch sounded, before leaving the room, and giving a sense of longing to both women who shared the kiss.

[separatist-apologist]

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3

Five years earlier:

She wasn’t used to Georgia’s humidity. 

Nesta never wanted to get used to it. Standing just outside the little white house that now belonged to her, Nesta wiped sweat from the back of her neck. The town was small—no more than a couple thousand people, if that. No big buildings, no major downtown, and worst of all, no Chinese food. Not unless she wanted to creep closer to Atlanta and given that Nesta’s car was a piece of rusting junk built a full decade before she was born, she doubted she’d make it.

So much for being a hot shot lawyer. 

Nesta dumped her bag just inside the white picket fence, ignoring the peeling paint and splintering wood. It was the kind of place Elain would have thrived in. With a sigh, Nesta turned her back entirely on the overgrown yard and began walking along the only road in the town to the center—aptly named Main Street. 

There was practically no one out. A few older woman walked with looped arms down the sidewalks while a harried mother pushing a stroller made her way toward the only grocery store. Nesta made her way toward the marble carved library, taking the steps one at a time despite the unrelenting sun overhead.

The air inside was ice cold and empty save of two women who were quietly talking to each other. One of them—the red head—clearly worked there given she was behind the desk. The other sat perched on the counter, a book in her lap. They had been clearly talking with some animation though now that Nesta had intruded, the pair stared with wary suspicion.

Nesta hadn’t come to make friends. Lifting her chin with all the haughtiness her mother had instilled in her, Nesta marched toward the shelves lined with fantasy and romance and began reading the jackets. 

She needed a distraction. All she could think about lately was what would happen if Rhysand ever found them. Surely he was irate…he’d be out for blood. They’d flat out lied, pointing the finger straight at the notorious mafioso and the feds, in their eagerness to put him away, had overlooked all the evidence suggesting otherwise.

But Rhysand would know.

And Nesta wanted to forget him. Mobsters lived short lives, besides—in a year, he might be dead and the whole thing over. She could keep herself busy for that long. So long as the library kept books on the shelves, Nesta could find something to do.

She brought them to the front desk where the red head and the dark haired woman waited. “Library card?” The woman’s name tag read Gwyn. 

“No,” Nesta said, fishing out her new drivers license. Agnes Smith. Sure. That sounded real. “Here.”

Gwyn eyed it for a moment. “You don’t look like an Agnes.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

Gwyn began typing on her computer, glancing at Nesta’s ID. “Emerie,” the dark skinned, dark haired woman said with a friendlier smile. “I think you look like an Agnes.” Gwyn rolled her eyes. 

“You should come by the general store,” Emerie added, glancing at the ID for Nesta’s address. “You moved into the old Brandon house.”

“Grizzly murder happened there,” Gwyn said seriously.

“Did not. He died of all old age,” Emerie said quickly. “It’s been run down for a while. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Do you like women?” Gwyn asked suddenly and bluntly. 

Taken aback, Nesta said, “Um…not really—romantically, anyway.”

Emerie sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

Nesta almost blurted out that she’d still take friends before she thought better of it. No need to be defensive or obsessive. “Where is everyone today?”

“It’s ten am,” Gwyn said.

“They’re at church,” Emerie replied when it was clear Nesta didn’t understand. 

“But not you?” Nesta questioned.

Gwyn handed her ID back, along with a white library card bearing her pretend name. “We aren’t welcome.”

“Why?”

Emerie grimaced while Gwyn scanned Nesta’s book. “They think I’m a homewrecker…and Emerie likes women. Openly.” 

“Fuck them,” Nesta said without thinking. It was the first smile she’d seen from Gwyn—a small, half formed thing, but a smile all the same. “We should start our own religion.”

“That sounds like blasphemy,” Emerie teased.

“It sounds like witchcraft,” Gwyn added, pushing Nesta’s stack of books toward her. “I’m in.”

Which was how Nesta found herself hosting brunch that Sunday with two strangers in a house that didn’t belong to her.

PRESENT:

“Who is that?” Emerie asked, sitting on Nesta’s front porch holding a sweating glass of iced tea. 

“He’s not local at all,” Gwyn agreed, lowering her sunglasses to take a look at the tall, muscular man making his way toward Nesta’s gate. Wearing mirrored shades and a suit that was bursting at the seams, he looked like he was playing dress up as a cop.

His dark, wavy hair half pulled in a bun didn’t seem regulation, for one. But something about him seemed off somehow. 

“He one of yours?” Gwyn questioned. Nesta had long since betrayed the secrecy she’d been sworn to, telling her friends everything but the most critical piece of truth in order to protect Feyre. 

Nesta scratched her ear. No, this man was definitely not one of hers. 

“Want us to stay?” Gwyn asked, likely thinking about the shotgun mounted in the back of her pick-up truck.

“I can handle him,” Nesta assured them. Gwyn and Emerie stood, leaving behind their cups to slip from the yard. Gwyn nodded at the man once, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. That left Nesta standing at the top of her porch steps wearing a butter yellow sundress, arms crossed over her chest.

“Ma’am,” he the man began as he approached, his expression unreadable. She waited, watching as he took off his sunglasses only for recognition to slam into her. Oh. She knew this man from pictures.  “My name is Cassian.”

Rhysands right hand man. Nesta didn’t move, unwilling to betray she knew who he was. “What can I do for you, Cassian?”

Not even a fake name? Was he that confident she’d never done one google search? He had a mugshot, had appeared in the papers just enough times for Nesta to recognize him. They called him The Lord of Bloodshed thanks to his rumored job of handling the things Rhysand didn’t want staining his hands or his conscience. 

And that man was standing at the bottom of her steps, armed just beneath his suit jacket. 

“I’m here on behalf of your case,” he said like a pretty liar. 

“Oh? Has something happened?”

“An indictment is coming. I’m to escort you back home once Rhysand has been charged.”

Liar.

Still, there was no reason to call him out on it. If Rhysand had found her, he must be still looking for her sisters. She didn’t believe for a minute he’d found Feyre—his bruiser would have pointed his gun at her by way of greeting had he. No, they were monitoring her.

And Nesta could watch them right back. 

So she smiled, hoping she seemed innocent and sweet. “What a relief,” she lied, stepping to the side so he could come up. “I was starting to think I’d be trapped here forever.”

“Can I come inside?” Cassian asked, looking around her immaculate yard with interest. “It’s hot out here.”

“Better get used to that,” Nesta said, pulling open the screen door so Cassian could get the lay of the land. “Are you staying here?”

“If you don’t mind. The hotel is…”

Roach filled, she knew. People still went, content to carry out their clandestine affairs in filth so long as no one ever found out. 

“I have a spare room,” Nesta told him. Cassian turned back for his own car—a brand new jeep  that was laughably out of place in her little neighborhood. He returned with two bags slung over his broad shoulders, eyes hidden behind his glasses. The sun hit the golden brown of his skin, making it seem as if he glowed and tragically, Nesta thought he was a good looking man.

He’d kill her if she wasn’t careful…but attractive, all the same. 

Nesta showed him to the smaller room she kept made up just in case Gwyn or Emerie wanted to stay the night, thinking the full sized bed didn’t seem big enough for this man. He had to duck beneath the doorway, putting him well over six foot three—maybe six six? He made Nesta, who stood tall at five nine, feel dainty by comparison.

“Should I call you Cassian, or…?”

“Cassian is fine,” he replied, sunglasses resting atop his head. “This is perfect, by the way. I promise you’ll barely know I exist.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nesta said in a flirty voice as she eyed him. “I think it would be hard not to notice you.” He grinned, unaware that a real agent would have shut her down in seconds. “Well, Miss Agnes, I’ll do my best to keep out of your hair.”

Nesta offered him another smile, mind racing. If she survived tonight she assumed she’d survive as long as he wanted her to—and as long as she didn’t admit she knew what he was. That meant keeping it from Gwyn and Emerie, who wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from treating him like a criminal.

He thought she was prey, but Nesta Archeron was a survivor. A predator, just like this man. And she had lived in Georgia for five years—she had guns hidden all over the house. He didn’t need to know any of that, though. Nesta waited while he unpacked some of his things and peeked around her little house, mostly quiet as he cased her. Sitting on her sofa beneath a ceiling fan moving at top speed, Nesta heard him push open the back door and walk through the yard where she assumed he was testing the gate.

He messed with windows when he returned, pushing back curtains to peer out into the street. “You’re wide open out here,” he finally said with a frown on his pretty face. And he was pretty—sculpted and rough in a way that was hard to ignore. Nesta found herself noticing the green in his hazel eyes and the way stubble clung to his strong jaw. A slit cut through his eyebrow while faint scars littered his jaw and hands, betraying a man who knew his way around a fight. 

He was fooling no one but himself. 

“This is where you put me,” she reminded him, wondering if he understood what she was really saying. 

“Maybe we’ll keep the curtains closed,” Cassian said, as if Nesta didn’t do that anyway. The sun was unforgiving and the only way to survive swampy summers was to try and keep things shady and cool. 

“Do you want to take off your jacket?”

“I want to take everything off,” he admitted, shrugging out of what she had to assume was stolen. “Even my own skin.”

“That’s how I felt when I first got here,” she told him. He’d look back on all this and remember—he’d realize she knew the moment he stepped onto her lawn. “You get used to it.”

She was going to kill him, she realized. The knowledge slammed into Nesta’s chest violently, paralyzing her for a moment. She’d never killed anyone…but at some point she’d have to kill this man before he killed her. Cassian, for his part, was unaware of the slant of her thoughts. He must have already known when he came down that he planned to kill her just as soon as he was given the order. She doubted he intended to take her home…and if he did, it would be under duress. 

That was future Nesta’s problem, though. For now, all she had to do was stay one step ahead of him. And that meant pretending like she believed every word coming out of his mouth and ignored all the obvious signs that he was a liar. 

“Hungry?” she asked. 

“Starving,” Cassian agreed. He vanished into the room she’d given him, leaving Nesta enough time to try and steady her nervous hands. By the time Cassian returned, Nesta was slicing up meat for the grill outside. There was absolutely no way she was turning on her oven.

“Can I help you with that?”

Instinct demanded she say no. She didn’t want Cassian anywhere near lighter fluid, for one. He looked so earnest and she was pretending, so Nesta nodded. “I haven’t seasoned it yet.”

“Leave it to me,” Cassian said with an easy smile. And she did, watching him from the corner of her eye while he seasoned her meat and vegetables. He vanished out the back door and when he returned, sweat glistened over his face. Nesta found herself standing there for a moment, staring as he pulled the rest of his hair off his face, biceps straining against the cuff of his t-shirts. 

Cassian was heavily tattooed with black ink that crawled over his arms and up his neck, broken only by the sweaty shirt he wore. 

“Why do people live like this?” Cassian asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. “It’s horrible.”

“I keep saying it,” she replied honestly. “I would have preferred a colder climate.”

“Next time,” Cassian grumbled. “What are you doing now?”

“Cutting up fruit. Want some?”

Cassian picked a blueberry out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “How do you spend your time, anyway?”

“I’m the town lawyer,” Nesta informed him. “I work in a little office down on Main Street.”

“And when you’re not working?”

She shrugged. “I have friends…but I mostly read.”

He glanced toward her shelves of books in the living room, visible from the hall connecting the two. “Anything interesting?”

“Take a look,” was all Nesta could think to respond. Cassian didn’t take her up on her offer, turning instead to go check on the grilling meat. Had she not known who he was, Nesta might have thought the awkward environment was just because a stranger had invaded her space.

It felt almost normal. 

Almost.

Because Nesta couldn’t forget a killer was sitting across from her, his hands soaked in blood. She kept coming back to it as they ate in relative silence. Why had Rhysand sent him here? What did he want with her? Nesta needed to figure it out.

And figure it out fast.

CASSIAN:

Nesta Archeron was beautiful.

Cassian hadn’t expected it. He’d seen a picture of Feyre only once and had kind of imposed her face on all three Archerons. Walking up to her house had been a surreal experience. For one, all Cassian could see was her tits pressed against the neckline of that sundress she wore. Holy fucking Christ, but Nesta’s body was something out of his most depraved fantasies.

But her eyes were something else. Icy blue and calculated, it was no surprise Nesta had survived five years out mostly on her own. Did she even know her sisters were guarded by federal agents while she was left to fend for herself? 

It irked Cassian. Sure, he was grateful he’d been able to gain access to her life so easily, but surely someone was keeping their eyes on this woman? So the likes of him couldn’t just stroll into her home and do whatever he liked with her? 

But after two days living with Nesta, Cassian learned that no one seemed to care if she lived or died. Which was just as well—because he was starting to care. Just a little, he told himself that second night as he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

His only job was to get her back to Rhysand in one piece once he’d tracked down Feyre and married her. Nesta wouldn’t even know until it was all too late and the feds would lose their pathetic case.

And then Cassian could go back to his regular life in a place that wasn’t drenched in humidity. How did anyone sleep? Even with Nesta’s air conditioner going at full blast, Cassian found himself shucking off his shirt and kicking the sheets to the floor in a desperate attempt at sleep. 

Thinking the living room might be cooler, Cassian dragged his blanket with him to the couch where he found Nesta, half hidden in the dark with a piece of toast in her hand.

Her little night dress was enough to empty out his mind. Why was she so hot? Cassian could see every curve of her perfect body beneath the silken blue fabric and her hair was loose around her shoulders rather than braided in a crown atop her head.

He wanted to lick the salt off her skin.

He wanted to lick a lot of things, actually.

Cassian was fairly certain federal agents weren’t supposed to have sex with their charges—even if Rhysand was certain Vanserra had something going on with the middle Archeron. Cassian wasn’t anything close to a cop and fucking was his favorite thing to do. 

“I ah..” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper aware that all he wore was a pair of loose shorts. Nesta was looking only at his face with a grim determination—as if she found it very difficult to do so.

You can look at any part of me you like.

Having sex with her would certainly pass the time. 

“It’s hot,” Nesta said, flipping on a lamp on the side table. “I keep meaning to get someone out here to look at my AC, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Cassian promised. “Before the sun comes up.”

“You’re handy?”

He was, actually. “I grew up with a single mom,” he said, flashing her a smile before making his way to the sofa. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so I learned how to do repairs.” Nesta tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Unwilling to give her a reason to banish him, Cassian made a show of fluffing the couch cushions before stretching himself out. 

“My shower doesn’t have hot water,” she finally told him.

Cassian grinned in the dark. “I can take a look at that, too.”

“I would appreciate it,” Nesta replied. 

“Why don’t you make me a list? I’ve got nothing else to do all day and I feel like a freeloader sitting on your couch.”

That was true. Cassian was used to staying busy and suddenly he had nothing but downtime. It was tempting to go to the library and find his own books to read and treat the entire thing like a vacation. This would help build trust between them, he rationalized.

And Cassian liked having something to do. He liked being useful to people. 

“I could do that,” Nesta said, still standing in his line of sight. Even in the dark, Cassian could see her nipples pointed through the fabric. He wanted to touch them.

“I’m here to help,” Cassian reminded her.

“Of course,” she said, her tone unreadable to him. 

He nearly asked if she wanted to join him. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Nesta beat him to speaking, adding, “Well. Sleep well, Cassian.”

“You too,” he said, disappointment ribboning through him. It was absurd to think a woman like Nesta Archeron was going to crawl in his dirtbag lap.

Still, Cassian could dream. And he did, waking with a throbbing erection he had to discreetly handle in the freezing cold shower. Cassian hadn’t noticed it wasn’t hot given the air was miserable and he didn’t want to take a boiling shower for once. He could hear Nesta in her room listening to music, up with dawn just like he was. 

He found tools out in her garden shed, unused and rusty. They’d likely belonged to the previous tenant, whoever they’d been. Still, they worked well enough for Cassian’s purposes. What she needed was an entirely new unit. Cassian guessed the old one was over a decade long and judging from the rattling, it was on its final legs.

He had money. A lot of money. Would she believe him if he told her the agency had decided to replace it? Nesta didn’t strike him as particularly stupid—if they’d never helped her before, she might not believe they’d help her now. He couldn’t live the way they had been, though, which was how Cassian found himself on the phone with the local repairman giving out his credit card details over the phone.

Nesta was gone by the time Cassian came back into the house, drenched in sweat and slightly sunburned on the tops of his arms. It was a relief to get into the basement and work on the water heater, and by the time Cassian finished, the service guys were there to replace Nesta’s air conditioner. It required them to turn the air off which was actual hell, though once it was back up, Cassian felt instant relief. 

Nesta returned with a scowl on her face, dressed in a pencil skirt that made Cassian’s mouth dry out. How had Archeron managed to create her? Cassian had met him—he was nothing special. An unremarkable man in every way imaginable, including his appearance.

Nesta could have modeled. Could have had her face on billboards, her body in magazines. Had he met her back home, he knew he’d have dogged her steps hoping for just a look in his direction. 

“Any news?” Nesta asked, sliding her keys and purse onto a side table. Cassian watched her kick off her heels and turn her face upwards toward the vents blowing cold air.

“Nope,” he said. What would Rhys do if he kept her here for a year? Kick his ass, likely. “Rough day?”

Holding up a cloth shopping bag, Nesta nodded her head while Cassian rose to take it from her. Inside he found an assortment of peppers, onions, and a rather nice steak he assumed she wanted to grill. Cassian had never grilled before he met her and found that he rather liked it. In fact, he liked the whole little game he was playing. Pretending to be the sort of man who had a house and a wife and a barbeque suited him.

In another life, Cassian would have thrived.

“I’m working on another divorce and her soon to be ex stopped by to tell me what he thought about me.”

“I hope it was to tell you you’re beautiful,” Cassian replied without thinking as he peeled stickers from the vegetables.

“No it wasn’t,” Nesta replied, her tone uncertain. “It was to tell me what a bitch I am.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Did you tell him to get fucked?”

Nesta chuckled. “Not this time…but I wanted to. He thinks if he digs his heels in, he can avoid this divorce but it’s happening either way.”

“This is why I’m not married,” Cassian said, reaching for a knife.

“Oh?” Nesta asked, an amused smile on her perfect face. “Is that the only reason?”

Cassian couldn’t help his grin. “I’m off-putting to women, of course.”

“There it is,” she said with a pretty laugh. “Want any help?”

“Get out of my kitchen, Nes,” Cassian replied, swatting her away. “Water’s fixed, by the way.”

The whole thing was warm and domestic. Nesta thanked him before sauntering off, hips swaying with each step. The only thing to temper Cassian’s hot blood was the hotter grill outside and a reminder that Nesta was off limits to him.

He was merely a guard meant to get her back home before the feds scooped her and her sisters back up again. Collateral, he supposed, for the game Rhys was playing with Feyre. Cassian was grateful for that, at least—if Rhys called him and told him to kill her, he wasn’t certain he could do it. 

Cassian returned to find Nesta in a pair of tiny little shorts and a pink tank top. He wished she’d pull her hair down, still left in its braided crown, though in truth he could have stood at the backdoor and stared at her for an embarrassing length of time.

“What did I say about the kitchen?” he teased, setting his tray of meat and vegetables on the counter beside her.

“I wanted to make a little salad,” Nesta told him, showing him the bowl. “Do you even eat vegetables?”

“On occasion,” Cassian said with an easy grin. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, though. I’m not picky.”

“Tell me about yourself, Cassian,” Nesta ordered once they were seated at her little wooden table. 

“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” he replied. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’ll bet you’re a lot more interesting than I am.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Nesta murmured.

“C’mon,” Cassian cajoled. Nesta sighed, eyes narrowed with that suspicious look he was growing so fond of. Was there such a thing as love at first sight, he wondered? Cassian was starting to suspect he was under its spell. Under hers, anyway. Nesta relented, telling him little stories he figured were probably half true. 

Cassian knew the right questions to ask, at any rate. Careful not to mention her family, Cassian asked her about everything else. Nesta spoke about going to law school and living in Georgia, mentioning two friends she’d made—Gwyn the librarian and Emerie the grocer. He’d seen them on his porch when he first arrived. 

He needed to do a little digging on them, but he figured they were likely fine. 

“What about you?” Nesta asked, their meal long concluded. Cassian began gathering up dishes.

“What about me?”

“Are you from Georgia?” she questioned.

Cassian chuckled. “No, I’m not from Georgia. Just got unlucky in my assignment, I guess.”

“Why did you want to do this work?”

Cassian considered that. “I’m good at it,” he replied, drumming his fingers along the edge of the sink. “I kind of fell into it, actually. I guess I succumb easily to peer pressure because when one of my friends suggested I apply, I did it without hesitation.”

That wasn’t entirely true. There had been no application process—he and Rhys had become friends as boys and Rhys’s mother had been like a second mother to Cassian. He’d always wanted to repay them for their kindness and when Rhys asked him to join him as his right hand man, the answer had been obvious.

He couldn’t tell Nesta that, though. She didn’t poke, either, seemingly satisfied with his answer. While Cassian cleaned up, Nesta made her way to the living room, picked up a book, and curled up on the couch. Cassian watched her pull a blanket from the back of the sofa and drape it over her tanned knees.

“Cold, huh?” he joked. 

“You fixed—”

A gunshot silenced both of them. Nesta jumped clean out of her skin, book falling from her trembling hands. Cassian frowned, his own heart racing with excitement. Finally, something interesting was happening.

His own gun was in his hand before Nesta ever stood. “Don’t move,” he whispered, motioning for her to get away from the window.

“Send the bitch outside!” a man’s voice yelled, filling Cassian with cold rage. He was at the door in a moment, flinging it open so it was his large body filling the space. On the lawn, a man stumbled forward, gun pointed at the sky. He pulled the trigger again, clearly trying to intimidate Cassian.

Cassian had been tied up before, a gun pressed against his lips while his cock was threatened with a knife. Some fucking rural drunk with a gun didn’t scare him. In truth, very little scared Cassian. He’d cheated death more times than he could count and he knew, as he stepped onto the lawn in the fading daylight, that he wasn’t going to die today.

This man, on the other hand…well. Cassian supposed it would depend on what he did next.

“Lower your weapon!” Cassian barked, his voice rough and menacing. The man jerked to look at him, eyes wide and watery. “Put your gun down or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Send out your bitch—”

Cassian didn’t shoot him, but he did hit him in the face. Hard. Maybe too hard given the way the man crumpled at his feet as blood poured from his nose. Only the alcohol kept him from passing out which was lucky for Cassian.

Crouching in the grass, Cassian grabbed the man by his thinning hair and forced his head into an unnatural angle. “What did you say?”

“I called her a bitch,” the man spluttered through the blood. 

Cassian cocked his gun with his free hand and pressed it to the man's cheek. “Try again,” he whispered, fully intending on killing this man on the front lawn. Cassian’s finger pressed against the trigger just as Nesta barked, “Cassian!”

He twisted to look at her, arms crossed over her chest. She was fury incarnate right then, marching toward the pair of them without a care in the world. 

“Get out of her, Brent,” Nesta ordered, pointing her finger toward the gate. “This is embarrassing, even for you.”

“You ruined my life—”

“You ruined your own life by cheating on your wife!” Nesta spat without remorse. “And you’re ruining it by assaulting a federal officer.”

Cassian nearly choked. Did he look like a cop right then? 

“He assaulted me,” Brent protested, shoving out of Cassian’s grip.

“If I see you near her again, you’ll find yourself six feet under before you can utter one fucking word. Do we understand each other?” Cassian asked, rising to his full height. Brent glanced from the gun in Cassian’s hand to Cassian himself before offering a sullen nod. 

“Whatever,” he muttered, clearly trying to save face. Cassian watched him stumble off, forcing himself not to pull the trigger anyway at the man’s retreating back. Nesta came to stand beside Cassian, resting her soft, small hand on his forearm.

“That’s the guy getting the divorce,” she told him, as if Cassian cared who he was. Letting someone who threatened him walk away unscathed felt wrong and Cassian longed to rectify it. Where did he live, he wondered? 

“I can see why,” Cassian muttered, turning back for the house. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“He’s not coming back—”

“He pointed a gun at you,” Cassian growled, the memory filling him with rage. 

Nesta only shrugged, proving that she was still part of the life whether she wanted to be or not. Did she know what a liar her younger sister was, he wondered? Did Nesta know it had been Feyre who killed her father? Looking at her in the warm light of the house, Cassian decided that a woman like Nesta wouldn’t allow herself to live this way if she hadn’t known. If she wasn’t protecting someone. 

Who was protecting her? 

“I’m fine,” Nesta reminded him. But Cassian knew all too well how differently things could have gone if he hadn’t been there. Cassian knew how quickly a bullet could end things. 

“I’ll feel better out here,” he said, setting his gun on the glass coffee table. “You won’t change my mind, Nes.”

She hesitated, eyes moving from him to the window. “Fine.”

Cassian had no intention of sleeping, though. He waited until he knew Nesta was asleep, slipping into her bedroom just to check. She was so lovely even in sleep and Cassian had to resist the urge to touch her face. Not tonight. Another night, perhaps—but not this night. 

The thing about small towns he found himself appreciating was how easy it was to find people. Slipping into a local bar, Cassian mentioned what had happened to the bartender, who helpfully told him where Brent lived. 

He didn’t bother to slip in quietly. If he wanted to be unnoticed, he would have called up Azriel. Cassian liked when his marks were scared, for whatever that said about him. Flexing his fingers, Cassian picked through the dirty, mostly empty house. He supposed Nesta was helping to clean him out.

Good for her.

Brent was waiting in a fraying brown chair, a bottle of Jack Daniels held loosely in one hand. “Knew you weren’t no cop,” he muttered. “You got the look of a felon.”

“Have you been talking to my third grade teacher?” Cassian asked, his tone light. “She used to say the same thing.”

“You ain’t foolin’ no one but that girl of yours,” Brent told him, eyeing the gun in Cassian’s hand. 

“She’s the only one I need to fool,” Cassain agreed, coming closer. “I swore an oath to protect her.”

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“But you scared her,” Cassian said in that same friendly tone. “You came to her house and threatened her and I can’t stand for that.”

“Well, I don’t really care if I scared her. Sometimes women ought to be a little afraid.”

Cassian clenched his fingers. “Is that so?”

“Make your threats and get the fuck out,” Brent ordered, taking another swig of whiskey. Cassian saw his gun on a chipped side table. 

“You don’t have much going for you, do you Brent? Wife left you, took all your money…is about to take your house. You’ve got no job, no friends…anyone would lose it.”

“Yeah,” Brent mumbled, eyes glassy. “You get it.”

“If I were you, I’d probably kill myself too,” Cassian added, holding Brent’s gun in his hand. Brent’s eyes found him, big and wide with shock. 

“What did you say?”

Cassian shrugged, making his way closer to the inebriated man. “I don’t think anyone will be surprised when they find you. I’ll bet it takes them days before someone comes checking.”

“Look, you don’t have to do this. I can…I can pay you—”

“No you can’t,” Cassian said with a chuckle. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t take your money. This is about honor, of which you have none because an honorable man wouldn’t try and threaten a woman for doing her job.”

“She fucked me over—”

“You fucked yourself,” Cassian interrupted, reaching for Brent’s hair a second time. “And you made a mistake coming after her.”

“I’m sorry—”

Cassian pressed the barrel of the gun beneath Brent’s jaw.

“I know you are,” he said, holding the man’s gaze. “It’s not enough.”

And then he pulled the trigger. The relief he felt was instantaneous, his blood lust slaked. It took another few seconds to arrange the gun in Brent’s hand, letting both his arm and the weapon fall lifelessly into his lap. The bottle of Jack hit the floor with a thud, spilling over stained wood floors.

The scene was practically a work of art. Textbook suicide—no one would look twice at him or Nesta. That didn’t stop him from wiping his prints on the way out, just in case. He found himself back on the couch, face washed of blood, before two am. 

Cassian had been right about one thing: it took them three days to find Brent.

“Suicide,” Nesta said crisply when she learned, eyes focused on Cassian’s face.

He only smiled. 

[summerlovingbaby]

tuna fish

Rhody Soul didn’t have much to smile about. His mom was dead, and his dad abadoned them, and he was stuck caring for his younger siblings. He loved them dearly, but was burdened by too much responsibility when he was only a kid himself, and it bothered him that he couldn’t give them the life the deserved. They deserved better than a trailer on the wrong side of town, but that was all Rhody could afford.

Nobody would give him legitimate work, so he was stuck doing unsavory work under the table. His jobs were frequent and low paying and he hated waking up everyday to be a crimminal. He hated leaving the trailer everymorning and kissing his siblings on the cheeks for what could have been the last time and going to work.

When he was younger he wanted to be a pilot, but now that idea seemed so childish. The only thing he had to look foreward to was the pretty girl he saw on the way to work. Her name was Y/N, and she worked in the sandwich shop a few blocks from the bar. She was one of the only people he could remember that still smiled at him, and he often more times than not smiled at him.

And after a long day at work, he would stroll into the sandwich shop and sit at the counter. And everyday he would sit with his elbow at the counter and his palm in his hand to smile at her. Every day he would ask the same question.

“ How’s the tuna?”

“ Same as yesterday, shitty,” she would always respond.

And everyday he would scarf down a tuna fish sandwich on white bread, even though it tasted awful and take the long walk back home. Everyday he thought he would come up with the courage to ask her out, but everyday he actively thought against it. Y/N was too good for him, she was too sweet, to kind to be with his cruelty. She would turn him down, or worse never smile at him again, and he wasn’t sure if he could get through the day without her smile.

Rhody Soul wasn’t quite sure how a day that started off so well, took a horrible turn. It was supposed to be a normal job, but he somehow found himself thrust into a situation that he couldn’t control. He was now in possession of a briefcase that belonged to a group terrorists who set to kill nearly everybody in the world.

His only companion was a green haired hero named Deku, who had a hero complex and a morality streak, but he still found himself liking Deku. He was nice in a way that other kids his age weren’t, and displayed true heroics unlike the heroes from his town. They only protected the rich, and he wasn’t rich so they didn’t protect him or his family. Deku seemed to be a hero for the right reasons, he just wanted to do the right thing in a way that was so honest Rhody couldn’t fault him. And then, after Rhody made a stupidly rash decision despreate to get home, Deku took a arrow for him.

Rhody nearly sick with guilt attempted to patch Deku up the best he could. Why Deku saved him, Rhody didn’t understand, but the only thing he knew now as that he had to return the favor. The two talked, about their lives back home.

“ Who is she?” Deku asked with a smile. Rhody just finished telling him about his sister and brother, but a smile glanced across his face at the name he couldn’t mention.

“ What?”

“ By the way you’re smiling I assume it’s a girl… or a boy?” Deku asked.

“ I-” he hesitated, but then he decided he could trut Deku, and he realized that what he wanted more than anything was to talk about her, tell someone about the greatness of her smile or the brilliance behind her eyes. “ Her name is Y/N, she works at the sandwich shop a few doors down. I keep meaning to ask her out, but chicken out everytime.”

“ Why?”

“ She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. I go to her sandwich shop every day and order a tuna sandwich just because it seems to amuse her, even though it was the worst thing on the menu. Everyday I wake up, and the only thing that could get me out of that trailer was the hope that I could see her, even if it was only for a minute. And talking to her makes me smile, even on the bad days, the days that I hate my dad, and the days that I miss my mom, or when I get overwhelmed with the kids, she was just always there and made me feel better.”

“ Why won’t you ask her out then? You seem to like her.”

“ I do like her,” Rhody admitted. He liked her alot, he liked her more than he knew what to do with. “ I just don’t want to ruin our friendship, she’s one of the best things in my life and I don’t want to lose her.” Rhody said. “ I mean I keep meaning to, but I never had a reason to. Maybe after all this is over I can tell her how I feel,” he said. He waved his arms, motioning to the cave around them. “ This whole situation gave me perspective.”

Y/N watched helplessly as Rhody was apprehended by the police and then shot at when he didn’t comply. She called him as many times and left about 60 voicemails before his voicemail was full and texted him as many times as her phone plan allowed. Worry gnawed at her insides, and she nearly made herself sick over it.  Two days of complete radio silence, after he was believed to be a suspect in a terriost attack, she couldn’t help but think the worst. That he was dead, and she would never get the chance to hear his contaigous laugh again, and that she never got the chance to go on a date with him.

Everyday he came into her little sandwich shop on the corner and ate the worst thing on the menu. And everyday she made poor attempts to flirt with him, but he seemed generally unreceptive. One day she found herself looking forward to him stopping by during dinner, and waiting for him to order the shit tuna sandwhich and make flirty small talk. 

Two days later she got a phone call from a unnamed number, and for some reason she answered it. By the sound of it, it sounded like a teenage boy, and she almost hung up believing it was a sick prank call, but then she was told something that she couldn’t help but believe. After two days of thinking her favorite person was dead, the hope that he might be alive was too much to ignore.

She found Deku waiting outside the hospital, he smiled wide at the sight of her. She was every bit as pretty as Rhody described, and seemed just as sweet. She brought him a bouquet of flowers, and was shaking with nerves.

Deku showed her to the room and she nearly burst into tears. Rhody had a successful surgery, and was off the ventalitor but was stilla attached to tubes and wires. His skin was pale and his hair was limp against the pillow. It was hard for Deku to see him like that and he only knew Rhody for a week, so he could only imagine what it was like for the girl who spent every dinner with him for the past two years.

Deku helped her to the chair sitting next to her bed, and asked the nurses for a container for the water. Deku pulled up a chair next to her to wait. The doctors told him, that while medically he was still okay, he was still in a coma, and there was no telling when he would wake up, or even if he would wake up at all. 

“ Do Roro and Lala know?” she asked quietly.

“ Yes, there with hero’s until we can find a better situation for them. They said that theres an aunt they’re looking for, trying to keep them out of the system and keep them together if we can help it.”

“ That’s good,” she said quietly. Her fingers stroked the hair out of Rhodys face, flinching at the coldness of his skin.

“ He told me about you,” Deku spoke suddenly, Y/N looked up at him, and blinked away the tears. “Yeah, he talked about you alot, told me all about the tuna sandwiches.”

“ He tell you they were shit?”

“ Yeah, didn’t stick around for the sandwiches, he stuck around for you.” Deku said.

“ He did what?”

“ He wanted to ask you out but never got the chance,” Deku said quietly. “ Thought he would want you to know, in case…” his voice dropped off, not wanting to state the obvious, that Rhody might never get the chance, that he might die very soon.

She stuttered something, then let herself fall forward on the bed. Her forehead resting on his forearm as she struggled to breathe against the stale hospital comforter. She fell asleep soon after, tears tired her to exhaustion, and days of worried adrenaline finally faded and she collapsed into exhaustion.

Hours later she woke up on  the cot on the other side of the room. Someone jammed an IV in her arm. The sound of a laugh woke her up with a start, and when she rolled over to look at the bed, she saw a sight that made her smile. Rhody was sitting upright, poking at lime jello and talking to Deku.

“ Rhody?”

“ Hi,” he whispered in her direction. “ Heard you were worried about me,” he said cockily.

“ I hate you,” she said half heartdly. The hope of his recovery was almost too much for her to believe in, but here he was upright and otherwise fine, and it took everything in her not to throw herself over him and cry. Doing that would be decidedly uncool.

“ No you don’t,” he smiled.

“ I’m glad you’re okay.”

“ I figured,” he said. 

She walked to the side of his bed and stood bedside. She wanted to slap him across the face for worrying her but could only smile.

“ Can I kiss you,” she asked softly.

Rhody looked at her incrediously. “ Excuse me?”

“ Since you are such a moron who can’t tell a shit tuna sandwhich from flirting, I’m being very obvious. I like you Rhody, I’ve liked you for a year and a half, now are you gonna let me kiss you, or is your heart gonna stop when I do?”

Rhody could only nod, his voice trapped somewhere in his lungs. He was to baffled to believe what he heard. She had been flirting with him for a year and a half and he was too much of a dense idiot to notice. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, you would think with all the time he thought about kissing her, he would be more prepared for what it felt like. The kiss felt like safety and home and trust and everything he lost when his dad left, and reminded him of everything he wanted to keep close.

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