#'have you tried being nice' has lived in my head for almost six years

[evverest]

love that i'm writing a therapist into my fic specifically so the therapist can be So brutal

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend 

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings 

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 

-

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 

“You’re right.” 

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 

“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 

-

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 

-

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

[darnell-la]

Can you do dark!Logan being kinky and baby trapping you?

summary: Logan knew everything in the past, wouldn’t matter once he did his job, so he decided to go on a side mission to fulfill a dream he’s been dreaming about for years.

btw, this story was a bit rushed just like the rest that we will be posting soon. college has been kicking our main authors ass…

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA TRIGGERS YOU!

———

Logan had woken up on a huge hotel bed, with a hand over him. The man was confused, not understanding what was going on until he remembered he was sent back in time.

Logan quickly got dressed, not wanting to wake up the women that were in his bed. His only thought was on y/n. He even remembered offering his room to these two women because he couldn’t have y/n.

Y/n was and still is dating Scott Summers. Logan couldn’t stand it. Scott had confronted Logan once, telling him and everyone how jealous Logan was of him because he had everything the lonely animalistic man wanted.

Logan couldn’t help but laugh when Scott thought he read him like a book. Logan could have any girl Scott wanted. He proved that by reeling in Jean.

Logan wanted y/n before anyone knew who she was. He was the first to see her, the first to talk to her, the first to make her laugh, and the first to make her upset. Logan hated the fact that they didn’t talk as much because of Scott.

“We can’t talk if you’re gonna keep flirting with me, Logan. I’m not Jean, and I’ll never be her,” y/n said years ago at a party after Logan pulled her into a bathroom.

“I know you’re not Jean. You’re better, and he knows that. He knew I wanted you, so he got you first,” Logan tried explaining to y/n, but she ended up leaving after apologizing. It wasn’t her problem or fault that Logan couldn’t commit.

Logan is currently outside of y/n’s house, debating on whether he should go through with this or not. He bought a basket, hoping he could sweet talk his way into her house, maybe even get her to take him and leave Scott.

“Hello?” Y/n asked in her sweet and soft voice as she opened the front door. “Logan- Hey, what are you doing here?” Y/n asked as she opened her door further, seeing a friendly face.

“Hey, just wanted to stop by. It’s been a few months, right?” Logan wanted to confirm to make sure his dates were right. “Yep — I do miss the team, though. Maybe I’ll visit next week,” y/n smiled.

“Could I maybe come in, and put this down?” Logan asked as he lifted the basket that he had put together for a good hour. “Yeah, of course,”

Y/n and Logan talked for a while, catching up on each other, but she couldn’t help but notice how flirty he was. She had told him not too long ago, that he needed to quit with it.

“Logan, it’s nice to meet you and all, but you can’t just come in here- In my house that Scott pays for, and flirt with me — I-I thought you came by to say congratulations on Scott’s sad mistake,” y/n giggled at the end of her sentence.

“Congratulations? To what?” Logan asked. “Didn’t Scott tell you as well as the others that I was pregnant? Well, at least I thought I was. Sadly, I was only two weeks late,”

Logan felt an instant pressure in his head. He’s never known anything about any close pregnancy. If his calculations are right, this would only be the first six months of Scott and y/n dating.

“Are you okay? Logan, hey,” y/n snapped her fingers in Logan’s face to get him back into reality. “You were almost pregnant? How? Why? When- I-“ Logan couldn’t keep himself from thinking.

It’s almost like Scott took no time to try and claim her — To try and claim what was his.

“Relax, I’m not actually pregnant. We’ve had our small talk, and we think it’s better to wait until it’s our one-year anniversary,” y/n smiled as she sat down on the living room couch.

“You haven’t even been with the man for a year, and you already had a pregnancy scare? Are you serious, y/n?” Logan asked in a tone y/n was surprised by. Why was he so upset?

“I mean, we’re around the age people start making a family, so-“ y/n went to continue, ur Logan cut her off with a loud sigh as he rubbed his hands all over his face. He’s never been this stressed in his life.

“You let him breed you? Are you- Fuckin’ hell, Bub,” Logan cussed as y/m scrunched her eyes. “Logan, what is your problem? Scott has been my boyfriend for months. Why do you care if he breeds me?” Y/n could barely repeat the word Logan had used.

The tall man snapped his neck to look at her. He was upset about how she could see how wrong this was. Opening her legs, and letting Scott go in raw within six months?

“You wouldn’t even kiss me when I tried. You wouldn’t touch me. You wouldn’t let me please you — I was willing to keep it slow and only go down on you, but you rejected me? For what? For Scott!?”

“Logan, it’s fine to leave,” y/n got up to show Logan out of her home, but instead of letting her, he pushed her back down on the couch. “No! No more running. I’m fuckin’ tired of this. Are you even happy? Do you seriously see more in him than me!?”

“Logan, please just leave. Scott will be back in half an hour, and-“ y/n tried getting up again, but this time, Logan pushed her down on her back and hovered over her.

“Then he can come home to a pretty sight if you bread right,” Logan growled before he began tugging at y/n’s leggings that he just knew Scott bought for her. All Scott did was buy things Logan would love seeing y/n in.

“Logan- Stop! Get off of me!” Y/n tried fighting, almost forgetting that Logan was a mutant and she wasn’t. He was automatically stronger than him. He didn’t even struggle.

“Gonna take it easy on you for right now, Bub, but when I get back to my future past, I’m gonna give you think kids you want,”

Y/n didn’t know what to say. He was all over the place. She’s never seen anything like this in Logan. She wanted to talk to him and ask him what was going on, but that left her mind when he got her leggings just under her ankles.

“Logan- Stop this! Get off of me, you can’t- You can’t fucking do this!” Y/n cried out, upset that Logan never got the idea. It’s not like y/n never saw anything in him.

Y/n just hated how he wanted women to chase him, and when he never got them to, he pushed until he got what he wanted. Today, he had to do more the seduce a woman with his looks and words.

“I can do whatever I want. Who’s gonna fuckin’ stop me, huh? You? Oh, you can’t lie, Bub. I smell how sweet you are from up here,” Logan chuckled as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You know, when I get back, the date will be set back before Scott met you, meaning, I get to have another chance. I could’ve waited to taste you, but as soon as you mentioned Scott impregnated you — God, that pissed me off,”

Logan held his cock as he pushed pushed into her. He knew his length would be the biggest she’d ever taken, and that only made him want to stretch her out more.

“L-Lo!” Y/n screamed as her back automatically arched. “Yeah, that’s it? Haven’t had a good cock since you’ve been with Scott, huh?” Logan asked as he continued pushing his cock through her lips.

“Logan!” Y/n cried loudly as he slammed himself all the way into her. “Take it, baby — I know you can,” Logan took his hands and pushed her waist into the couch, pinning her down so she couldn’t get away.

“Just look at you — You’re soaked and gripping me so tight,” Logan pounded away as y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She tried telling herself she couldn’t do this, but the way her body reacted made things so difficult.

“I bet you’ll love it when I fill you up, babe — No matter how much you say no, I know you’ll love it. You’ll love me,”

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 5

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, small angst, bullying, reader being a victim

Chapter Word Count: 6639

MDNI 18+

A/N: sorry this took so long! Life has been a lot aha. I kinda feel like I’ve rambled on with this one, so I’m sorry about that… I also feel like this was kinda a filler chapter? Idk, I’m sorry if this one isn’t as exciting… Either way, I hope you like it! As always, it's only proofread by moi, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Sunday mornings were the only time we could get away with being lazy. I would crawl out of bed at around eight o’clock - compared to my normal six o’clock - and shuffle downstairs in my pyjamas in search of coffee whilst Levi was either still sleeping or playing Guitar Hero on the PS2, quietly by himself. On this particular Sunday morning, however, I did indeed venture downstairs at just gone eight, and instead of finding one young boy playing video games by himself, I was greeted with the sight of him battling it out with his uncle whilst his dad sat and watched, critiquing his techniques. I padded in quietly, pulling my long soft cardigan around me further as I tried my best to watch on unseen, enjoying this moment just as much as they were and unwilling to pop their happy bubble. I watched for a few minutes, seeing how Sam didn't go easy on Levi just because he was a kid, and how Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off his son who was entirely immersed in the game, a soft smile taking up permanent residence on his lips. Dean turned his head slightly and caught sight of me in the archway, that soft smile evolving into a pulse quickening grin. He stood quickly, striding over to me with those plaid pyjama pants distractingly low on his hips.

“G’mornin’ sweetheart, you sleep ok?” He was now a few inches away and smelt like coffee and warm linen - it was the sort of scent that wrapped around me and drew me in with an almost dangerous nature.

“Like the dead,” I grinned, looking up at him, “though I'm not surprised after all those beers and our 1AM bedtime. You're a bad influence Winchester,” I poked his chest and had to fight back a groan when I felt how frustratingly firm his muscles were beneath his grey henley. Instead of vocalising my ‘annoyance’, I bit my lip, which in its own way I suppose was worse. Worse, because now those mossy green eyes were looking at my mouth, their gaze lingering before looking back up to my eyes.

“What can I say except I had a good time? It was nice catching up like that. It was like…”

“Like we’d gone back to a simpler time?”

“Like we'd never been apart.” 

Those words held a sudden weight to them that thumped deep in my chest.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, my eyes not leaving him, “I know what you mean”.

We both seemed caught up for a moment, silent and unmoving - just watching each other. He seemed totally steady, save for the deep inhale he took when I held his gaze just a little too long. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance that seemed too quick to have ever even existed in the first place.

“Coffee?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Coffee sounds great,” I smiled, glancing over to Sam and Levi who'd still failed to notice my arrival.

Dean and I paced leisurely to the kitchen where I was pleasantly surprised to see a pot of coffee already brewed, just waiting to be poured. Dean reached into the overhead cupboard, already learning where things were and selected two mugs. Pouring the hot liquid into both of them before handing me one, we both leant against the counter as I relished the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into my fingertips.

“You know,” I took a sip, humming in satisfaction, “I could get used to this,” my words felt dangerous the moment they slipped from my lips, a part of me kicking myself for vocalising such internal thoughts. Deans eyes widened almost fast enough for me to miss before his gaze returned to normal, his lips parting slightly as his mug paused on the elevation to his mouth. But once that half a second was over, it was like the fleeting surprise never happened. He simply hummed in agreement, his eyes soft and warm.

“Did you sleep ok?” I said quickly, taking the attention away from my earlier slip of words. He grinned with a nod.

“You have no idea how nice it is to sleep somewhere that's not musty and dusty and a possible crime scene from back in the eighties.” I grinned much like he did, my mind suddenly filling with images of brown and orange decor, unwashed bedsheets and spiders who might as well pay rent because they’ve been there so long.

“Well I can assure you that you're safe from all of that here - though no promises on the eighties crime scene, I have no idea who lived in this house back then.”

Deans grin turned more self assured as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“You don't think the equipment I brought would've made a noise if there was something here that went bump in the night?”

“Equipment?” I almost snorted, “you mean the EMF thing that you made on ‘pimp my Walkman’?”

Dean practically clutched his pearls.

“How dare you - that thing is a work of art. Blood, sweat and tears went into that masterpiece,” by the end of his sentence he was grinning again, almost like he knew he was talking out of his ass.

“Uh huh. Sure thing baby.”

Shit.

Deans lips twitch upwards as the intensity of his gaze sparks up something hot before quickly dying out, his posture straightening as he lifts his mug to his mouth again. I kick myself a second time for letting the term of endearment roll off my tongue. I’d never had this issue before - accidentally calling people nicknames or anything of the sort. I’d dated guys who had perfectly reasonable names that I always remembered to call them. Yet Dean… he stood here, in my kitchen after almost a decade and somehow still managed to turn my brain to butter. It was hard to describe, as surely I couldn’t still feel that way for someone who I’d been parted from for so long with not a whisper of their name from anyone's lips but my own. I no longer knew him. Nine years of time and life and experiences will have sculpted Dean and everything that I knew him to be into a totally different person…wouldn’t it? Hell, maybe he’s even got a girlfriend somewhere out there who's waiting for him to return to her, but he’s just been too nice to mention it. That, or I’ve been too selfishly wrapped up in things that used to be us to even think of asking. Perhaps the mushy consistency of my brain was simply another symptom of some so-called ‘muscle memory’, as my current behaviour was always how I’d been around him. Flirty. Playful. Infatuated. Perhaps I simply didn’t know how else to act; how to be normal in his presence because I knew he’s seen every inch of me, both physically and philosophically. He’d seen my ugly days yet he’d still kissed away the turmoil without so much as a second thought. Maybe, just maybe, I needed to reel myself back in - take myself back to before we were star crossed lovers. Before the memories were made and our hearts beat to the same tune. Back when we were just two people who would laugh and joke and stay up late. Perhaps that would make this all easier.

“There’s that name again,” Deans low drawl snapped me from my internal debate, an unreadable expression dawning on his features.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think my mouth and brain are working together anymore,” I sighed, fighting to keep some sliver of amusement in my voice. 

“Oh yeah?” a smirk appeared on Deans face, that playful glint returning to his eye as he chewed his bottom lip as though having an internal debate of his own. Who knows what side won, but I’m sure some form of sleep depravity was involved with his next few words: “I remember a time when your mouth didn’t need your brain and it worked just fine on its own.” If his aim here was to make me flustered, he’d sure as hell succeeded as heat bloomed across my cheeks and my mouthful of coffee was spat back into my cup with a splutter.

“Dean!”

He released an almost wicked laugh, clearly pleased with himself for my reaction. If he was going to be making comments like that on a regular basis, it was going to prove extremely difficult for ‘operation: we’re just friends’ to be in full effect. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll stop,” his words were softer yet the edge of amusement was still present.

I scowled at him with as much venom as a fucking wetwipe, my own amused grin straining at my lips.

“You better,” I jabbed a finger into his chest before placing my half empty coffee mug on the counter, turning away from him to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. I turned back around a moment later and thrust four bowls in his hands along with four spoons and two large cereal boxes.

“Put these on the table before you say anything else that might cause me to choke on my coffee.”

I watched a choking innuendo pass right before his eyes yet he bit his tongue and pursed his lips, taking a moment before his eyebrows rose slightly.

“Were you always this bossy?”

“I’m not bossy, I just have a child who needs to be fed. Now, table,” I pointed to the items in his arms before pointing to their designated destination.

“You could at least say ‘please’,” his tone was growing taunting and it drew a sigh from my chest.

“Fine. Can you put those things on the table, please.”

“Hmm… I don’t feel like you meant that, it felt a little… I don't know… hostile?” The grin was now in full effect.

“DEAN.”

“Ok! I’m going!” he turned and did as I asked, finally setting the table for all four of us. 

Breakfast passed by with so much ease it was as though we’d done it every day of our lives. Sam and Levi continued to talk about Guitar Hero whilst Dean listened, chipping in the classic rock trivia where he could. The whole time, I just sat, listened and watched, absorbing everything about this moment in time and doing whatever I could to make this a core memory. I breathed in, telling myself to remember the smell of sugar and coffee in the air, along with the new and unfamiliar masculine undertone of cologne and old leather. I looked around, watching how the golden morning light made their hair and skin glow in shades of amber and white, the small dust particles in the air illuminated like fireflies. The sound of their animated chatter was soft, creating a serene ambiance that was as pleasant on the ears as notes from a music box. Everything about this moment was all I’d dreamt of; from the fully occupied breakfast table to the relaxed atmosphere, and the cherry on the cake was knowing that these men were family. Levis family. He had a dad and an uncle who wanted to cherish him and spend time with him, to make him feel so important and loved that it made up for nearly nine years of absence. I know, deep, deep down that part of this was from them feeling guilty - Dean more so than Sam - yet that was only a small part. Their love and affection for him stemmed from something real and it was so easy to see, so fucking clear on their faces, that it made me want to cry. And that feeling was so fucking strong that I had to excuse myself from the table and freshen up in the bathroom, barely able to utter a word to them as I stepped away.

After taking five and splashing some water on my face I emerged from the bathroom and headed back downstairs. Sam and Levi were back in front of the playstation, this time playing Need for Speed, and Dean remained at the table, another coffee between his palms as he leant forwards, staring into the liquid. He must’ve heard me coming as he looked up with a slightly concerned expression. 

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” my voice didn’t come out as level as I’d hoped, so I diverted the conversation. “I thought that’d be you over there playing Need for Speed. How come you’re over here glaring at your coffee?”

“Ahh, we’ve been up for a while and I spent about an hour on Guitar Hero with Levi before you came down. Plus…” the small smile on his lips that appeared when he looked over at his son was now directed towards me, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, I hate it when sentences start like that.”

“No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhhh… well, last night when we were talking, you said something that I can’t stop thinking about,” despite his calm expression, his knuckles were starting to turn white around his cup.

“I said a lot of things last night, Dean, you’re going to ha-”

“Let me take you out.”

“What?” 

“Let me take you out,” he repeated, but this time softer and slower, “you said last night that you never get to go out for drinks anymore and that you’ve had some pretty shit dates,” we both grimaced slightly at the thought of that. “ Well… I’m here. Let me take you out. Levi is at a sleepover tonight so you have nothing to worry about where he’s concerned,” he took a deep breath and reached across the table to place his hand, warm and large, over mine. “Let me do something nice for you, like you deserve.” There was a pause as silence settled between us for a moment. He wanted to take me out. Like, a date, or just as old friends, or as co-parents…? I had no idea what his angle was on this. Did he want to have sex? Was that it? Was he just trying to get his dick wet? Old Dean would occasionally pull those tricks with me, though they were usually few and far between, but would the new Dean do that? Was it even a low bar thing to do? Maybe it’s a pity date, and he’s only taking me out because I’ve been so incapable of being able to replace him with someone who is better - who probably doesn’t even exist - that he’s now just feeling sorry for me. Why, oh why the ever living fuck am I even over analysing this? Dean wanted to take me for drinks so why should I care what his motive is. This is a fucking opportunity for me to relax and let loose a little. To not be mom for a few hours. To be me. And why should I care if he wants to fuck me? I should be flattered, right? That he possibly still finds me attractive? And I can’t deny that it’s been a while since I’ve had half decent sex - or any sex at all for this matter. 

“Yes,” I blurted, perhaps a little aggressively. 

“Yes?” he smiles again, that easy, contagious smile, “you’ll let me take you on a date?”

“So it is a date?” I couldn’t help but mirror his grin, adding my own amused tone.

“Wasn’t that obvious?”

“Well, no, you said you’d ‘take me out’. That could mean anything. You could’ve meant with a fucking gun.”

Dean erupted into laughter, shaking his head. That laugh. I remember likening it to a favourite song that was so easy to put on repeat. It was addictive.

“Ok, so I’m not taking you out with a gun. I’m taking you out on a date. Have I dumbed it down enough for ya’ know?”

“If you were any clearer you’d be transparent,” I said, my tone bordering on mocking. 

“Great, well, me and Sammy have a few loose ends to tie up from this case we’re on, so we need to head out soon. We’ll be back by the evening though, soooo…. Be ready for six?”

I nodded eagerly, watching as he stood from the table. The sight of him in the henley - plaid bottoms combo makes me want to have a cozy day indoors, watching nothing but scary movies and scarfing down popcorn and cookie dough. The sigh I heave from my lungs was totally involuntary. 

“Yeah,” I smile, “six is perfect.”

Kat and Toby arrived at the house around noon. Whilst the boys race upstairs to get on with God-knows-what, Kat strides in with a knowing smirk when she clocks the duffle bags that are clearly not mine beside the couch, along with the lingering aroma that's distinctly masculine intertwining with the pumpkin spice from my scented candles. As I studied her face for all but a few seconds, I braced myself for the flurry of questions that I knew were buzzing around her mind.

“Sooooo…” her tone was already amused as she flopped down onto the couch. “Anything you need to tell me?”

“What? Who do you think I am?” I scoff at her words, yet my pulse quickens at the thought of telling her about my plans for tonight. 

“I think you're a woman still in love with her childhood sweetheart and that he's already sweeping you off your feet.”

“I am not still in love with him. I can't possibly be in love with someone I've not seen for almost a decade.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Bitch, don't ‘mmm hmm’ me. I'm not in love with Dean.”

“Would you fuck him?”

“God yes.”

“So you're keeping him around for the possibility of good dick?”

I threw myself down beside her on the couch, pulling a throw cushion into my lap.

“No, that is so not true. I can't believe you'd think me so shallow,” I held my hand to my chest in mock devastation. She hummed again.

“Didn't you do that to what's-his-face?”

“Who?”

“The guy you dated about a year ago, drove around in that Mustang?”

“Oh shit yeah! I think his name was Chad? Or maybe Brad…? Ok yeah, I did kinda keep him around for his dick… and his car. That car was awesome.”

“You shallow, shallow bitch.”

I threw the cushion which hit her square in the face, likely leaving a print of her lipstick behind on the soft fabric.

“But that was just some dude that was only with me so he could fucking tick ‘banged a milf’ off his bucket list. This is Dean I'm talking about. He's… well… he's Dean. And he's not here for me. He's here for Levi. Don't blame a man for wanting to stick around when he's just found out he's got a kid,” I gave her a look that said ‘I fucking love you but please can we drop this now’, and she did, one final hum moving past her lips. We stared at each other for a moment, her expression one of a studious nature and mine one of feigned innocence. This woman could read me like a book, and I both simultaneously loved and hated it. I loved it, because when something went wrong, and quite often in my life things did, she just knew. She knew to be at mine that same evening with a bottle of red and a bucket of popcorn, pyjamas on and the boys asleep upstairs. This woman had slept in my bed more times than any man as we continued to have sleepovers like teenagers well into our twenties. Alcoholic sleepovers. Yet I hated how she read me like a book, because like right now, if I was in denial about anything or for some absurd reason trying to keep a secret, she would just know. She was like a fucking mind reader. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of that being true. Maybe Dean should scan her with his Walkman and freak her out. Maybe then she'd get off my case about me still being in love with him. I'm not in love with him. 

“You still aren't telling me something,” her voice was even, the amusement fading slightly as she stared at me, waiting for me to stop beating around the bush. Under the heat of her stare I caved, sighing and slumping even further into the soft cushions behind me.

“He's taking me out…on a date.”

“I FUCKING knew it!”

“What?! How would you know that?!” I almost jumped as she flew forward in her seat, the gleam back in her eyes as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

“I didn't know that exactly, but bitch I knew you were hiding something juicy!”

“It's not juicy! It's casual - just drinks. I’m gonna wear jeans.”

“Oh yeah, because flaunting the curvature of ones ass makes it casual…”

“Aren’t you here to collect my kid or something?” I launch into my last resort to end this hellish interrogation - which involved kicking her out.

“Babes you can kick me out of your house but you can’t ignore this,” she stood slowly, her ‘all-knowing’ expression un-faltering. 

“Kat, it’s only day two of him being here! You are getting way ahead of yourself,” I stood with her, shaking my head. 

“Two days plus the whole freakin’ year you were dating. That man is not a stranger to you. Hell, you’ve probably had that coc-”

“THANK YOU, Kat! I love you, you are the yin to my fucking yang but please for the love of CHRIST - shut up!”

Her expression finally cracked and she practically cackled at my discomfort, making her way to the stairs to get the boys.

“Bitch, if I don’t get details about tonight then -”

“Ok I’ll tell you! But seriously, don’t read into it too much, it’s just drinks.”

She strutted to the bottom of the stairs before ascending, calling over her shoulder; “Sure, whatever you say honey!”

It took longer than I'd have hoped, but Kat eventually left with the boys for the remainder of the day. As soon as they'd left the building, it was like I could breathe again - like the house could breathe again. It was a rare occasion for me to have the place to myself for five minutes, let alone a whole twenty four hours. It was like I could finally hear my own thoughts again after the busy breakfast and Kat's dire interrogation. The silence was bliss. It was pure bliss as I made myself a coffee and settled comfortably on the couch, taking a moment to myself. It was blissful right up until my own thoughts started banging at the door in the back of my mind. Thoughts about Dean, and his motives and my motives. Suddenly my relaxing afternoon to myself was quickly becoming a caged-in trap for my internal thoughts to run wild, the drums of possibilities sounding in the far reaches of my brain, beating faster and faster the closer they drew. Almost as quickly as I'd sat down, I jumped up and headed to the store cupboard under the stairs. One thing that could distract me was cleaning, so that's exactly what I was going to do. 

I blitzed the house from top to bottom, hoovering, mopping, cleaning mirrors and windows, dusting and evening folding the pile of laundry that was starting to become part of the furniture. Much to my dismay, that only took up two hours of my time, so I was left with the only other task that I hate more than folding hundreds of small human sized pieces of fabric. Grocery shopping. 

After a manic stock take of the fridge, cupboards and pantry, I made a list, grabbed my bag, threw on my jacket and headed out.

I'd been shopping around the small town convenience store for around twenty minutes, browsing the aisles and throwing everything - plus some extras - from my list into the aggravatingly wonky trolley. I hated grocery shopping with a passion - the constant beeping from the checkouts, the passive aggressive road rage between trolley users, and the dozens of obscenely slow browsers frustrated me beyond belief. I was normally able to push it to a big haul every two weeks, but with the prospect of Sam and Dean staying a while, it was a safe bet to fill the house to the brim with snacks and meals alike. With the lifestyle that those two lived, I can't imagine that they're overly fussy eaters, and I have a hunch that Dean still loves turkey dinosaurs.

The cereal aisle wasn't supposed to be an eventful place - deciding between Cookie Crisp and Cinnamon Squares should be the highlight of this venture. However as my luck would have it, it became eventful.

“Oh hi! (Y/n)!”

I looked up from my crumpled list and was greeted with three faces that I recognised but not to the point of acquaintanceship.

“Uhh, hi? Can I help you?” 

“I just wanted to say that it's so great to finally see that Levi's father is around. It's just so important, isn't it? For a boy to have that male role model,” the first woman spoke; her peroxide blonde hair looked so overbleached it may as well have been straw on her head, and it almost distracted me from her painfully patronising voice.

“Excuse me? Do I know you?” My voice started to take on a defensive edge as my palms immediately grew sweaty, this situation already making me uncomfortable. 

She laughed, looking over at her friend's like I'd asked some stupid fucking question. 

“Our son's go to the same school - you should really know this.”

“Well, if our sons aren't friends, then why would I need to?” 

She took a deep breath. 

“I just think it's funny how someone like you managed to get someone like… what's his name… Dean? Isn't he a little out of your league?”

My pulse thrummed as my frustration grew with the sudden, unsolicited and blatant attack. How the fuck did they know Deans name? Someone must've overheard us at Jolenes'... or maybe at the track? And what the fuck did she mean by ‘out of my league’? If she was insinuating what I thought she was, then she's going to need to head over to the fucking freezer aisle real freaking soon.

“Excuse me?” 

She smirked, knowing she was sinking her plastic fucking talons into my skin already.

“Oh I think you heard me. Does Dean know? That you trapped him? When you got pregnant on purpose at nineteen?”

My blood began to boil as I white knuckled the handle of the trolley to stop myself from punching her square between the eyes.

“Fuck you; I didn't ‘trap him’. Is that really what you cliquey bitches think?” I was equal parts furious and heartbroken. Furious, because how fucking dare they assume that just because Dean is a God tier DILf that I fooled him into getting me pregnant all those years ago. And heartbroken because, well, is that really what the people in this town thought of me? If these women thought that, then who's to say half the town don't think the same? Or maybe more - maybe it's the whole freaking town with Kat being the only exception, and I've been living so cocooned in my own bubble that it never even occurred to me. But Dean has barely even been here a day, so I can’t exactly blame myself for being so wrapped up in my own life with everything going on. How can people form such strong opinions so quickly when they don’t even know the whole story? My story with Dean. Not theirs. They’ve somehow managed to put two and two together to come up with negative fucking ten, and I’ll be damned if I let them drag our names through the mud.

“Oh honey, we know that you tricked him. A man like that, with that face and physique would never have chosen you willingly, right? I mean, you really don’t look his type.”

“Oh, and you do? Because you know Dean so well?”

“That’s enough!” We were caught off guard by the oldest of the three, a woman perhaps in her fifties, snapping in a clipped tone. “Michelle, that’s quite enough, you’re taking this too far now. And you,” she turned to me with a stern gaze, “that man looks like trouble. We don’t like those sorts around here; you tell him to behave himself.” My anger and frustration was quickly melting into straight up irritation.

“Look, lady-”

“Karen.”

“Sure, ok… look, Deans a grown ass man, he can do whatever the fuck he likes - he’s here on a job. I’m not telling him to do shit.”

“Language! Such a foul mouth-”

“Is he single?” our heads quickly snapped to the third woman of the group - younger than the other two but still a little older than myself. She was a near double of the blonde from the hair to the clothes to the claws, yet she seemed to lack the spite.

“What?” yet another question that caught me off guard. What the fuck is wrong with these women?

“Dean, is he single? I mean, I’ve not seen him, but from how you describe him, he seems hot,” she twirled a lock of hair around her finger like a school girl despite likely being in her thirties.

“Hannah you’re married,” Karen chimed in with obvious disgust. 

That was it, the last fucking straw. I’d had enough of the ambush from three women that I barely even knew. I adjusted my grip on the trolley and quickly planned my escape route, spotting an opening in the crowd to the side. I gritted my teeth and steeled my gaze, the bitter taste of disgust, fury, and disappointment coating my tongue as I all but spat my words.

“This has been a riveting conversation, truely, but I’m leaving. Now,” and with that I hastily left them behind, finishing my shopping with the dark cloud of judgement looming over me. 

The urge to cry hot, angry tears in the car on the ride home was a battle I didn't want to fight. The intensity of the emotions brewing in the pit of my stomach and bubbling into my chest was so strong, so consuming that I didn't even realise I was pulling into my own driveway, having completed the short journey on what I like to call ‘blackout autopilot’. One tear was shed over the shitshow, and in my opinion, that was one tear too many. I was annoyed at myself with having let it get to me so much, knowing I'd grown thicker skin than this. It wasn't the first time I'd been confronted, like a fucking black sheep in a blindingly white flock, yet for some reason, this got to me. At this point, I was drained from even thinking about it, so I grabbed the groceries, making several trips to get them all in the house, put away the fridge and freezer items and left the rest on the counter to deal with later. Right now, I needed a large glass of wine and something to distract myself with. So I decided on the only thing I had going for me at this point in time.

Time to pick an outfit for tonight.

My bedroom was a modest size and the king-size bed practically consumed the room. I had a large, sliding mirrored-door wardrobe that was built into the structure of the room which I flung open and started to rummage through as soon as I made it upstairs.

I'd told myself - and Kat - that it was casual. Dean had implied it, so this shouldn't be too hard to find something nice to wear.

Wrong.

I must've spent the best part of an hour trying on dozens of different tops with my only pair of ‘nice’ jeans - those ones that hugged my ass and thighs just right. I tried long sleeves, short sleeves, chiffon, cotton, satin, opaque, obscenely translucent, bright, monochrome and in all honesty, I felt inadequate in every single one. I'd never really been one to feel overly self conscious of how I looked, but for some absurd reason, this date with Dean was making me flustered. It had me worried that he wouldn’t like how I looked, especially since I’d had Levi and my body had changed in a way that he didn’t know just yet. 

Just yet. 

I cursed myself slightly, shaking that idea from my head. Yes, I’ve had plenty of time to try and get myself back to normal, but some things just weren't the same anymore, and probably never would be. I hated the fact that I was even stressed about this. The safest option was to just go for something comfortable, so I donned a stretchy, low-cut and long sleeved black top and slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels before sitting down at my dresser. 

I’d just opened my makeup bag when I heard the door downstairs open and close, quickly followed by the oddly comforting sounds of Sam and Deans voices floating through the house and up the stairs. I turned to myself in the mirror, sighing at the tired looking woman staring back at me. Get your shit together, (Y/n), Dean is taking you on a date. I grasped my over-sharpened eyeliner pencil that was likely no longer than an inch in length and got to work. I suddenly flinched and nearly poked myself in the eye when Dean appeared in my bedroom doorway.

“Jesus, Dean! You scared the crap out of me - I didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.”

He grinned slightly as he leant against the wooden frame, large arms crossing over his chest. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to…” his voice trailed off and I could feel his eyes on me, as though he was searching for something. A few moments went by in silence, and right as I was about to turn to him, he spoke.

“Hey, are you ok?” His voice was dangerously soft, and concerned in a way that could easily have me weeping in his arms. Because of the shitty afternoon I’d had, I feel like it wouldn’t take much kindness from him to have me crumble - no matter how much I’d hate myself for it afterwards. Instead, I pushed everything down as best as I could and turned to him with a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve had a bit of a weird, shitty afternoon but I won’t ruin your evening with it.” At my words he pulled a face, his own words quickly following.

“It’s your evening. And if there’s something eating at you, you know you can talk to me. Just like you used to,” his smile was back, warm and comforting and like a balm over a burn. I looked back at myself in the mirror for a moment, debating if it was even worth talking about. If it was anyone but Dean, I wouldn’t hesitate to keep this to myself. But it was Dean, and I hated to say it, but he was always good at dealing with me when I was like this in the past. I turned to him and let his calming presence seep into my bones, desperately trying to take it on myself.

“Ok,” I said quietly, “I’ll tell you at the bar. But I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I don’t want to talk about it all evening,” He nodded.

“Whatever you need sweetheart,” he stood up straight and said something about getting ready himself before he left the room, leaving me to finish up before finally heading downstairs. 

It was roughly another fifteen minutes before I made my way down; Dean already waiting for me in the archway to the kitchen. He looked up as he heard me coming, eyes brightening when he grinned at me.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” his voice was smooth and deep, a flirtatious undertone rumbling in his chest. 

“Not so bad yourself Winchester,” I walked up to stand in front of him, almost toe-to-toe. I looked him over, taking in the black shirt he wore, untucked and paired his jeans. The boots and brown leather jacket remained the same, yet I could see the damp patches on both from where he’d scrubbed either mud or blood from the fabric - perhaps both. It wouldn’t be the first time. I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as his scent filled my senses. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, removing a hand from his pocket and let it hang awkwardly at his side. I shook my head. 

“Not yet, I sometimes forget to eat when Levi isn’t around.” Dean shot me a look that could have been both concerned or protective.

“Ok, well I’m taking you for dinner too then.”

“What? No Dean, you really don’t have t-”

“Don’t argue with me sweetheart, I'm fucking feeding you,” his tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation so I sighed in defeat. 

“Fine, but we’re not going anywhere expensive.”

His smirk widened across his face as he continued to look down at me, finally placing that awkwardly hanging hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the door. He shouted a ‘goodbye’ to Sam over his shoulder and, without really waiting for a reply, he ushered me out of the house and towards the car, locking up behind us. I walked up to the black vehicle, the excitement starting to bubble at the thought of going for a ride in her again after all this time. As Dean walked up to me, he opened the passenger side door, letting me hop in first. I took my seat, quickly dumping my bag and jacket in the footwell so I could softly run my fingertips over the perfectly maintained leather seats, noticing how not a thing had changed - not even the box of cassettes on the back seat. As Dean slid into the drivers seat, his expression something akin to pride, he couldn’t help but comment on my reaction to being back in the impala.

“I bet you missed Baby more than you missed me,” he joked, turning the key and letting the engine roar into life. I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat.

“I missed you both equally,” the humorous tone came easily, my earlier worries already started to feel insignificant as they slipped away with every tick of the engine.

“Equally?” he echoed, feigning hurt, “you don’t even prefer me just a little bit more?”

I pretended to ponder intently, holding a finger to my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. An obnoxious string of ‘hmmms’ slipped through my lips before I saw him roll his eyes, still grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Especially since you're taking me on a date,” my own words made my heart flutter and luckily he'd moved his gaze from me to the road as he pulled out of my drive. My face felt warm and I cursed at myself for being so easily affected by him already, entranced by the way those long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and the muscles in his jaw flexed under the glow of the passing street lamps. I couldn't deny that he was still painfully attractive, even after all this time. If I was being honest with myself, he was making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on much else right now. If drinks were soon to be involved, there was a very high chance of me making a total ass of myself in front of him.

Tonight was likely going to be one to remember.

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[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Bronze

words: 785

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It was the summer before sixth year, Sirius was finally living with the Potters and everything was looking up. His nightmares were less frequent, he was sleeping more and eating an amount fit for a teenage boy. Effie was trying to teach him to cook and some of it was going in. It really seemed like the perfect summer.

Until Remus returned from France, Lyall Lupin had ministry work in Marseille for almost five weeks, meaning that Sirius hadn’t seen Remus in over a month. He did notice that he didn’t care as much about not seeing Pete for over a month but shrugged it off as a canine camaraderie thing.

When Remus popped out of the grand fireplace in the drawing room, Sirius was speechless. Remus, with his sandy hair and his pink cheeks, was now all shades of bronze. He had freckles.

James seemed to sense that they’d be getting no sense out of Sirius for a little while, “Fuck, Moony. You’re all… Did you just lie under the sun the whole time?”

“Reading in the sun is the best way to spend a summer.” Remus looked curiously at Sirius. “Maybe not if you’re as pale as you, Pads. You’d just burn.”

“He’d go a glorious pink!” James said proudly. “Want a cuppa?”

“Yeah, I’d love one. Thanks, Prongs.” Remus dropped his bag onto the floor by the sofa as James bustled off to make the tea. “Pete not here yet?”

Sirius shook his head trying to tear his eyes away from Remus’ face, “Nah, he’s getting here about six. His mum has a thing or something.”

Remus nodded, “How’s your summer been? Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

“Honestly, best summer ever.” Sirius finally relaxed, “I still don’t feel like it’s real. I keep expecting to wake up back at Grimmauld Place.”

“You never need to wake up there again,” Remus said softly, and Sirius smiled at him. “Thanks for writing to me, by the way. Not that being in Marseilles wasn’t great, but Dad had work and then with Mum having to go back and care for Nana, it was lonely.”

“Oh, no problem. Thanks for writing back. Hope it didn’t interrupt your tanning sessions.”

“Do I really look that different?” Remus chewed on the side of his lip.

“You’re all… bronze. Your hair, your face. It’s wild. Your scars being paler than your skin is weird. In a good way!” He added hastily, “It suits you.”

“Well, thanks.” Remus could feel his face growing even darker. “It’s a shame we’re about to go back to Scottish Autumn.”

“You could find one of those muggle squirty tans.”

Remus chuckled, “Nah, I don’t think that’s for me. I’ll just fade back to pale Remus and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Sirius tried to understand why he didn’t like that thought. He liked this new confident, smiling Remus. Would that also fade with the tan? Or was that just a consequence of spending several weeks alone in France? The thought that maybe he’d met a nice French girl made his stomach churn. It would explain a lot about the way Remus carried himself now.

James came back with a tea tray. “Mum and Dad are out tonight, but Mum made us dinner before she left so we won’t starve.”

“Hey, I can cook now!” Sirius snapped, to Remus’ surprise.

“Making pasta bake and egg fried rice is not the same as being able to cook.” James sighed.

“But it’s more than you can do, Prongs.” Remus smiled at Sirius. “And you’ve lived with your mum for sixteen and a half years.”

“Ugh, I should have known you pair of dogs would start ganging up on me within minutes of getting here.” James poured the tea into three mugs carefully. “Just wait until Lily starts spending time with us, then I’ll have someone on my side.”

“Firstly, you wish, and secondly, bold of you to assume she wouldn’t side with Moony.” Sirius gestured at him, “Especially when he looks like this!”

James gave him a strange look before turning back to Remus, “How were the French girls?” He waggled his eyebrows, “Any French stories to tell?”

Remus said nothing, but a smile teased at one corner of his mouth, and Sirius suddenly panicked. He picked up his mug and took a sip, even though it was way too hot. “Don’t hassle the man, James. Just because you’re not getting any!”

“Oh, because you are?” James said, at the same time Remus nodded at him in silent thanks. “Honestly, Moony, can you teach Sirius to be better at silencing charms while you’re here?”

Sirius choked on his tea.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: Dino x fem!reader

Requested: no

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning(s): cheating, angst, sadness, mentions of pregnancy (do inform me if there's more)

Summary: You were the light guiding Chan for the most of his life. now that you are not there anymore, he cant help but feel your absence as he reminisces his past and all those times you were there to ground him no matter what.

Word count: 6k

Other works

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

special thanks to @spamgyu for helping me out 😭

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

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Chan's life was determined before he had a chance to consider it. His family wasn't well-off. They struggled from early on to get food on their plates. He knew from when he was a child that he had to support his siblings because his parents refused to do so.

So that’s exactly what he did. He got into SNU with a full scholarship, secured a good job, and built a stable life with six figures coming in annually to his bank account, providing enough money to support his siblings’ dreams.

But what did it all get him?

Nothing!

He sacrificed his teens and his twenties because his father felt the need to be a raging alcoholic, and now he stands in the middle of Gangnam in his beautiful flat with its polished floors. But he lacks the most important thing in life: happiness.

To be truthful, he lacks a lot of things, but happiness takes the cake. If someone asks him, he lacks friends too. But our dearest Boo Seungkwan would like to disagree about that. In Chan’s defense, friends are absolutely not equal to friend (just a difference of ‘s’, as our dear ‘Kwanie’ said. Plus, his multiple personalities make up for the said lack of ’s’, which further raises the question as to why the man does not go for a checkup, as it seems he has self-diagnosed DID. We shall never know).

Chan is happy about his brothers doing what they like, though. It’s not that hard to not be happy when he literally raised them. Sacrifices need to be made, he has realized; some just make more than others, and there is nothing one can do about that. He accepts that he is indeed grateful for the friend he has made, the one who has stayed with him and accepted him as he is.

Now, it may sound sappy, and Chan swears he will never tell this to Seungkwan, but he has indeed helped him through the thick and thin of life. All those late-night drinking sessions and ugly crying have brought him to this stage in life where he thinks of the boy as more of a family than anyone else. He helped him when Chan’s life was falling apart, and he also was there to scold him back to the right track when no one believed in him, not even himself.

Although he lacks happiness, he is fine with that (he at least has Boo Seungkwan). He can live with being sad; he already has!

This is where you came in, the reason for Chan’s genuine smiles, from back in college to five years ago. It was a pretty serious relationship that you both had. Chan loved you. He had plans of making you his wife. For God’s sake, he was in a relationship with you for almost ten years! But somewhere along the way, he messed up. He became the exact thing he had hated all his life.

He became a person like his father.

You, being the nice kind, tried your best to stop him from spiraling down the rabbit hole of bad habits. But alas, it takes two to tango, and if he didn’t want to be better, no one, not even God himself, could do it for him.

It took losing you to realize how messed up his life had become.

--

“Chan, I’m heading out. Dinner’s in the fridge—please actually eat it this time. We don’t need two meal skippers in this household,” you quipped, watching as Chan chuckled and gave you a quick giggle inducing peck before returned his attention to the document he’d been typing for the past hour.

“Sure thing, Your Majesty. Your command shall be dutifully followed!” he exclaimed with a mock salute, drawing out another laugh from you. With a playful ruffle of his hair and another peck on his cheek, you left the apartment to begin your night shift at the hospital.

Chan, unlike you, has just started his new job after completing his MBA. It’s been tough, but he’s persevered, and soon enough, you both will be able to enjoy the luxuries he could only dream of growing up.

Your fifth anniversary is approaching faster than ever, and now Chan finally has the means to fulfill your dream of a trip to Europe. The pressure of this new job is more than the last one, but getting those tickets would be a walk in the park now.

Quickly finishing his document and mailing it to the head of the department, he immediately goes to check those flight ticket prices and hotel prices. He releases a happy sigh the minute he realizes that it’s exactly what he had expected the prices to be. So, without wasting a single moment, he buys those tickets. He knew this gift would make you happier than ever.

The next month, you had been notified about the expensive purchase only because you had to get a leave from your job, and you obviously can’t disappear for two weeks unannounced. He, in reality, had no plans to inform you about anything, but he couldn’t interfere with your job either.

But at the end it was worth it, the look on your face the minute you were informed about the trip. Oh, if only Chan could frame it and keep it away from the world, only if he could keep you near him and never let you go. But he didn’t think of that then. No, he was happy he had told you earlier.

The happiness radiating off you as you kept going on and on about the clothes you needed to buy, all the foods you were going to try once there. It was what helped him keep going throughout the day, even though the work became tiring with every passing minute.

If only he could have stopped time and lived in that moment forever.

—

One thing he never realized is how demanding his job would be once he got into a higher position. The calls kept him up at night; they came at the most ungodly of times, and Chan was expected to pick them up, because he always did.

You never complained; it was fine by you. If anyone understood him, it was you. Both of you had highly demanding jobs, and nothing could beat the expectations your colleagues had on you both.

But what he had not counted on was those calls interrupting your trip. During the entirety of your anniversary, he was glued to that phone of his, never once able to leave it. It was one problem at the office or the other.

Again, you kept your mouth shut, enjoying your own company as your boyfriend busied himself with work in the hotel room.

That was the last trip you both had gone on. You figured that it was too much to ask from someone who had so much work to do. But still, you understood his hunger to do better in life. You understood that someone had to compromise in the relationship and wholeheartedly accepted that it had to be you.

Coming to think of it, it was not supposed to be like this. Never! Both of you were supposed to communicate and figure out what your relationship was supposed to mean. But somewhere along the line, it just became regular sex and nothing else. When you talked about this with your friends, all of them had the same reaction.

‘Leave him!’ they had told you, ‘he wouldn’t change, he prefers his job more than you.’

It was a regular thing now. But you were scared. All the years you had invested in the relationship, you never wanted it to become what it had. You had held out hope that one day Chan would notice you. He would realize he had a girlfriend who also needs his attention as much as his job.

It didn’t take too long for those dreams to come true, though.

—

One night, you sat down with the man, asking him about the changes in his life. You begged him to look your way beyond the times he made love to you. It was an intense conversation, filled with words that neither of you actually meant, but hurt you both equally.

That night brought you both another few years, or that’s what you think. It became better, both your lives and the relationship. You both would talk more, spend time with each other, laugh with each other, and go about your days with lovesick smiles on your faces. Although none of your jobs became less hectic, it still was as painstaking as ever, but the scenery in your shared home was peaceful. It was both of your comfort zones.

What neither of you realized, this peace that you both had brought back into your lives, was fickle. In order to keep it like that, both of you had to put in some effort.

—

It slowly became visible to both of you how much more effort this relation of yours needed. Both of you saw the way your paradise was crumbling down bit by bit. Nights became lonely for you. Chan, being the perfectionist he is, would be stuck up in his office until the rays of sun hit the glass windows, reminding him of the fact that he indeed had stayed the night in his office. The hectic job took everything away from him. It stripped him of his identity, and slowly it was also stripping his happiness and sanity away. It was like the darker times had hit both of you again.

It was then that he suddenly passed out on the streets due to extreme fatigue and was brought immediately into the nearest hospital, which was the one you worked at. Lo and behold, you were the nurse on emergency room duty that day. This was the first time you saw the love of your life in that state; you saw what this new job had done to him. How it had taken this happy and healthy person you knew and turned him into this sick, unhappy, and overworked person. Your helplessness mocked you in your face. At night, you stayed by his side after the doctors had given their verdict about him being too overworked. You took care of him like never before, making sure to make him take an ample amount of rest.

Sadly, the industry is ruthless. As soon as the employers became aware that their once highly valuable employee’s usefulness had diminished, they ultimately opted to terminate him. Although Chan claims there were some more internal politics involved in this sacking, there was no way he could have evaded it.

Both of you soon realized it was the best thing that could have happened to him. While being the worst experience he could ever go through in his corporate career.

You stayed by his side through every hurdle though. You never once let him feel the need to be more than what he already was. But life was giving both of you a hard time.

It took Chan another month to get a new job. But only this time, it was a better, more important position in a better company. This is when life took off for both of you again. With Chan back on track, equipped with the newfound knowledge of not working more than necessary, he was on a roll. Almost unstoppable.

This change also affected your relationship, but positively this time. Chan and you would go on constant dates and enjoy each other’s company way more than ever.

—

It was nearing your seventh anniversary. Both of you had talked about getting married and starting a family enough times for him to know this was the perfect time for him to propose.

So, on the day of your seventh anniversary, he had planned to take you to this fancy Italian place. He claimed that you deserved only the best. No one could ever argue with him about that. You, along with Seungkwan, had been by his side for so long that he had forgotten the time when he didn’t have you both. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would change that fact. With that it brought him to the most important question of that year.

“But what ring do I buy her?” the stressed boy asked his best friend.

“Wow, I wasn’t informed about the fact that y/n suddenly had become my girlfriend!” Seungkwan exclaimed sassily.

“Dude, you can calm down. She is still my girl, ain’t no way you are getting her. Find a girl of your own,” the shorter boy retorted back.

Why am I being asked about her preference for a ring then, huh?”

“Because she said, and I quote, ‘if you buy me an expensive engagement ring that I can’t even wear out because it looks too expensive, I will castrate you’,” Chan said seriously, bringing out a seal-like laugh from the back of Seungkwan’s throat.

“Do something meaningful for her then, you dumb fuck,” making Chan almost cringe at the scolding. Without letting the boy talk, his best friend continued, “Put in some effort and do something that shows you care, without having to spend a copious amount of money. I have no idea what you should do, but bro, if it were up to me, a girl would for sure get a ring no matter what!”

Now, this made him think. It made him think hard. But even after all that thinking, he couldn’t come up with a good idea for an alternative for an engagement ring.

It was not until the next Saturday when he was sitting on the couch waiting for you to choose a movie for the weekly movie night, did he stumble upon the perfect idea for a ring? Like any usual person, the man was scrolling through TikTok when he found out that one could make rings out of clay.

Perfect!

If you didn’t want a diamond ring, you shall get a clay ring. For you might catch the sun lacking one day, but not Chan, never Chan!

—

This kick-started the learner phase of Chan’s life once again. He would visit the pottery classes every week because he needed to excel at the art to mold the perfect ring. One suitable for daily wear and also because this hobby brought him more peace than ever.

He made some friends here; they were fun to hang out with. You had met all these new people flooding into his life. He would parade about the with his hand on you showing you off proudly.

“Who wouldn’t?” he would ask whenever someone pointed it out. This question had the power to make him start ranting about you at any given point. So much so that after a point, people stopped asking him about you, no matter the context.

Because, oh boy, was he in love.

--

It took him one year and some friendships to finally complete learning everything there was to learn about pottery. In the course of that time, he had littered your shared house with his creations.

Oh, you wanted to buy a new bowl because you saw it on Instagram? No fear, Chan shall make it this instant. Oops, your favorite coffee mug broke? Chan has come to your rescue with a better, scientifically cute, usable, and overall better mug for you.

The creative spark of the boy never dimmed down, nor did his extroverted nature. Every other day, he would be out with his new friends, so much so that even Boo Seungkwan noticed. You both had chats with each other about the changes in Chan’s life over a cup of tea whenever Seungkwan would come over.

To say that you both were happy about him enjoying life would be an understatement. You had seen the pain the man had gone through in his life. It only made sense for him to have the best of the best experiences when he had the opportunities.

But again, as people say, one should do everything in moderation. It seems that Chan could do nothing in moderation. He would work himself half to death. In this case too, he started drinking and partying himself half to death. The outings that were done to unwind after a long hard day became parties that were making the day even longer.

The friends that helped him overcome the pressuring environment of his office became the ones who would pressure him to go way out of his comfort zone, all for the wrong reasons. People say twenties are times when people experiment with their life and gain new experiences.

The same was applicable for Chan too, the only difference being he was learning different ways of spiraling down holes that are hard to climb up from. The hilarious part being, these were the holes that he had carefully dug out himself.

It’s not like you never stopped him, because you did. The minute you realized these new friends were pushing Chan’s limits in the wrong way, you didn’t waste a second to tell him.

“I think you should calm down with this partying and stuff. It’s unbelievably bad for your health,” you had told him one night when he had come home drunk out of his wits.

“I know how to have fun, not my fault you don’t!”

The boy had shouted at you before collapsing on the couch. Realizing it was a waste of time to even try and talk to him in this state, you tried again the next day when he was far more sober.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” you ask Chan, to which he shakes his still-hungover head and winces. Sighing, you continue, “Chan, you can’t let them get to you like this. Moderation is the key here. Please don’t overdo anything, I beg you!” You hugged him, trying to coax him to understand where you were coming from. He obviously hugged you back and promised you to keep your advice in mind the next time they asked him out.

He didn’t. He swears he tried to. But the peer pressure got to him. Before he could even back off, they had already hauled his ass to the bar. He never wanted to disappoint you. So he chose to accept the most coherent plan his drunk mind could formulate: the plan to lie to you.

—

Your seventh anniversary had come and gone a year ago. The only gifts he could provide you that day were a fancy dinner and a solid promise that he would indeed get you the greatest ring you will have ever seen in your whole life. Now the time had come. The time to prove his skills. Those skills he spent an entire year honing.

During this cute date at home, he produced a small wooden box from his pocket. After you had enjoyed the homemade meal he had whipped up for you and you both were cuddling on the balcony, he proposed to you with stars in his eyes and hope in his heart.

He shocked you with the ring. Like your relationship, it was delicate, yet made with lots of love and care. You obviously said yes without hesitation. After all, you loved this man, and he loved you too. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever go wrong if he was with you.

--

It seems that no matter how hard you try, life always seems to have other plans for you.

The month right after you accepted his proposal, you received an invitation for a two-year-long workshop in Germany. Such opportunities don’t come every day, so you were elated.

Without wasting any time, you called Chan, informing him about the opportunity you had received. But like every coin, this great opportunity had its drawbacks too.

With the prospect of studying and learning under some of the greatest doctors and nurses came the hardship of leaving your fiancé behind. Chan didn’t like this one bit. He could barely stand to be away from you for a second, let alone two years.

But seeing the excitement on your face and hearing the joy in your voice, he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to stay back. He knew you had sacrificed a lot for him, compromised at times when you could have been happy if he hadn’t made decisions that ruined his life.

--

So he put on a happy smile and told you that if you didn’t take this opportunity, he would pack your bags himself and kick you out of the house. This assurance gave you the confidence you needed. Without wasting any time, you sent an email accepting the proposition to join the workshop.

The next five months passed in a whim. During this time, he had asked you to marry him before you went away, but with a peaceful and determined smile, you had told him, “I will marry you once I come back, like that, we won’t have to spend too much time as newlyweds. Plus, I will be smarter than you too.”

“You are always smarter than me. I can never surpass you,” was the answer you had received, along with a sweet kiss, making your heart swell like a balloon.

Life was starting to feel better again.

Chan had finally made his boundaries very clear. The boy felt extremely guilty for lying to you, though he never confessed to you about doing so. He made sure his actions proved his redemption. He ensured to let these new friends of his know that going out too much with them was affecting him in ways that he didn’t appreciate. Although they did sometimes win against him and force him to go out, it was not as bad as it was before.

—

Soon the day came when you had to fly away to Germany. To say that Chan was sad would be an understatement. He was devastated when he saw you off at the airport with Seungkwan. He had cried the whole way home, making Seungkwan scold him as if he were a baby.

“Now if you keep behaving like this, do you think she would be happy?” the older boy questioned him.

“No, but I miss her already,” Chan replied in a whisper while wiping his tears harshly.

“Be nice, be happy for her. You can talk to her all the time. It’s not the Stone Age,” Seungkwan said with an exasperated sigh, making the younger one stop his sad boy antics at once.

But it was not like Chan was okay. He started working overtime at the office, desperately waiting for you to call him when you got free. And call you did, religiously at six o’clock in the evening.

You both made the decision to talk at that time, regardless of any circumstances. This went on for six months. He tried his best to follow the routine of overworking himself before you would call and save him from killing himself with work.

But with all these works, his willpower also started to crumble down. The old ways came back to him. Before he realized it, he became a party animal. He made new friends at these clubs and bars he started frequenting. He thought you wouldn’t pick up. But you did. You saw how your boyfriend was slowly changing. It was not that obvious at first, but slowly you realized he was getting drowned with work.

Being the lovely girlfriend you were, you asked Seungkwan to take care of him. The boy tried his best to do so. But alas, he was not that successful.

It seemed to both of you that Chan had spiraled back into his overworking session. What you both were unaware of was that it was more than that.

Chan was not just overworking; he was over-drinking and over partying too.

—

One faithful night; he met Eva, his pottery class instructor. She was pretty. They talked the whole night, catching up like old buddies and having fun.

She brought a change to his life again. She started being there for him during times when he would lose himself. She was a great friend, so great that in no time you had the chance to meet her.

You had come back for a week’s vacation. Seungkwan thought it was important for all the friends to meet up because it had been a long time since he had seen you. This meeting was supposed to consist of only you, Chan, and Seungkwan. But Chan asked to bring in another friend he would like you to meet. It was Eva.

You liked her; she was nice. You wanted to be friends with her. Her sweet personality was something no one could resist, a great example of a sweetheart through and through.

For once, you were actually proud of your boyfriend’s choices in life. Your visit was over even before it had started. Suddenly, the week was over, and you were packing your bags to return to Germany.

This time, Chan was not as scared of things going downhill anymore. He knew that within a few more months, you would come back, and he could happily start the wedding preparations. He also knew he had a solid group of friends to have his back. Most importantly, he had learned the art of living without you. Not that it was happy, but now he could enjoy spending time by himself.

—

Time flew faster than ever. In no time, it was Chan’s birthday. Your program would finish that same month, so sadly you couldn’t visit him. All you could do was video call him that morning and congratulate him for hitting thirty before you, to which he grumpily replied, “Your birthday is in six months; I’m gonna make it hell for you.”

“Whatever, old man, get dressed. Don’t you have a job to go to?” You laughed at his grumpy face while teasing him even more.

“I miss you,” Chan suddenly called out, pouting.

“You will meet me next month, Channie. Don’t be this sad now.” Although that did make him happy, the thought of spending yet another birthday without you was saddening. But it’s not like it was going to last. You would be back in no time.

That thought put a smile on his face. Soon enough, he was skipping around the house cooking breakfast and answering numerous calls from his friends and family for being a thirty-year-old now.

Seungkwan and Eva had also planned a not-so-surprise party for him. It consisted of meeting in front of his office and dragging his ass to the bar to drink and have fun. Although the day was spent slaving away in front of the computer, that night he had a lot of fun. He talked to Seungkwan and Eva for hours, and the three of them were pretty intoxicated when they left.

The only thing he remembered from that night was the fact that Eva, being the one out of the three with the most alcohol tolerance, was the one who had made sure that all of them returned home safely.

There was just one slight problem. Eva started to avoid him. Now, in any other situation, he would not have noticed it, but the text the next morning asking him if he remembered anything from the night before had him confused. When he asked her what it was all about, she refused to answer him, opting to ignore him instead.

He had no recollection of the night before, and Seungkwan didn’t either, so it was a mystery to both of them. But then again, his gut told him the problem was bigger than what he thought it was and might come to haunt him if not solved now.

So he did the most sane thing he could think of: He asked her to talk to him about it. He knew the wedding preparations would start the minute you came back, so he wanted to make sure to fix any problem that might affect you both before it blasted out of proportion.

—

“You kissed me,” was the first thing Eva told him after sitting down, making Chan’s heart drop to his stomach.

“Huh, but I don’t remember anything,” Chan retorted.

“It’s not about you remembering or not, it really happened, Chan, and I hate it,” she said, her voice almost breaking.

“Hey, calm down. We were both intoxicated, and we didn’t do it on purpose. Any other time and we wouldn’t have done it,” this seemed to have little to no effect on improving the girl’s mood.

On the other hand, Chan’s blood pressure was rising. The last thing he needed was a big mistake from which he could never turn back. With you coming back from Germany in less than a week, he needed everything in his life to be sorted out, especially something that could jeopardize a relationship with so much love in it.

“Chan, I think I like you. I’m not sure when it happened, or how it did. But I like you. So please don’t tell me I wouldn’t have done it if we weren’t intoxicated.”

The impact of this statement was so immense that it completely shattered his world, leaving him in disarray. It was true that he liked Eva. What kind of feelings he actually held for her was a mystery to him.

So, in the spur of the moment, he kissed her.

Just a few minutes ago, it was bothering him, but once he took the step, he didn’t feel what he was supposed to. He didn’t feel the disgust and hatred towards himself he should have. It felt like sneaking out of his house when he was not supposed to. It made a rush of excitement run through his body. He could feel the adrenaline rush through him.

He felt alive. maybe it was the feeling of doing something forbidden or it was something else, he didn’t know.

But, that night, they did more than kissing.

—

Once you were back, it was all sunshine and rainbows in the first few weeks. You both were happy, spending all your time together and having fun relishing in each other’s presence.

But it didn’t take you long to notice the changes. He would be stuck late at the office but come back home surprisingly lively, or those random texts from his brother late at night asking him to come over, or even the most obvious of them all, the vibrant smell of floral perfume that you never wear.

But you held out. You had promised to give him a chance to explain himself if he came clean to you. But that day never came. You asked him about these odd behaviors, but somehow he would always evade the topic altogether.

All those questions of ‘where were you last night’, ‘when will you come home’, or ‘shall we go on a date sometime soon’, all went unanswered.

He outright ignored your presence at home. But this didn’t stop the wedding preparations. Because his siblings and your parents alike loved him, they had taken the responsibility to take care of the wedding plans.

Before he could continue with his little escapades, Seungkwan caught and confronted him. Not by you but by Seungkwan. The older boy’s disappointment was beyond words. He screamed at him for an hour straight and then he had sat Chan down and calmly said,

“Either you tell her or I will.”

“But I can’t; she will leave me if I ever tell her.”

“Then she will be right in doing so.”

“Chan, I love you to death, but either you stop this and tell your girlfriend the whole truth, or I will take matters into my own hands. She has put up with enough of your shit. Don’t hurt her more,” he had said.

“Give me some time; I will do it as soon as possible,” the younger one had strained out, fisting his hair.

“She better know about it all before the wedding,” Seungkwan had warned him before seeing himself out.

—

Chan had cut off Eva after that. He tried to change everything before actually marrying you. Then, being the kind person you are, you tried to understand your boyfriend. You really did. But this was the first time in ten years you considered leaving him.

This relationship didn’t make you happy anymore. But you had gone through so many troubles together. The effort to hold each other upright was taking a toll on you.

But you were a fighter. You had fought many battles with him by your side. You couldn’t give up on those years either. Your internal dilemma was killing you. But all of this came to a halt one day when you had come back from your night shift, only to find your boyfriend and the girl he oh so diligently claimed to be his good friend, talking in the living room.

It was not like they were trying to be quiet because you could hear every single word spoken by them.

“Chan, it’s yours.”

“Eva, I have a fiancé. I will never leave her. I already told you, I love her.”

“Oh, so you didn’t think about that before fucking me”

“It was a mistake”, Chan shouted.

“No, it wasn’t, we both were very sober”, came another shout

The conversation hit you like a truck, and with each sentence, you felt your heart shattering. The decision suddenly seemed a bit too easy to make.

You walked out of the chaos, leaving the ring behind on the shoe rack. That night, you stayed at your friend’s place.

Following that event, you called Seungkwan, informing him that you won’t talk to Chan anymore. He simply asked if you wanted any help moving out, to which you answered with a simple no.

That was the end of the relationship for you. You refused to talk or see Chan ever again.

—

Now, five years later, Chan is to be married again. Not with you; no, he missed his chance. It's with Eva. They figured the best way to raise Minhan was to be together. In a county like theirs, it wasn’t the best idea to raise a kid with two unmarried parents.

Chan loved Minhan to death. But he could never show the same love for Eva. Looking at her reminded him of the mistakes he made in life. It reminded him of the happiness he could have attained, but he lost due to his own faults.

He is happy Seungkwan is still beside him. He knows he doesn’t deserve a friend like him, so the fact that Seungkwan stayed beside him makes him feel grateful.

He knew that his wife and child would move in with him soon, but he didn’t have the courage to let them into the house yet. The house that held both your memories was a bit too precious to let go of so easily.

The next day came faster than he anticipated. As Chan stood there waiting for his bride, he saw a face that he had been longing to see for the last five years.

He saw your face, sitting there on the benches, a sad smile adorning your face. Your eyes filled with emotions and stories of the years you had spent together.

Oh, how badly Chan wanted to abandon everything and run to you. Apologize a hundred times and ask you to take him back. But he couldn’t; he had children to take care of and shoes to fill.

As he stood there saying his vows, hoping it’s you he saw walking down the aisle and it’s you he kissed, but they are called dreams for a reason. And not all dreams come true.

As he kissed his bride, he saw a glimpse of your teary eyes amongst the crowd, and a tear of his own fell. Wishing for a future he was never destined to have.

the end

[kuroashinomimi]

Shuggy fluff, huyandere art

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

Oh he was nervous. 

He was really nervous. 

How couldn’t he be when he was sitting at a table in a tavern with the red haired Shanks. Yeah, they used to be friends, they used to be attached by the hip, Buggy had probably been in love with the man his whole life by his own stubbornness fucked him up What if Shanks looked so pretty with his wide smile and fiery eyes, and what if Buggy wanted to bang his head against the table so he could get over the awkwardness of being with /Shanks/ after so many years of vowing to hate the man. 

Yeah cool, cool, he could do this. Of course he could. 

“So, Buggy.” Oh no he couldn’t, he couldn’t be here right now, not when softness was dripping from his words, when Shanks said his name so softly. “What do you want to drink? Do you still put on that face of yours when you drink something too strong.”

“HUH? NO I DON’T.” Buggy realised he’d said that way too loud and blushed in embarrassment while Shanks only laughed. “What face do you even mean?”

“You know, that one where you scrunch your face like this” He then proceeded to imitate said face and Buggy almost passed out right there because of how cute the man before him looked. 

“WHAT? I don’t do that!” Buggy protested. 

“You so do,”

“Not!!!”

“It’s okay, it makes you look so cute,” Shanks said and Buggy blushed a deep scarlet. 

To avoid any further embarrassment he did what he does best, avoid the situation so he called the barman and ordered some drinks with Shank’s warm laugh filling his mind. 

***

“HA HA HA HA HAA” Shanks’ laugh resonated all over the tavern, a few people tried to shush him but the man was too busy remembering their good old days to bother them with an answer. 

“Shut up, It’s not that funny,” Buggy said, but he couldn’t help letting out a giggle. 

They’d had a few drinks already and he could feel himself getting lighter and more at ease. He’d also caught himself leaning on the other man a few times but he leaned away before Shanks could notice. 

“He just looked so shocked at your outburst oh my god. It was priceless.” Shanks kept on laughing until he almost choked on his drink. 

Being with him like this made it all feel like they were still two kids playing pirates. It was like it was back to being Shanks and Buggy, laughing away their worries and fears. He hadn’t noticed until then how much he missed his friend, and he hated that it would all end the next day, both of them going back to their own lives. It made him wish that he’d eaten a devil fruit with time altering abilities so he could drag that night out a little bit more. 

***

Three drinks turned into five and into six and it had apparently made Shanks a sad and way too honest man. Buggy could deal with the overly flirting but this? How could he bear to see the man he loved crying over the way he’d wronged him. He hadn’t even done anything to feel bad about, if anything Buggy should be the one apologising for demonising him. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried, clinging onto Buggy. 

“What are you even sorry about?”

“I chased you away,” What?

“What do you mean, man?” He asked before trying to put Shanks in a comfortable position. “Come on you’re heavy, straighten up a bit and breathe.” Buggy was sure that the fear of seeing the man cry had sobered him up completely.

“You were there and then you weren’t and it was my fault.” Shanks' eyes were red and filled with tears, it crushed him. 

“Stoop, you’re not that.” Okay he might not have sobered up at all. “You’re nice, I left. I’m the sorry one, the one who’s sorry. The sorriest.” 

Shanks sniffed one last time and looked up to Buggy again. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Let’s have another drink, to get the sad out of you.”

***

They should have stopped drinking after the pity party because Buggy now found himself in dangerous territory. If it had been Shanks or him was a mystery, but they’d somehow closed up to one another and now Buggy could feel the way their bodies touched sitting one against the other. Shanks had stopped crying a while ago but the tears had left a glint in his eyes that made them shine even brighter. He looked so pretty looking down at Buggy in wonder, his arm holding his drink lazily. Their faces were inches away and Shanks’ lips looked tantalising from up close. He was afraid if he didn’t say anything, if he didn’t find an excuse to leave he’d end up doing something he’d regret.  

“So? Wha’ do ya think?” Shanks’ words were slurred from the alcohol, and Buggy had been so distracted by the other man’s lips that he hadn't heard a word he’d said.

“Sorry what?” Buggy asked, his eyes still fixed on Shanks’ lips. 

“I said, you look beautiful.” That made him look up, wide eyes and a blush covering his cheeks. 

“Huh?” Buggy mumbled, shocked. 

Shanks chuckled in response, then he looked at his eyes and brought his hand to Buggy’s cheek and caressed it softly. Buggy stopped breathing, he was afraid that if he made any move Shanks would stop whatever he was doing. 

“You’ve always been beautiful,” Shanks whispered before closing their lips into a kiss that was both soft and messy at the same time but that didn’t make it any less perfect. They shared into that kiss every emotion they’d hidden away all the time they’d been far from each other. It was magical and violent and beautiful. They kept kissing for god knows how long until someone shouted something at the bartender and pulled them out of the dream they were having. Shanks didn’t pull his hand away, instead he brushed Buggy’s lips with reverence. His eyes turned into a dark shade, and Buggy felt weak in the knees. He’s never seen that look in Shanks’ eyes but he found out that he didn’t mind drowning in it at least this one time. 

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Behind the nickname

Summary: Scotty as mamy nicknames from the people around her. But it seems like a pattern or an unspoken rule revolves around some of them. One particular. Ghost is about to find out the meaning of it.

Warning: None

Words: 1.3k // Masterlist

A/N: This was supposed to be a very small fic, turning into an above the 1k one. Welp. Also, although it is in my plan to visit Keukenhof (I tried this year but schedule didn't work out BUT next year for sure!) I haven't gone yet and so I was very vague on the description of it. Not helped that timeline wise they would have visited in 1997, what did the park even looked like back then?! Anyway, just a little fluff fic! Oh, Scotty's kid/baby pictures are inspired by my own.

“Auntie, what was the thing I was supposed to say if grandma was about to embarass you?” Nicolas asked as soon as his head popped in the door frame of the kitchen.

Camille lifted her head from the drawing she was making with Mathéo, rather confused. “I don’t remember, why?”

“Grandma is about to show an album to Uncle Ghost.”

“What! SHI- Mom!” Camille dropped her pen, jumped off the chair as if it was on fire, the said chair creaking loudly on the floor. The woman passed her nephew, almost shoved him out of the way in the wall. “Sorry Nic!” The two brothers looked at each other confused. 

Scotty arrived in the living room out of breath, hands crisped on the doorframe and sadly too late. Suzanne was seated with Ghost next to her, him half bent to check on the album she had placed on her and his laps. He lifted his head, a grin behind his mask. Despite being considered family, he wasn’t too comfortable yet to show more of his face. Yet she could still see the glimpse of amusement in his eyes when their gaze crossed. “A little hippie? That’s adorable.” 

“Shut it, Riley. That was for the carnaval, my mom did a great job on the costume.” Scotty rolled her eyes and joined them. She saw the picture he was commenting on. She was maybe five or six, all smiling with baggy pants and white long sleeve shirt, a too big headband on her forehead decorated with a peace sign, and a necklace with an even bigger one. In retrospective, she found herself ridiculous in this, however Ghost wasn’t so wrong, it was also adorable.

“Oh wait, this one is my favorite!” Suzanne said pointing at a picture on the next page. On this one Scotty was around the age of two, a cup of chocolate mousse in her hand and a nice little chocolate mustache on her face. “Her first time trying mousse. It was a mess to clean.”

“Mom, please!”

“Don’t be so embarrassed, tulip.” Henri chimed in from behind his newspaper. “She hasn’t shown him you naked in your first bath at least. Well, not like the young man hasn't seen you naked already.”

“Papa!” Scotty almost shrieked, face turning red.

“Henri! Pour l’amour de Dieu!” For the love of God. Her mother agreed on the boldness her husband just showed. The glare she gave him meant a thousand words. He cleared his throat and adjusted his newspaper, making himself as small as he could in the seat. Ghost was sitting there with a smile spread on his face. It was funny to see them like this. However, a little something caught his attention and the question burned his tongue. It wasn’t the first time he heard them calling her that way. Actually it seemed they were the only ones to do it. He never heard her sister or nephews use it.

“Why do you call her tulip?” He simply asked. There was a small silence. Not the awkward kind. The look Camille gave to her mom silently begged her to not tell the whole story. But the woman had none of it. She waved at her daughter to take a seat because if this man wanted to know the story behind the nickname he would have the whole story.

“It was her first word.”

*****

It has been a long road trip from their town to the Netherlands. Especially with two young kids. Luckily one of them slept almost the entire three hour ride. Gabrielle was getting restless near the end and as soon as the car stopped in the parking lot she was ready to jump out and stretch her legs. She was already working on the seatbelt keeping her restrained. Her mother was quick to tell her to wait till her dad would do it. Suzanne stretched her back, went on the other side of the car and took care of the baby who was slowly waking up from her slumber. 

Anyone would have wondered why a florist who would see flowers on the daily, work with them, arrange bouquets for all occasions five days a week would want to travel such a long distance to see flowers. Simply because Keukenhof had a reputation to have one of the best gardens of many species of plants. Although mainly known for its field of tulips, her favorite. 

It had been awhile since the whole family had been able to do something together, for once that Henri was home, Suzanne appreciated having all her loved ones together. To make it a better day, the sun was shining bright, not a single cloud in the sky. She couldn’t ask for anything better. Little Camille started to wiggle in her seat, smiling as her mother lifted her up and placed her in the scarf. The woman wrapped the rest around and secured the cloth in her back. Her daughter was facing away from her so she could see the world around them. Once everyone was ready, the family headed to the entrance eager to start their walk in the park and see what beauty it had to offer. Gabrielle held both her parents' hands, skipping happily as they walked down the path, already seeing some beautiful composition and arrangement here and there. The mix of different colors was pretty making up for very nice pictures. Henry took a few of them hoping they would turn out good once developed. He was never the best photographer in the family. 

“Mom, when do baby speak? Because all Camille does is…” She imitated the babbling her sister always did. Camille wiggled in the scarf with a small laughter. 

“It depends, but probably soon.” Her mother replied. Suzanne was stroking the baby’s cheek and Camille was more than eager to bite on her finger. Her mother’s reaction made both girls giggle. The family kept walking around till they found themselves in front of a small field of tulips. Suzanne’s favorite. 

Gabrielle went ahead to check on the small pond followed by her father who better keep an eye on her. The wind gently blew in the field, allowing some sensation of cool as the day was getting hotter. For a spring day, it was warmer than expected. Carefully, Suzanne crouched at the flowers level. Gently her fingers brushed on the soft petals. Camille whined a little from the change of position before extending her arms, trying to grab at the flowers. The woman moved her out of the scarf to be more comfortable sitting on her laps. “Carefully sweetie. They are pretty, aren’t they? These are tulips.”

“Too-pip!”

“What?” Suzanne looked at her daughter surprised. Camille repeated the word, hand reaching for the flower. It suddenly hit her that she just spoke her first word! A wide smile grew on her lips and called up her husband, happy to share the news! 

*****

“It’s Henry who then started to call her Tulip afterwards. It became our nickname for her.” Suzanne’s fingers lingered on a picture of a baby Camille sitting with a background of tulip. “Surprisingly, Camille grew to also love these flowers. Alright I think I embarrassed her enough for today.” She closed the album, put it back where it belonged, just in time when her grandkids came to ask if they could go buy some ice cream to the store. Scotty proposed herself and Ghost to take them. It would be nice to take a breath of fresh air, they could easily walk there.

As the two boys walked four steps ahead of them, Ghost leaned closer to her, his hand taking hers. 

“Too-pip uh? That's a good call sign, I like it.” He teased. 

“Don’t you even dare mention this to anyone. This is between you and me, you take this to your grave!”

“As you wish, Too-pip.” Scotty elbowed him hard in the side, but it was worth the laugh.

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

WIP Wednesday (for real this time)

First look into the next big installment of the Wedding Planner AU! It's actually entirely Kerri-centric (with background Sashnetra ofc) so it's a little different from my other fics.

CW for mentions of transphobia and brief mentions of child neglect

(also heavy theming around the US foster care system, but I'm not sure if that needs an official cw)

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

Kerri’s been watching the driveway all afternoon, waiting for the familiar State of California vehicle to pull up. She has a library book in her hands that is open, but she’s barely read a single sentence. Soon enough, her CPS worker arrived, rolling the black bag filled with other kids’ files. 

Kerri’s gotten used to this weekly routine for the past six months, coming to the understanding that she had no choice in being placed in foster care. She knew that she would be stuck in this rotted system until the day she turned eighteen, and never will be adopted. Who wanted a pre-teen that came out as trans, and then her birth parents just gave up?

The preteen waited in the bedroom that she shared with her foster brothers. She wished that she lived in the girl’s bedroom across the hall, but after her foster parents went back and forth on her situation, they decided it would be best for her to stay in the boy’s room. But she had the bed by the window, so at least she was grateful for that. 

After about twenty minutes of waiting, she heard footsteps walking down the hallway, and opened up the bedroom door without knocking. 

“You’re wanted downstairs.” Her older foster brother told her, before plopping down on his bed with an older generation of an iPhone. Kerri was pretty sure that it didn’t have service on it.

Kerri said a quiet thank you and left the book behind under the pillow. She’s had her stuff stolen before, so she couldn’t take any chances. 

She was welcomed into the living room by her foster mother and the CPS worker. She sat in her normal seat that she resides in during these weekly check-ins. Her hands busied themselves with the loose thread on the arm of the chair.

“I’ll leave you two alone, then.” Her foster mother smiled politely as she left the room. Kerri would consider her a nice lady, only if she allowed her to grow out her hair and wear girl’s clothes. 

The CPS worker started asking her all the normal questions. Is she being fed enough? Is she being treated well? Is she having any feelings of depression or anxiety? Kerri’s answers always remained the same, yes’s and no’s, and whatever short answer would get this meeting over with the fastest. 

“I’ve got some news for you. I’ve already talked to your foster mom about it, and she thinks it’s a good idea.” Her CPS worker said as she was putting away Kerri’s file back into the bag.

Kerri’s head tilted slightly in curiosity “What is it?”

Her CPS worker took a deep breath “Remember when we tried to find you a placement within your family, but they all said that they couldn’t take you in?” Kerri nodded, how could she forget? She didn’t have many relatives in the area. Her mother was an only child and her father moved from Hawai’i. Her grandparents and her mother’s cousins all said no to Kerri living with them. 

The only other family that she has even heard about was her father’s estranged brother that cut off all contact almost twenty years ago. 

“Well,” Her CPS worker continued, “You have an aunt that lives in LA, on your dad’s side. She was hard to track down, she changed both her first and last name years ago.” 

“Wait, my dad didn’t say that he had a sister.” Kerri crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “All he had was a brother that wasn’t in the family anymore and…” her voice trailed off, realizing that this could be the same person. It felt like a long shot to ask, but she had to rule out the possibility. 

Kerri swallowed her nerves “Is she like me?” she asked in a quiet voice.

The worker nodded, “She is, her name is Sasha. I haven’t tried to contact her yet, because I wanted to see how you feel about it first.” 

She did have a blood relative after all. But Sasha cut off all contact from her family, she might have not wanted to be found again. Kerri wanted to be mad, but she could understand where Sasha was coming from if that was the case. 

But this could also be her way out of the foster system, even if there was a big chance that Sasha didn’t want anything to do with her family. There was only one way to find out.

“I want you to try to contact her. I really want to meet my aunt.”

The next week that the CPS worker came to visit, she was alone. Kerri watched the car from the bedroom window for a few seconds longer than she usually did, just to make sure no one else was in the car. 

Kerri didn’t want to feel disappointed, but she couldn’t help it. She felt frustrated that a relative that she’s only known about for a week hasn’t appeared yet. Maybe her worries about Sasha were correct, this woman did not want anything to do with her family anymore, even if Kerri was just some kid that wanted to meet her aunt. 

The CPS worker didn’t mention her aunt either during the meeting. Just the same routine as every other week, some questions that Kerri’s answers never changed.

As the CPS worker put away the files, Kerri blurted out “What about my aunt? Have you tried to contact her yet?”

The worker took a steading breath before answering Kerri’s question. “I’ll be honest with you, Kerri. I did call her, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Kerri’s voice lowered slightly “Why would I get my hopes up?”

“She said that she wasn’t sure right now. She told me that she would think about it and call me back as soon as she can.” The worker explained carefully. 

“Oh.” was all Kerri could respond with. She knew that she had nothing to lose by the CPS worker contacting Sasha, but Kerri felt like she just lost the last possible connection to her family. 

Better get used to the foster system, since Kerri would be stuck in it for the next six years of her life. 

[panfluidme]

Growin' Up Wrong (Donnie's Story)

Master Post, Chapter Three

CHAPTER FOUR: THE WORST NEWS OF THEIR LIVES

Donnie coughed into his hand with a groan. His head hurt really, really (that's two reallys) bad. He tried to concentrate on what his Kindergarten teacher was saying, but he couldn't. The pain was too great.

He raised his hand, nice and tall. A little waving was required to get his teacher's attention as he was helping another student.

He walked over to Donnie and crouched down. "What's up, little man?"

"Nurse?"

Well it was true that Donnie's vocabulary had greatly improved, he was still learning how to speak properly. He was lucky that his father had gotten him a good speech therapist (after a lot of convincing from the school that Donnie would be much more successful in life if he could at least speak a little) that was very patient with him.

"You need to go to the nurse?" the teacher double checked.

"Of course. Do you need someone to go with you?"

"No."

"Alright. I do hope you feel better."

Donnie smiled weakly at him and walked to the nurse. Each step made his head hurt even more. By the time he arrived, his eyes were watering. His right eye was blurry and leaking a little.

"Nurse?" he squeaked out from in front of the desk.

"Yes, dear?"

"My head hurts. May I go home?"

The nurse leaned forward and tried to wipe away the trail of water that was going down his cheek, but he moved away. "What's your name?"

"Hamato Donatello," he said like his father had taught him to do.

She nodded and typed in her computer to get Splinter's number. She called him and told him that Donnie wasn't feeling good enough to continue the school day. Splinter informed her that he'd be there in fifteen minutes.

—

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Splinter arrived. Donnie was curled up in the nurse's bed. His body was shaking and twitching. The sight broke Splinter's heart to see.

Splinter knelt on the floor. "What's wrong, Donnie?"

"My head hurts really bad."

"I'm sorry. Let's get you home then you can lay down in your room in the dark."

Donnie nodded and rolled to look at him. He made grabby hands at him. "Carry?"

"Of course."

Splinter gently picked Donnie up and held him close. He had signed him out when he arrived at school, so he could just walk out. Donnie buried his face into his father's neck.

—

The next few days were very similar in nature. Donnie would wake up with a killer headache and flushed. It was really concerning Splinter, so he made an appointment with a doctor at the highest ranked children's hospital to see if they could figure out what was going on with him. He truly hoped it wasn't anything too serious.

The two sat in the waiting room; Donnie's face in Splinter's neck to block out the bright florescent lights. Splinter rubbed his back to help comfort him.

"Hamato Donatello?"

Splinter stood up, holding Donnie close. He followed the nurse to the back.

"So, what's wrong?"

"Donnie's been complaining that his head hurts all of the time. I've noticed that he wakes up flushed. Normally, I'd chalk it up to being the flu, but this morning, I got this gut feeling I needed to take him here."

The nurse nodded. "We'll do some blood work and an MRI. After that, he can be out a toy for being so good."

"Thank you," Splinter smiled warmly. "How long will it take for the results to come back?"

"A week at the most. With the MRI, we'll be able to get some information right away. The rest of will have to be examined further."

—

The MRI technician pointed to a green blob on the screen, circling her finger around it. "Do you know what this is?"

Splinter shook his head. "I do not."

"That is a brain tumor."

"What?" Splinter's voice was quiet.

"I'm afraid your son has cancer."

His whole world shattered. Splinter looked at his five, almost six, year old son laying down in the machine. He could tell that Donnie was scared because he was in a room with strangers and on a cold table.

This couldn't be happening, right? This had to be a dream, right?

HIs little boy was okay. HIs bright eyed little boy wasn't sick.... Right?

"Is it terminal?" Splinter asked the question that burned his mind.

"Fortunately, no. If we nip it in the bud now, he'll live a long, fulfilling life. I'll get chemo ready for him so we can start getting rid of it as soon as we can."

"Thank you." Splinter felt relief wash over him as he heard that it wasn't terminal.

"Of course. I wish you and him the best of luck."

Splinter nodded, wiping the tears that had fallen from his eyes. He had to steady himself to support his baby boy.

—

Splinter draped the purple blanket over Donnie's shoulders and turned his favorite Lou Jitsu movie. Kissing the top of Donnie's head, Splinter went across the hall to speak to Carol and Kirby.

They had every right to know what's going on with Donnie and his heath. They were his family too, after all.

He knocked on the door and waited.

April opened the door and grinned. "Uncle Splinter!"

"Hello, April. Could I speak to your parents?"

"Of course. Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Splinter needs to talk to you!"

Carol peeked her head from the kitchen and smiled. "Good evening, Splinter. What's up?"

"One second. April, why don't you go watch a movie with Donnie in my apartment?"

She nodded and ran to the Hamato's apartment.

Splinter then turned to Carol. "Is Kirby home? I need to speak to both of you."

"Yes. He'll be right out."

Splinter nodded and sat on the couch as he shut the door. Carol soon joined him, wiping her wet hands on her shirt, and they waited quietly for Kirby to come out of his office. Once he came in, he sat in his chair.

"So," Kirby said, "Splinter. What did you need?"

"I'm sure you two have noticed that Donnie's been sick recently. I decided to take him to the doctor's office, just to make sure nothing's wrong. They did an MRI and... and..." he couldn't even say it.

Kirby looked at him with a gentle and concerned expression. "And?"

"He has a brain tumor," he breathed out.

Carol and Kirby gasped. They looked at each other then back at Splinter.

"Is it terminal?" Carol questioned softly.

"At the moment, no."

"What can we do to help?" Kirby asked. He was clearly concerned and a little scared for Donnie and Splinter.

"I don't know yet, but we could always use your support."

"Of course, Splinter. You're our family, and family supports family."

Chapter Five

[undergroundarling]

Scrawny's Feelings

When I was six or seven years old, my father would pick me up every night to take me to my grandparents' apartment for dinner with his nine siblings. Dinners were always chaotic, loud crossed conversations, shouts, fights, laughter, mistreatment and complicit glances when choosing who was to be mocked that night, amidst the default background noise of any Argentine family, a soccer game or a meaningless telenovela. The sounds colluding would have made anyone want to rip their ears out. My grandmother would go back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, bringing food, sodas, napkins, etc. There was always a reason for her to get up. If she tried to sit down and eat with everyone without being interrupted, my grandfather would yell at her from his designated place to go get something, while he sat there watching tv and being immune to everything that was happening around him. I watched in silence, almost like studying them, and wondering how I could be related to them. To this day I don’t understand it. I never felt comfortable with so much movement and noise. Everynight, I tried to eat quickly to return home as soon as possible, but my dad would always say that I had to wait because he still hadn't finished. Having dinner, discussing the football game, or chatting about something trivial, then finally lighting a cigarette on the table, the wait was endless. While I waited, everyone would scold me for eating little, they used to say I was scrawny, that if I caught a cold I was going to die and that it was going to be my mother's fault. I learned to ignore them and focus on nothing itself. 

Once my dad crowned the night with a cigarette on the balcony, I would hear him say “let's go” and then begin the ritual of greeting each one of my relatives, which always took me at least fifteen minutes. My uncles’ would ignore me, my grandparents would hug me and say nice things to me, my great-grandmother would give me money on the sly and I would then head out the door. As we walked the few meters that separated the buildings where my paternal grandparents and my maternal grandparents lived, my dad used to ask me the same question every night: "Are you sad?" and I always responded by saying "no". My silence and my childish contemplative look for some reason made him believe that something bad was happening inside me. Maybe he was right  and my instinct was to say "no" but the reality is that I don't remember anything significant, which leads me to think that I simply carry hints of nostalgia on my face.

The truth is that I was always a melancholic person, even as a child, I was always missing what had already happened and trying to replicate it, or waiting for it to happen again, which obviously frustrated me. The days gone by always seemed sunnier to me, the food richer, the laughter louder, the love more intense, the smells more pleasant, and the existence more bearable. It's hard for me to enjoy the present and to appreciate what's going on around me. The few times I feel whole and at peace, no one is around to witness it. Among others, the gaze is always nostalgic, the feelings frozen, the mind gone and the words lost or vomited in badly ordered sentences. It has been this way since I can remember. Could it be that he saw this in me at such a young age? I don’t know and I don't think so. 

This memory has been lingering in my mind for the past few days. I remember spring and summer nights more than winter nights, the cool and soft wind blowing through the buildings, the green noise of the plants moving, the huge moon accompanying us on those stone paths, the red windows opened with their curtains hanging out of the frames, the neighbors sitting on the stairs and sidewalks drinking mate and chatting, as if it were three in the afternoon. I remember the smell of grass, of the flowers next to the building’s entrance. I also remember the farewell hugs with my dad, the warmth of his arms, the touch of his hands caressing my head and the smell of cigarettes in his thick dark hair. In those days, there was nothing to indicate to me that he would eventually stop asking if I was sad, or that he would also stop picking me up for dinner, or that sometimes he would pretend I wasn't real.

[midnightlazule]

{NSFW} Stripping [Ace x AFAB!reader] (Modern AU / 2023 KT)

Summary | Ace, Marco, and Thatch all are going on their weekend outing to one of the local Strip Clubs. The one they choose just so happens to be the one you work at. The problem? They don't know you work as a stripper

CW | AFAB reader / she/her pronouns / reader is a stripper / oral (reader giving and receiving) / mutual pining

"So you coming tonight or not?" Thatch playfully hit Ace on his shoulder, smirking. "And see you fail with the ladies? Sure man, I'll go" Ace laughed, giving Thatch a shit eating grin.

"Really? That's harsh, Ace, I know I'm good with the ladies... I just gotta.. loosen up first! Y'know..?" Thatch pathetically tried to save his ass, not wanting to be known as the #1 guy who's never able to get lucky on their weekend outings to the strip club.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that!" Marco called from the living room, and as much as Thatch wanted to come over and slap him atop his almost bald head, he refrained. "Are you gunna drag your little lady friend along?" Thatch asked, "you mean ___? No, why would I?" Ace asked, a strange look on his face. Thatch shrugged, "Well, y'know she's always making jokes about women and shit, figured taking her would be a good idea, let her see a few nice sets of tits, yeah?" Thatch lightly elbowed Ace, giving him a perverted look.

"You're just saying this so you can try and get into her pants, she's like.. half your age" Thatch feigned an offended gasp. "Stop trying to make me look weird, she's twenty-five, not some eighteen year old!" He huffed, rolling his eyes, "and she's not half my age, I'm only thirty-six."

"The fact that you know her age right off the top of your head is weird" Marco yelled, Ace snickered while Thatch took off one of shoes and proceeded to throw it at Marco's head. "You two have fun with your bullshit fight, I'm going to my room" he waved a quick goodbye. "Let ___ know I said hi- Ow! Hey man! Not the face-"

Ace just rolled his eyes, making his way to his room he pulled out his phone, tapping on the messages app. His eyes immediately landed on your contact, which he had nicknamed '❤️‍🔥'. Of course that's not something he'd show you, he was awful with nicknames, but having your contact labeled with just your name seemed... boring.

Not that your name was boring, he just... oh never mind, he dismissed the voice in his head.

Me > hey, r u busy?

❤️‍🔥> A little bit, yeah, why?

Me> oh well i was wondering if u wanted to come with me thatch and marco to the clbub

Me> club*

❤️‍🔥> I have work later, so I can't, sorry.

Me > all good! probably a good idea ur not going anyways thatch is being a weirdo like usual

❤️‍🔥 > No surprise there, anyways, I gotta go, see ya!

Me > by

Me > bye*

Ace sighed, setting down his phone, he always did wonder what you did for work, clearly it was something involving night shift, you were always tired during the day. He'd have to ask you about it at some point, though he vaguely remembers asking a while ago, and got a quick 'gas station a little out of town' which he thought was weird, but didn't press on.

"ACE! START GETTING READY!" Marco called, "IS ___ COMING?" He yelled out, "NO, SHE HAS WORK" Ace yelled back, he could faintly hear Thatch's 'well damn, that sucks'.

Sighing and rolling his eyes he got ready, tonight was going to be interesting.

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

You had slept in by thirty minutes, it was 7:33 PM, you had to be to work by 8:30 PM.

Grabbing everything you'd need, you shoved it into your bag, the poor worn thing was going to be needing replaced soon. "Alright.. back-up outfits.. check, makeup check.. cleansing wipes and deodorant.. check, everything else check" you zipped up your bag, setting it on your bed.

"Alright, I can still fit in a quick shower..." you were mentally calculating just how long each thing would take, snapping your fingers you got to work.

....

You were brushing your teeth when you got a text, grabbing your phone, you checked who it was.

Fireball > hey, r u busy?

You > A little bit, yeah, why?

You tried to type quickly, still having to multitask getting your teeth brushed, you looked at the clock. You still had thirty minutes.

Fireball > oh well i was wondering if u wanted to come with me thatch and marco to the clbub

Fireball > club*

Upon reading the text message, you nearly inhaled the saliva mixed with toothpaste that was sitting in your mouth. They were going to a club tonight?! You had to set down your phone, spitting out the toothpaste and washing your mouth out, you hurriedly sent back a reply.

you > I have work later, so I can't, sorry.

Fireball > all good! probably a good idea ur not going anyways thatch is being a weirdo like usual

You > No surprise there, anyways, I gotta go, see ya!

Fireball > by

Fireball > bye*

A small chuckle sounded in your throat, god was his spelling and grammar ass.

Though you felt incredibly worried. You usually didn't work Sundays, and you had no idea which club Ace and the others were going to. Though, them showing up to the club you worked at was slim, especially since there were larger, better known clubs in the surrounding area.

Deciding not to worry about it, you got back to work. Styling your hair, putting on your outfit, and double checking everything in your bag, you got ready to head out. The heels you wore clacked loudly against the wood floor, making sure to grab your coat, you slipped it on before leaving the comforts of your home.

..........

You had made it just on time, practically bursting through the back doors. The other dancers greeted you with warm faces, "glad to see you're still up and kicking, Cinnamon" Candy, one of the more popular dancers winked at you, the two of you were good friends inside of work, always hyping each other up and lending anything the other might need.

Everyone here cared for each other despite the job everyone did. Everyone knew and respected the hustle, and were always willing to help a girl out. They were your.. strange family of sorts. Though that was a weird way of putting it.

"Come on girl, you'll be up next after Foxx and Hunny" Candy ushered you inside. She smelt of her usual perfume, it was sweet but not too sweet, and it had a weird warmth to it. "Has there been any requests for me?" you asked, setting down your bag and pulling off your jacket. "No, not yet, but with that new outfit of yours.. girl!" Candy almost squealed, "you look so good! Red and orange are your colors!" she winks at you, "I'll leave ya to your makeup, good luck~!" she waved, walking off.

You did your makeup quickly, it was a simple look, it brought out your eyes at the very least.

-------

"I dunno man, we never usually hit up this spot, are you sure?" Ace looked at Marco with a questioning gaze. "For the tenth time, yes I'm sure, I had seen the place driving by and it looked nice, plus we've never been in here before, so maybe Thatch'll get lucky for once" he snickered, earning a not so light slap to the shoulder.

"You guys are assholes" Thatch pouted, casting Ace a glare for laughing right along with Marco. "Sorry, sorry" Marco snorted, putting his hand on Thatch's back, he pushed him forwards. "Get your ID's out fellas, It's time we head inside.

.....

"Come on, lets go find a table and eat before we go get front row seats" Marco winked, leading the way towards a nice booth table. It was in a darker corner of the club, the deep crimson and fuchsia lights barely touched it. "So, see anyone ya like yet?" Thatch winked, nudging Ace's shoulder.

He shook his head, looking around the place with an almost bored expression, none of the ladies here caught his eye. Sure they were all beautiful, but none really were his type. "Hey" Marco snapped his fingers in front of Ace's face, "what did you want for food? I'm sure the have the usual shit you get at the other place" he had to raise his voice a bit, as the loud, thumping music made it hard to hear.

"Just my usual if they have it, if they don't then just surprise me" Ace replied, offering a quick thanks to the blonde as he walked off. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his social media apps mindlessly.

He could hear a voice over the loud speaker announcing a new dancer coming onto stage, but paid no mind, whoever it was, they likely wouldn't catch his eye either. The sound of the audience whooped and hollered their admirations, it was loud enough to completely drown out the music.

"Holy shit..." Thatch breathed out from next to him, "Ace, you gotta look at this" he felt Thatch nudge him, "I'm not interested in whoever caught your eye, Thatch" he grumbled, "No man- just- Look!" Ace rolled his eyes and looked over, feeling his heart stop.

Ace could already hear the hurried steps of someone drawing closer, it was Marco, and he looked just as surprised to see you up on the stage. "Did you guys-" he cut himself off upon seeing Ace's wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"When the fuck did she start working here?!" Ace said rather loudly, earning a few looks from the various security that stood around the club. "She's got moves though" Thatch chuckled, already accepting of the situation. Ace however, was seething, he was angry that he was lied to, why was this something you hid from him?

"Ace, hey, buddy.. lets not do anything irrational okay? I don't want any of us getting kicked out of here tonight" Marco said, already sensing Ace's rising anger. "What'd they say her stage name was?" he asked, turning to look at Thatch. "Uhh.. Like.. I think it was Cinnamon?" he said, not entirely sure.

Pulling out his wallet, he checked the few hundreds he had, "I'll be right back" he growled, getting up from his position at the table, he ignored the shout from Marco to come back. Making his way up to the bartender, "If you're getting a drink then I'll need ID kiddo" the middle aged man said, wiping clean a glass bottle. "The lady that's up dancing, she goes by Cinnamon right?" he asked, causing the bartender to stop what he was doing.

"Yeah? Why? Ya lookin for a private show with her?" he asked, "how much are they?" Ace already started to pull out a few $100 bills. "How long are you wanting? It's a hundred every thirty minutes" Ace sighed, he'll likely be spending his whole paycheck just to get answers. "Alright, yeah, two hours, please" he said, pulling out and placing the four hundred on the bar table. "I'll let her know you requested her" he nodded, taking the money.

Making his way back to Marco and Thatch, he kept his eyes on you, watching as you swayed and danced around the pole, he was too angry to admit that you looked good. Plopping himself back down on his seat, he was met with silence from Marco and Thatch.

"Paid for a private room, I'm not going to wait until she's done" he grumbled. "Yeesh, you're really upset about this aren't you?" Thatch looked down at him, "listen man, ___ is her own being, you can't get angry with her for making money" he sighed, "besides, strippers make bank" he chuckled.

"I-I'm not even upset about the money she makes, or the fact that this is her job!" he stuttered, his anger growing by the second, "I'm upset with the fact that she's up there dancing for all these other men, did you see the way they were ogling her? Like she was some kind of.. I don't know, prize?" he groaned, frustrated. "Ace, buddy, are you jealous?" Thatch asked, "No, I just don't appreciate the way they look at her" he denied, casting another glance towards her. "You really gotta quit with all the denial stuff, Ace, it's clear that you're jealous" Marco sighed, he wasn't expecting this night to be filled with so many surprises and headaches.

Ace was horrible with handling these kinds of things, and he feared for your safety when it came to Ace blowing a fuse. He knew Ace wouldn't lay a hand on you, but that didn't stop him from saying something he didn't mean. "Ace" Marco called, "you need to calm down before you get into the private room with her, because if you don't, then you're going going to say something you'll regret, you always do when you're angry."

"No I do not-" he was cut off by the sound of heels clacking, the noise growing closer and closer. Marco could practically feel his blood run cold. Ace was on the verge of blowing up, and you'd likely be dealing with all of it as soon as you walked into that private room with him. Marco gave Thatch a glance, one he knew all too well.

If Ace hurt you, they'd both be dealing with him.

"So you're the boy who requested me-" your voice was cut off, the look of absolute horror on your face just made this situation all the worse. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?!" you whisper yelled, not at all missing the angry glare Ace was giving you right now. "We should be asking you the same thing" Ace, growled, "come on, I'm not waiting any longer" he got up from his table, and motioned for you to lead the way.

You casted Marco and Thatch a glance, you could see the apologetic look in their eyes, they never meant for this to happen. Your heart was pounding, and you felt like throwing up. Leading Ace towards one of the back private rooms, you thanked one of the security guards as they opened and closed the door behind you and Ace.

"Look Ace I can explai-"

"No, I don't need your explanations, ___" Ace sneered, "I wanna know why you hid this from me for so long, I'm your best fucking friend ___, you've trusted me with everything, so why hide this?!" he struggled to keep his voice low, not wanting to get thrown out. You looked ready to cry.

"I didn't think you needed to know what I did for work Ace! I can't just outright say 'oh yeah! I'm a stripper, I dance in front of horny men for money!' you would've reacted badly, if not worse than you are now!" you looked up at him, annoyance evident in your voice. "I would've taken it a lot better than having to figure it out like this!" his frustration was growing. "Why can't you just accept that this is what I do, Ace?" you asked, glaring up at him.

"Because I don't like the fact that other men are staring at your body!" he raised his voice, breathing heavily, "I don't like it that they get to look at your body, and not.." he sighed, "and not appreciate it" he looked away, his anger simmering down. A knock sounded at the door, "Everything's fine!" you called out hurriedly, looking back at Ace, you wiped at your face, trying to be as careful as you could as to not smear your makeup.

"Jesus fuck Ace, really? You're upset that my body is up on display?!" you whisper-yelled. "No! no, it's not that, for fucks sake, ___, are you that dense?!" he growled, turning to the side, he placed a hand over his mouth, the other on his hip.

It was your turn to get angry.

"Really?" you said, a slight offended laugh leaving your lips, "you're going to come in here and get angry with me over what I do, then call me dense for not understanding why you're angry?" you scoffed, "you know what, I'll get the bartender to give you your money back, I'm leaving"

You just about made your way to the door before Ace grabbed your arm, roughly pushing you against the large red sofa that had been left unused. Placing a hand over your mouth, he grabbed your two arms, holding them down against your thighs. "Will you listen!? I'm not angry with what you do, I'm not angry with how much fucking money you make, I'm angry with the fact that multiple other men get to look at and touch your body" he said lowly, trying to not catch the attention of the security guard standing outside the private room.

"I should be the one doing that, I should be the one seeing your body and showing it the appreciate it deserves, not doing what those assholes out there do" he watched as your face slowly changed from anger to shock, to embarrassed. "I hate the way they look at you, as if you're some object to be played with then cast aside" he sighed, "you deserve so much more than that."

Letting your hands go, he removed his hand from your face and took a few steps back. "Ace?" you called, your voice taking on a softer tone, "why didn't you tell me you felt that way?" you asked, standing up from the sofa. He didn't answer, instead, he bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. You sighed, "Ace, look at me.. please?" you raised a hand to his face, and gently turned him to face you.

He looked dejected, almost as if you had rejected him right then and there, "I wish you would've told me sooner" you smiled, a small blush coating your cheeks, "I like you too silly.." you chuckled. He blinked, taking a minute to fully realize what you had said. He finally looked you in the eyes, opening his mouth, then closing it, it was clear he was lost for words.

"Gosh.. all this fuss over hidden feelings" you sighed, "come on, lighten up, you still have an hour and a half left with me" you giggled. "Wait.." he took a step back, shaking his head. It was as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You.. How long have you-?" you looked at him, wondering why your words were so confusing to him. Rolling your eyes, you took his face into your hands and stood on your toes, placing your lips against his.

It was like the gears started to turn in his brain, finally snapping out of his stupor, he ran one of his hands through your hair, tangling his fingers between the fine strands, he pulled you back. A small whine left your lips, and he felt heat travel down to his groin. "Do that again" he breathed, looking down at you with lidded eyes, he tugged on your hair again, this time a little harsher. The second whine that left your lips cause a rumble to sound in his throat, "you know fucking a stripper in the private rooms is against the rules right?" you snickered, enjoying the stinging pain Ace was giving you by tugging on your hair.

"You think I care? I've been waiting years for this" he growled, "besides, I'm not going to give you the pleasure of fucking you right now" he released your hair, "sit down." You obeyed him, feeling that rush of excitement run through your veins, of course you knew this wasn't the best idea, but did you care? Not really. You and Ace could talk about it later, right now you just wanted him.

You watched with a lidded gaze as he un-did his belt, "you're going to be a good girl and suck me off, quietly" he emphasized 'quietly'. You couldn't help but smirk, the only person who would have to be quiet was him. Watching as fully removed his pants, he pulled off his boxers, allowing his cock to spring out. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous, he looked insanely good, but he was girthy. Enough to the point your throat would likely be sore.

He was a good six inches in length, with a wider base and a strong vein along the underside of his shaft. Licking your lips, you watched him with unblinking eyes as you grabbed his hips and forced him forwards. Wrapping your lips around his tip, you felt his hips stutter forwards from the sudden warmth, smirking, you ran your tongue over his slit. "F-fuck" he groaned quietly, placing a hand on the back of your head.

Pushing him further down your throat, you must've surprised him by the way you took him all the way up to his base, noise nestling against his pubic hairs. It was hard trying not to choke, you could feel tears building up, your makeup will likely be ruined by the end of this. "That's it" he breathed, quickly removing his shirt, he could now watch you without that pesky thing in the way.

You felt one of his hands rub the side of your head, fingers running through your strands of hair before tangling themselves once again. You removed your hands from his hips, setting them down onto your lap. With his cock still in your throat, Ace wasted no time at all as he began to face fuck you, thrusting in and out rather harshly. You hoped the wet sounds and the nearly too loud noises of Ace groaning weren't enough to alert the security guard outside.

Tears started to stream down your face, smudging and messing up your makeup, you'd no doubt look absolutely wrecked after he was done. "Look at you.." he groaned, placing his free hand against the wall for support. "Fuck, I should've opened up about my feelings to you sooner" he tilted his head back, eyebrows furrowed, "best fucking view I've ever gotten" he shuddered.

His thrusts were beginning to lose their rhythm, gagging as he forced himself a bit deeper, your nose was hitting his base with each and every buck of his hips. "C-come on.. almost there" he panted, his body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Another deep groan left his lips, hunching over he pressed himself into you as he came down your throat, his body giving one last shudder before he nearly collapsed on top of you. You struggled to swallow everything, trying to catch your breath as he pulled out of your throat.

"God you look horrible" he couldn't help but chuckle, giving him a firm slap on this thigh, you laid back on the sofa. "How much time do I have left?" he asked, looking down at you. "Like.. forty-five minutes?" your voice sounded strained. "Why..?" you asked.

Getting down on his knees, he placed himself in between your legs, "it's only fair I return the favor right?" he placed a kiss on your inner thigh, "we're not going to have enough time- Ace!" you squealed, feeling his hand press against your clothed cunt. "Oh come on, it's not fair of me to use your mouth to get off then give nothing in return... besides, I wanna know how you taste" he winked, trailing his hands up your thighs, he made his way up towards the straps of your thong.

"If we get caught then you'll be banned and I'll be fired" you whisper-yelled, he rolled his eyes. "You weren't afraid of getting caught earlier when I had my cock down your throat" he tapped your hips, wanting you to lift them so he could remove your thong. "That- That's besides the point!" you hissed.

Despite the fact that you were against this, solely because of the fear of getting caught, you raised your hips anyways. "You better find me a damn good job if I get fired" you growled, "yeah yeah don't worry, there's a bigger likely better paying strip club on the other side of town, I'm sure they'd hire you" he groaned, seeing how wet you were.

"Thought you didn't like me working as a stripper" you muttered, he gave you a look, "that place is a whole lot better than this shit-hole, besides, I know that the women are kept completely safe, plus... I'd be able to watch you every weekend" he winked, you were about to say something before he dove in, tongue pressing against your soaking lips before dragging it up in a firm line.

You had to cover your mouth, eyes fluttering closed from the feeling of his tongue on you, your legs closed around his head. As much as he loved being crushed by your thighs, he wanted to be able to hear your sweet sweet noises, wrapping his arms around your thighs, he held them open. Another long, drawn out whine sounded from you, hands trailing down, you tangled your fingers into his soft, black hair, tugging at it as he ate you out.

"God, you taste so good... y'know that?" he breathed against you, tongue licking at your juices that coated his chin. Releasing one of your thighs, he brought his hand down, running two fingers over your cunt, before pushing them into your hole. "Be a good girl and keep quiet, yeah?" he smirked.

You could feel your abdomen tightening as the coil in your core got closer and closer to snapping, the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you, right against that spongey spot had you seeing stars. You however, weren't prepared for the feeling of his mouth against your clit, tongue pressing and twirling over it. You nearly screamed, having to bite down on your arm in order to keep quiet, you heaved, body shaking with the promise of an orgasm.

"That's it" Ace spoke against you, watching you while he ran his tongue over your clit and fingered you. With one perfect flick of his tongue against you, your vision went white. Ace watched as you arched against the sofa, feeling the way you clamped around his fingers and shuddered against him. The way you completely came undone was indescribably hot to him, he wanted to see the way you'd look cumming around his cock, god he really did wish the both of you were in his room.

You came down from your high, breathing heavily and shaking. Removing his fingers from you, he licked them clean and groaned, you really did taste good. Standing up, he wobbled a little from being on his knees for so long, grabbing and putting on his pants, he watched you with a grin. "Need some help?" he asked, kneeling down to grab your thong off the floor.

"No.. no I got it" you breathed, slowly getting up. There was a noticeable wet spot on the sofa, but it didn't matter, these things got covered in various fluids all the time, if they asked, you'll just tell them a lie.

Taking your thong from Ace, you put it on, having to hold onto him for a bit of support, since your legs were still shaking. A knock sounded on the door, "ten minutes left" a voice called, "alright" you said, trying to keep your voice from sounding too shaky.

Fixing up your hair, you motioned for Ace to pull out his phone, "I need to check my makeup" you motioned for him to hurry, he just stood there and smiled at you like a dumbass. "It's completely ruined, I don't think it's really capable of being saved" he chuckled, pulling out his phone anyways to show you.

A few curses left your lips, how would you explain this to the girls and management? Oh well, you'd just have to make up something on the spot and hope that they'd believe you.

Which they likely wont.

Hasta la vista Pink Nights Strip Club.

At least you wouldn't miss the man who ran this place, probably the one downside of working here. He was creepy, always had a large smile on his face, along with wearing strangely shaped pink sunglasses.. Who wears sunglasses indoors?

You used spit and some conveniently placed tissues to wipe some of the makeup away, most of it smudged, making it look like sweat was the main reason why it was so ruined.

The door unlocked and opened, you waved a quick goodbye to Ace and left, heading back to the dressing rooms.

.....

Ace watched you leave, the security guard gave him nothing but a deep frown as he escorted him out of the room and back out to the main area of the club. He spotted Marco and Thatch still sitting at the table, they looked like they had loosened up a little.

Taking a seat, the two men looked at him "what's with the grin?" Marco asked, squinting at him. "What do you mean?" Ace questioned, "what do you mean 'what do you mean' you come back to the table smiling like an idiot.. what happened?" Thatch said, "did you and ___ work it all out?"

"I suppose you could say that" Ace grinned, "did you fuck her?!" Thatch said rather loudly, covering his mouth quickly, he accepted the harsh nudge Ace gave him. "No you dimwit! Well- sort of.. not really, we just.." he trailed off, thinking back to all the faces you were making, "it's none of your guys' business" he scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking away.

"Oh they definitely did something" Marco snickered, though his smile faded when he saw at least three security guards approach the table. They grabbed Ace and hauled him to the door.

"Oh that fucking idiot" Marco sighed, "I'm sure we'll be seeing ___ soon enough as well" Thatch got up from the table, throwing a tip on the table. "Come on, better give him a ride home" the two left, seeing Ace standing outside with a smile on his face, "are you... proud of yourself? Really?" Marco scoffed, "you're lucky this isn't the usual joint we go to" he walked past Ace, pulling out his keys.

"Speaking of that joint, aren't you on good terms with the owner?" Ace asked Marco, "Shanks? Yeah, we're on good terms, why?" Marco gave a questioning look as he unlocked the car, "just asking incase ___ gets fired."

Marco gave Ace a look, one of pure disappointment. "You got her fired?" he frowned, "well, I mean, I don't know, maybe?" he shrugged, "she'd do better at the usual place we go to anyways..." he muttered.

Shaking his head, Marco said nothing as he started the car.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you leaving the building, jacket on and belongings all stuffed into a large pink duffel bag.

"For fucks sake" Thatch laughed, "you really are an asshole Ace" he watched as you approached the car, a smile on your face. 

[soulmate-game]

Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part i

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: pseudocest, stepcest, cheating, wombfucking, semi-public sex (in an alley), extremely light dumbification, breeding kink, spit kink, Osamu has a dick piercing

4.5k words. thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this and reassuring me that it doesn’t suck lol

ao3 link here (aha its not too long mobile just sucks!!) part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You sighed as you tapped your fingers on the table. Your mom had decided it was high time for you to meet your new stepdad, who you had put off meeting for the past three years. You smiled as you remembered the perfectly timed appendicitis that had you missing the wedding. You couldn’t have planned it better if you tried. 

Your dad had only passed away a little under four years ago, leaving your mom to remarry only six months later. You’d opted to live with your grandmother, citing her health as a reason to live with her on her farm. Your plan had worked perfectly, and you hadn’t had to meet Osamu for three years.

Now though, with your grandmother in the hospital, your mom thought it was a great time for you to come and visit and finally meet the great Osamu.

“Osamu should be home any minute,” your mom said, smiling happily over the takoyaki she was making. “He’s bringing your favourite!”

“Yay,” you said, unenthusiastically. You glanced at the time on your phone. You were almost wishing Osamu to be here so you wouldn’t have to spend another awkward second with your mom.

You and your mom hadn’t been close to begin with, you always being a daddy’s girl from the day you were born. And after remarrying so quickly, you’d drifted even further apart. At this point, you had nothing to speak to her about.

“I’m home!” Someone called. The door slid shut behind them and you glanced around, waiting for them to appear in the kitchen. “And I brought umeboshi onigiri!”

The man who stepped into the kitchen nearly knocked you out of your seat.

He was handsome. Devastatingly, heartachingly, handsome. He was tall, with brown hair and deep grey eyes, and thick. His t-shirt was pulled taut over his broad shoulders and his thighs in his shorts were almost indecent. 

The next thing you noticed was that he was young. Probably only a handful of years older than your twenty-one, definitely closer to your age than your mom’s.

God, why had you put this meeting off? Had you known your mom was married to an actual god, you would’ve actually visited.

“Hey, honey,” your mom greeted, smiling at him. Your stomach twisted as she leaned over, puckering her lips for a kiss. Osamu pecked her lips quickly and turned towards you.

“Hey, I’m Osamu,” he greeted, smiling widely at you. Your heart skipped. “I heard ya like umeboshi onigiri so I made you some.”

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet ya,” Osamu said. “Was starting to think ya were avoiding me!”

“More like she was avoiding me,” your mom said. “She was always a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh?” Osamu asked, looking at you. Your cheeks burned. “Well, I’d never try to replace yer dad, but if ya ever need some daddy/daughter time, I’m here for ya.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid. 

“I really appreciate that,” you said. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are getting along already!” Your mom squealed. She carried the takoyaki to the table and smiled as she sat down. “Dinner is finally ready.”

“Itadakimasu,” you mumbled, already loading your plate up with onigiri and the other food on the table. 

“So, how is university going?” Your mom asked. 

You shrugged as you slurped up some noodles. “It’s going. Made nationals.”

“Oh? What sport do ya play? I don’t think yer mom ever mentioned,” Osamu said. You rolled your eyes. Of course she hadn’t mentioned volleyball, it wasn’t like you’d been playing since elementary school or anything.

“Volleyball,” you said. “I was on the Niiyama girls team in high school. Hoping to go pro after uni.”

“Volleyball? I played in high school! My brother, Atsumu, and I were on the Inarizaki team,” Osamu exclaimed. 

“Not Miya Atsumu, right?” You asked, excitedly. “MSBY Black Jackals Miya Atsumu?”

“The very one!” Osamu said.

“No way! They’re my favourite team! I have a signed poster in my room, it’s my prized possession!” I exclaimed. “I heard a few members are going to the Olympics this year.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she plays volleyball,” Osamu said, glancing at your mom.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” your mom said.

“We should go to a game sometimes,” Osamu said. “I can get an extra ticket to the MSBY, Adlers game later this week.”

“That sounds great!” You said, smiling widely.

Your mom ate in relative silence as you and Osamu traded stories about your volleyball times, only ever inputting something every once in a while. After dinner, Osamu found a Sendai Frogs match. 

“I’m currently in the nation’s top 3 setters,” you said, proudly. “I’m number two behind Takao Michi.”

“I’ll have to start coming to yer games,” Osamu said. “See ya in action.”

“I’d like that,” you said, honestly. 

“Why don’t ya come to work with me tomorrow? I can introduce ya to a few of my friends that are in town,” Osamu said.

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Don’t get me wrong though, I’m putting ya to work while yer there,” Osamu said. Your mom yawned.

“You all have me worn out from all this volleyball talk,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Night, mom,” you said as she stood up.

“Osamu?” She questioned, turning back to glance at him.

“Oh, we’re going to stay up a bit longer,” he said. “The Schweinden Adlers have a match after the Frogs.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. You could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Osamu waited until you heard the bedroom door click shut before speaking.

“I know this is probably too much information about yer mom but she must think I’m some sex robot,” Osamu said, huffing. “A guy can only do so much.”

You crinkled your nose. “Gross, I did not need to know that.” You tried to hold steady but laughter bubbled up through your lips. Osamu laughed loudly and you joined him, holding your gut with how hard you were laughing.

“We need- we need to be- to be quiet!” Osamu laughed. “She’s trying to- tryin’ to sleep.”

You giggled a few more times before quieting down.

“So, how old are ya?” Osamu asked, standing up. “Old enough for a beer?”

“I’m twenty-one,” you said. “Old enough for a beer.”

“We got wine coolers if ya would rather have that,” Osamu said, stepping into the kitchen.

“Please,” you said. “So, how old are you? Can’t help but notice you’re quite a bit younger than my mom.”

“Twenty-five, twenty-six in October,” he said, grabbing a beer and a wine cooler out of the fridge.

“Follow up question,” you said, “and I don’t mean any offence, I’m sure she’s great in some ways, but why my mom? I mean, surely there’s no shortage of people your age that are wanting you.”

Osamu took a long drink from his beer before answering. “Ask me after I’ve drunk a few of these.”

You pursed your lips and took a sip of your fruity drink. “Fine,” you said. “Then let’s play a game. Every time the Adlers score, I’ll ask you a question and every time the Tachibana Red Falcons score, you get to ask me a question.”

“Deal,” Osamu said.

“Oh! Score!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Another untouchable spike by Ushiwaka!”

“Shush, yer mom,” Osamu giggled. You rolled your eyes and chugged the rest of your fifth drink.

“You shush, it’s my turn,” you said, plopping down on the couch next to Osamu. “So, now tell me,” You hiccupped. “My bad. Now tell me, why my mom? Why not someone your age? Because I’m gonna- I’m gonna be honest, you’re hot and my mom is, like, she’s not, like, ugly, but, like, she’s, like, fifty.”

“I could just like cougars,” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes and popped the top on your next drink.

“Tell the, the truth, ‘Samu,” you slurred. 

“Fine, but this stays between us, as best friends,” he said.

“Bee ef efs,” you slurred.

“Yer mom helped fund my restaurant,” he said. “So, I felt bad. She’s so nice and sweet. So, I married her.”

“Now you have a step kid that’s only four years younger than you,” you said. 

“Yeah, she didn’t really mention ya before we got married,” he said. Osamu leaned in close to you. “She didn’t mention how attractive ya were either.”

Your cheeks flushed. You turned your head away from him, looking back to the television.

“Oh, Falcons scored,” you said. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

Osamu took a sip of his beer before speaking. “Why have ya been avoidin’ yer mom?”

You took a large gulp from your drink. “I haven’t been avoiding her,” you lied. Osamu blinked at you slowly. 

“Fine, fine!” You exclaimed. You sipped from your drink, then responded, “Mainly because she remarried so quickly after Dad died. And to someone only four years older than me. But we’ve never been close. She and I never really saw eye-to-eye. She was the love of my dad’s life and he was just another guy to her. Not to mention, she’s never been remotely interested in anything in my life, she’s always been so self-absorbed. I doubt she even knew I still played volleyball, that’s probably why she didn’t mention it to you.”

Osamu stayed silent as you chugged the remainder of your drink.

“I know it’s probably not comforting, but I’ll be there for ya if ya need me,” Osamu said. “Even if yer mom and I separate, I consider ya a friend now.”

Osamu’s words were oddly comforting. You nodded as you reached for yet another wine cooler. 

“I’m oddly comforted,” you said, popping the top easily. You fiddled with the top, thinking of what to say next.

“Another Falcons score,” Osamu said. “My turn again.”

“Question away,” you said. 

“Can’t think of any,” Osamu said. He yawned.

“Tired already?” You teased, elbowing him in the side. “Old man.”

“I’m twenty-five,” he argued, yawning again. “But I am going to bed. Let’s call a rain check on our game.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your bottle to him. “Might as well go to bed, too. Night, Samu.”

“Night, Y/n,” Osamu said, standing up. He stretched out before padding down the hallway to your mom’s room. 

You sighed loudly once you heard the door click shut. You gulped down your drink. “Good going, Y/n. You finally found a guy you like and he’s your stepdad.”

You finished your drink before gathering all the empty bottles and cans, throwing them in the recycling before walking towards your room. You collapsed onto your unmade bed and passed out before your head hit the pillow. 

“Two salted salmon onigiri,” you said, placing the plate in front of the professional volleyball player. “And onion soup.”

“Go ahead and join them,” Osamu said, placing a few plates on the same table. “I’ll bring you out some umeboshi onigiri.”

“Thanks,” you said. You could barely contain your excitement as you took a seat between Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou.

“So, yer a setter?” Atsumu asked, taking a bite of his onigiri. You nodded.

“Number two in the nation,” you said.

“She’s better than you were, Tsumu!” Hinata Shoyo exclaimed. You smiled widely.

“In high school, I was ranked number one under nineteen in my second and third years,” you said. “I even got to play in the junior Olympics in high school. We only won silver, though.”

“We’re playing the Olympics this year,” Bokuto said. “And a few of our friends from the Adlers.”

“Kageyama Tobio, Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Hoshimiumi Kourai?” You asked. “I’ve been keeping up with everyone considered for the Olympics.”

“Maybe you’ll be playing in the next Olympics,” Sakusa said. 

“That’s the goal,” you said, smiling. Osamu set a plate in front of you. “Thank you.”

“So our little star setter is here for the next week,” Osamu said, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. “We should play a game while she’s down, see how good she really is.”

“I’m game!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I wanna see those number two in the nation skills!”

“Probably nowhere near the level of you guys,” you said.

“We do have a few years on ya,” Atsumu said, ruffling your hair. 

“Literally only four,” you said, fixing your hair.

“Leave the kid alone, Tsumu,” Osamu said.

“Hey, she’s my niece now, I reserve the right to tease her,” Atsumu said.

“Uncle Tsumu,” you teased.

“That’s right, Uncle Tsumu and Daddy Samu,” Atsumu said. 

Your stomach flipped as the MSBY boys laughed. Osamu looked down at you and winked. You clenched your thighs together.

“All right, quiet down before ya disturb my payin’ guests,” Osamu said. 

“Lunch on Samu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed. Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Once yer finished, I want ya back in the kitchen,” Osamu said. He rubbed your back before walking into the kitchen.

“So, you plan on going professional after university?” Bokuto asked.

You nodded as the table fell into casual conversation.

“I already have offers to go play in France and Brazil,” you said, taking a bite of your onigiri.

“Brazil is fantastic,” Hinata said. “I played there for a while.”

“You liked it? I’ve been debating back and forth between the two. Can’t decide which one I would enjoy more,” you said. “Does Brazil have good food?”

“The best! Unless you’re looking for Japanese food,” Hinata said. “There’s no good Japanese food.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling.

“What are you studying in school?” Sakusa asked.

“Education,” you said. “If volleyball doesn’t work out I want to teach Japanese in another country.”

“Smart,” Sakusa said.

“So, any boyfriends? Girlfriends? Significant others?” Atsumu asked.

You laughed. “With what time?”

“Oh, come on, there has to be someone!” Atsumu exclaimed. “We all find time for a lil’ somethin’.”

“There was a girl,” you admitted. “On my volleyball team, but we both cared more about volleyball than each other.”

“Any crushes?” Bokuto asked. He winked at you and flexed his arms playfully.

You pursed your lips. “And why should I tell you if I do?”

“Because we’re all best friends now!” Hinata shouted, slamming his hand on the table. He ignored the looks from the other customers.

“There is this guy I have my eye on,” you said. “He’s tall, nice, and beefy as hell.”

“Ooo, tell us more,” Bokuto said.

You shook your head. “No use talking about him. He’s strictly off limits.”

“He’s gay,” Atsumu said, nodding his head.

“What?! No!” You laughed. “He’s taken.”

“Ah, university relationships aren’t always serious, you can probably still get him,” Hinata said, waving away your worries.

“He’s married,” you said. The boys all hissed in sympathy.

“Ask for a threesome,” Atsumu said. Your face must’ve shown your disgust because the boys all laughed at you.

“She must be ugly,” Bokuto said.

“We don’t get along the best,” you said. You sighed as you looked down at your empty plate.

“Better get to work before Daddy Samu grounds you,” Atsumu teased.

You rolled your eyes, but stood up. 

“It was nice meeting you guys,” you said. “I hope we can get a game together before I leave.”

“Oh, we definitely will,” Bokuto said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said, smiling. You waved bye to them as you entered the kitchen.

Osamu was leaned over the stove top, stirring a large pot of soup.

“Have fun?” He asked, wiping sweat off his brow with the towel thrown over his shoulder. You nodded.

“They were all super nice,” you said. “I feel like we’re actually friends now.”

“That’s good,” Osamu said, smiling at you. “Ya wanna start putting together a couple of onigiri?”

“No problem,” you said, washing your hands quickly. 

“We need five salted salmon and three umeboshi,” Osamu said. “And then out to table three.”

“Got it,” you said.

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly and smoothly. It was finally around midnight when the last customers finally left and you and Osamu could close down shop.

“Come into my office and I’ll show you how to count all the money,” Osamu said, locking the main doors. 

You followed him into his small office. 

“Okay, whenever you count the money, make sure the door is closed and locked behind you,” Osamu said, closing the door behind him. 

You held your breath as he slowly slid past you, your chest brushing against his.

“A lil’ cramped in here, sorry,” Osamu said, sitting at his desk.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, sitting in the folding chair next to him.

“So, d’ya have a good day?” Osamu asked, casually thumbing through bills.

You nodded. “It was good! It was nice meeting your friends. I really liked them.”

“Ooo, any of ‘em catch yer eye?” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes.

“I already have my eye on someone,” you said.

“Oh?” Osamu questioned.

“He’s taken though,” you said. “Strictly off limits.”

“Ask for a threesome,” he said.

You laughed loudly. “Funny, Atsumu said the same thing. But no, I don’t get along with his wife.”

“Wife? That sucks,” he said, placing a wad of cash in an envelope. 

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Well, I, for one, think yer a catch,” Osamu said, sealing the envelope. “Anyone would be lucky to have ya.”

“Thanks, Samu,” you said, face burning. He patted your thigh.

“Anytime, princess,” Osamu said. You clenched your thighs together at the new nickname. “Well, we’re all done here, let’s get home.”

You trailed after him like a lost puppy as he double checked all the appliances were off and flipping the lights off.

You shivered as you stepped into the cool, night air. 

“Cold?” Osamu asked, already peeling off his Onigiri Miya hoodie.

“Yeah, a little,” you said, gladly taking the hoodie from him. You tugged it over your head and breathed deeply. “Smells good. Half expected it to smell like onigiri.”

“It will soon,” Osamu said, smiling. “It’s new. Just got the shipment in last week.”

“I’ll have to get one,” you said.

“Keep it,” Osamu said. “Ya look cute in it.”

You blushed deeply. You bumped his shoulder with yours gently.

“It’s like, way too big,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “Oversized is in. Besides, I thought girls loved to steal guys’ hoodies.”

“Yeah, guys they like,” you said.

“Well, ya took it from me,” Osamu said, bumping your shoulder. “Ya must like me a little.”

“Whatever,” you said, cheeks burning. Osamu laughed.

“Someone has a crush!” He sang.

“Shut up! I don’t have a crush on you,” you said.

“Ya did call me hot last night,” he said.

“I was drunk, so it doesn’t count,” you said. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously.

“Ya have a crush on me, just admit it,” Osamu said. “I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise.”

“You’re my stepdad, in case you forgot,” you replied. “That’s basically incest, isn’t it?”

“So ya admit it?” Osamu asked. You shoved him playfully.

“I actually have a crush on Atsumu,” you said. “He’s the hotter twin.”

Osamu pushed you into an alley and caged you against the cool bricks of a building.

“Oh?” Osamu said. “Ya think Atsumu is the hotter twin?”

You nodded slowly as Osamu looked down at you.

“It’s the hair,” you squeaked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot that girls love a guy who doesn’t know what toner is,” Osamu said, leaning down. “I think yer lying.” His nose was nearly touching yours.

“I’m not,” you mumbled. Osamu’s hands moved from either side of your head to your hips. 

“You are,” Osamu whispered, lips brushing against your ear. You shivered.

“And if I am?” You asked.

“I don’t like bad girls,” Osamu said. “Lying is grounds for punishment.”

“Punishment?” You asked.

“I’d bend ya over my knee and spank ya until ya begged for mercy,” he said. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,” you said. By now, Osamu’s lips were nearly against yours, so close you could feel the heat from his breath on your lips.

Osamu ground his hips against yours, firmly pressing his hard on against you.

You bit your lip and glanced down. His cock was straining against his jeans, eager to be released.

“Tell the truth and I’ll think about not putting ya over my knee,” Osamu said, lips softly brushing against yours. 

“You’re the hotter twin,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. “And I have a crush on you. And I want you to fuck me in this alley.”

“There we go,” Osamu said. He finally kissed you roughly, like he wanted to devour you. You moaned as he ground against you.

“Samu,” you moaned, pulling back. He wasted no time, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Been thinkin’ about pushin’ this lil’ skirt up all day,” he growled, pushing your skirt up around your waist, revealing the pretty pink lace of your underwear. 

“Please,” you gasped as he shoved his jeans and underwear down, releasing his cock. You nearly moaned at the sight of it, long and thick and leaking precum from the swollen tip.

“Gonna wreck this cute little cunt,” Osamu said, tugging your underwear down and letting them fall to the ground. He dragged the tip of his cock through your wet folds, teasing your clit and hole.

“Is- Is that a piercing I feel?” You asked, feeling cool metal against your warm folds.

“I’ll give ya a closer look later,” he said, teasingly pushing the tip in and out of your hole. “Wanna be in ya now.”

“Fill me up, please, Samu,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his skin. Your walls fluttered around nothing as he lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” he muttered, lining his cock up with your hole. “Beg for my cock, princess.”

“Please, please, please!” You cried. “Want your cock in me, need it! Please, Samu, want you to fill me up.”

“Of course, baby girl, anything for my princess,” Osamu said, kissing you softly. He rutted his hips up into you, stretching you out suddenly.

You moaned loudly and let your head fall on Osamu's broad shoulder. 

“So big,” you moaned. “Hurts.”

“Shh, shh, yer takin’ me so well, baby,” Osamu said. “Squeezin’ me so tight, wanna bust just bein’ in ya.”

You whimpered as Osamu slowly pulled out. He pushed back in slowly, giving you time to adjust to each inch. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until the swollen tip was kissing your cervix.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna ruin ya.” Osamu pulled out until just the tip was in and slammed back into you.

You gasped loudly as his cock breached your cervix, going deeper than anything had ever been in you and stretching you more than anything ever had.

“Samu!” You cried, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the nape of his neck. “Fuck, harder, please!”

“Feel that, baby? I’m so deep in ya,” Osamu said. “Fuckin’ past your cervix, yeah?”

You nodded as you bit back your moans as Osamu pounded into you. You buried your head into his shoulder and bit down, quieting your too loud moans.

“Next time, ‘m gonna have ya somewhere ya can be loud as ya want,” Osamu grunted. “Wanna hear yer pretty, little moans.”

You let out a soft moan in his ear and he snapped his hips up harder into you.

“Ah, Samu,” you moaned, struggling to keep your volume down. “Gonna cum.”

He pinched your clit as you gushed around his cock. You looked down to where your bodies met and watched as your juices leaked down his cock, dripping on his heavy balls. You moaned.

“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” he growled lowly. “Come ‘ere.”

He pulled your head up by your hair and squeezed your cheeks until your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out. He gathered spit in his mouth and spat it on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he said. He kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth and sucking your tongue. He kissed you messily, spit running down your chin and a thin strand of it connecting you two when he finally pulled back. 

“Such a messy, little slut,” he said, slamming his hips against yours. “Taking my spit so well. Gonna take my cum like that?”

You nodded, unable to speak beyond gasps and moans as his cock abused your cunt.

“Can’t speak? Fucked ya dumb, huh?” Osamu asked. He chuckled. “My cock makin’ ya dumb, little baby?”

You whined. God, you wanted him to fill you up so bad. 

“Cum. Inside.” You gasped out.

“Oh? Want me t’ breed ya? Make ya big and swollen with my baby?” Osamu asked, hips moving faster.

You nodded furiously. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles.

“Cream ‘round my cock one more time, baby,” he grunted. 

“Samu!” You exclaimed. Your stomach tightened as your walls fluttered like crazy.

“Yeah? Gonna cum again for me?” Osamu asked. You let out a high pitched moan as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“Fill me up, please!” You moaned as you came. Osamu’s hips stuttered as he pushed into you deeply before painting your womb white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned.

“Fuck, yer still so tight around my cock,” he hissed. Your walls fluttered. “Perfect little cunt, princess. Milkin’ me dry like a good girl.”

You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist.

“Can’t stand,” you mumbled, legs shaking with the weak attempt you made. Osamu held you up as he pulled his pants back up and pulled your panties back on.

“Come here, baby,” he said, swooping you up bridal style. “Let’s go home, princess.”

You nodded lamely as he carried you. You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you heard was Osamu talking to your mother.

“She was practically dead on her feet,” Osamu said. “Fell asleep while I was counting the money.”

“You could’ve called, I would’ve brought the car,” your mom said. You felt Osamu shrug.

“It was no problem,” Osamu said. 

“Well, go lay her down in her bed,” your mom said. “Then maybe she’ll be out for the rest of the night.” You frowned at her suggestive tone and cuddled deeper into Osamu’s chest.

“I’ll go lay her down,” Osamu said. He carried you down the hall and entered your bedroom carefully.

As he laid you down, you grabbed his arm and whined, “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I gotta go to my own bed.”

“Don’t- Don’t fuck her,” you mumbled. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, softly brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s only you from now on.” You nodded. Osamu kissed your forehead before leaving you alone.

You blinked once, twice, before you were asleep.

[lokiswifeduh]

Forever and Eternity

Pairings: Natasha x fem!mutant!agent!reader, Bucky x reader(platonic), dark!Wanda x reader(platonic), dark!Wanda x Vision.

Word count: 2347

Summary: After the final fight against Thanos, you get a surprise call from Monica Rambeau, calling you in on a case. But who knew accepting it would lead you to see the love of your life, who had sacrificed herself for you only months before.

Warnings: Mind control, mentions of death, reader has powers, language, mentions of endgame(yes, this is a warning), manipulation, angst, some fluff, I think that's it, if not, let me know.

A/N: Hi! This is my first fic on here so please don't judge if it's bad. This idea came to my mind after watching Wandavision for the millionth time.

"Where are you going?" Bucky questioned, seeing you dressed in your uniform for the first time in almost six years. You sighed, "I got a call. Monica needed me to come in, it's apparently urgent."

Bucky nodded, listening as he slowly got up from the couch in your apartment. "And you are all good? Your okay to do this?" You bobbed your head up and down, confirming you were. "I need to get out at some point and..." You took a deep breath, taking a minute from gathering your gear. "If I don't do this now then I'll be sulking the rest of my life."

He seemed to understand, silently walking over and giving you a hug. Bucky had been living with you ever since the battle with Thanos ended. Of course, you had known him far before that but you two were the only ones still living in New York. You handn't gotten blipped, meaning you got to spend the six years, not in complete agony, Nat was there.

But Bucky hadn't been, and when he came to see you completely in despair over Natasha's sacrifice, he vowed to stay by your side.

And while he and Sam were so-called "co-workers"; Sam needed to spend some time with his sister and get to know his nephews. So you took Bucky in, allowing him a place to stay while he attended his court-mandated therapy. Plus, it wasn't bad having someone around since Natasha had passed. You didn't mind.

"She'd be proud of you," Bucky murmured into your hair, making you burrow your head into his chest even more. "Really?"

You could feel him nod, "You're getting back out there. Of course, she would be." You pulled away, wiping the stray tears that had fallen. "Okay.." Picking up your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and walked to the door. "Oh and doll?" You looked back to Bucky, "Hmm?"

"Call me to let me know you got there safe." You laughed under your breath, "If you ever figure out how to pick up with that ancient thing you call a phone."

Bucky fake gasped, "Cold Doll. That was just cold."

You walked out the door, hearing him plop back down on the couch. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

The chanting rang through your head. A silent pep talk. After making it down from the elevator, you were met with a man meeting you at the front door of your apartment.

"Miss Y/l/n?" "Yes?" You answered, "May I help you?" "We were sent by Miss Rambeau," He stepped aside, pulling the car door open for you, "As an escort."

Shaking your head, you pulled out your keys, "Nice gesture boys but.." You walked over to your bike that was parked by the front step, "I got my own ride."

"Ma'am I insist-" He tried to reason before you cut him off.

"Tell Monica I'll be there an hour sooner now that I'm not being escorted by her goon squad." You could see the way his eyes squinted but only cared for half a second before you turned the ignition and sped off into the streets of New York... Headed for a town called Westview.

One hour later

"And here I thought you would be late." Monica smiled, bringing you in for a hug. You laughed, reciprocating, "Me? Never."

She pulled back, "It's good to see you." You smiled, stuffing your hands in your pockets, "it's good to see you too."

"Come on.." She gestured to the town you were standing a little ways from.

"So what's the assignment?" You questioned, your hand resting on the gun in your holster. A habit.

"A town apparently gone missing." You let a laugh slip, "What?"

"This town." Monica pointed to the sign in front of you, "This place apparently doesn't exist."

You squinted at the sign, reading it clearly.

Welcome to Westview

"You do know we're standing right here." She nodded. "In front of it.." Monica nodded again, making you rub your head in confusion. "Are you on something because I think they drug test every agent-"

"I'm not on something." Monica shook her head, "look."

You watched her pull a pen from her pocket, walking a little further down the road, and throw it.

Wait. That was weird. It never...dropped.

"Okay..that's weird." You mumbled, walking up next to Monica. She hummed, agreeing. "We've talked to locals and nobody even has a recollection of a town named Westview." You looked over to her, attempting to come up with some reason for why this was happening.

"And what about government papers? Maps? Information." She shook her head, "This town has never existed anywhere in history."

You scoffed, walking up a little more. "Be careful Y/n." You waved her off, "I'm just looking."

Suddenly you started to feel a buzzing sensation as pain spread throughout your head. The once clear view of the road turned distorted. You could hear Monica screaming behind you but a tempting force was pulling you in. You lifted your hand, reaching, and reaching.

If you could just get a little bit-

"Ahhh!" You screamed, feeling your body passing through the barrier as your vision went dark. And you were left unconscious.

A distant chirping of birds caused you to wake, making you stuff your face further into the pillow. You could hear the familiar sound of a lawnmower and an occasional car horn honking outside your window.

Hold on.

When did you get home? The last thing you could remember was...Your eyes shot open, your body jumping off the comfortable bed. Where the hell were you?

The room was a pale blue, accented by wooden furniture. The bed was made, you had been sleeping on the covers. There was even a picture frame on the nightstand. You and...you and Natasha the night Bucky had joined the Avengers. You rounded the bed, picking up the frame. She looked so happy, holding onto your torso as she attempted not to fall. The one time she let her hard exterior fall down and she was genuinely open and fun.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek as you gazed at her wide smile. It was so real..so..Nat.

"Wakey wakey! Eggs and Bakey!!" Suddenly the door swung open, revealing...Wanda?

Her smile was wide and she looked...different. Her hair was crimped and she wore a pair of whitewashed jeans and a flannel. That's when it all came back to you.

Getting called in for a case. Meeting Monica at the edge of Westview. Being sucked in by an invisible barrier.

"Wanda?" You questioned lowly, watching her pour you a glass of orange juice from a pitcher. "Yes?" She answered, shaking some pepper onto freshly scrambled eggs.

"What's going on?" You watched her lift her eyes, her grin turning downwards before casting a fake smile once again. "Whatever do you mean, dear?" She walked around the bed and towards you, making your hand shoot down to where your gun should be.

And that's when you noticed your clothes had been changed. The once thin stealth uniform was now a pair of black corduroy pants and a white t-shirt. "What the..." You whispered, eyes shooting back up to the redhead before you.

"Wanda..." You gulped, "What's happening."

The sokovian laughed, "Come downstairs, dear. Say Good Morning to the boys."

"The boys?" Mumbling under your breath, you followed her from the room, making sure to take everything into account. Your training coming in handy.

"Boys!!" Wanda shouted, stopping at the end of the steps, making you stand beside her. "Come say Good Morning!"

You could hear sudden running from the other side of the house as two kids ran up in front of you. "Goodmorning Auntie Y/n!!"

You stayed silent, watching the two unknown boys grin up at you.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Wanda looked over at you, "Auntie Y/n?"

You let out a laugh, "Okay this is probably some sick fucking joke right?" The boy with longer hair gasped, "You said a bad word!!"

"Y/n! You know not to cuss in front of ears this young!" Wanda scolded, instantly smiling as she playfully covered the boys' ears and walked them over to the couch.

"Wanda, what the hell is going on?!" You shouted, fed up. "I won't ask again!"

Her smile faded, turning to a glare. "You just had to be the only one." She stalked toward you, however, you stood your ground, not backing down.

"You had to be the one to ruin this." Wanda's hand came up, two of her fingers pressing on your temple. Suddenly you were standing in a forest. If you could even call it that. Dead trees surrounded you. The sky was a dark maroon and the ground was black dirt.

Looking down, you were in your stealth uniform once again. "Wanda, please just tell me what's-" Your eyes went to her, standing there in a dark red suit. Her eyes that looked happy only moments ago now had dark bags under them. She looked tired. Her cheekbones were sunk in, and her fingers looked like they had been dipped in black powder.

"Wands?" "Don't call me that." She shook her head, walking around you like a predator stalking its prey. "I want to know how."

"How what?" "How you saw through it." Wanda gestured to the sky, "How you saw through the illusion."

You took a deep breath, "We both know why." Your eyes met hers as she stopped in front of you. "Because I'm not susceptible to your powers. I never have been."

She laughed darkly, "Yes, I know. That's why I could never read your mind in those godawful Avengers meetings."

You nodded, "You're keeping an entire town under mind control." Wanda smirked, "I thought that was obvious."

You looked around, not seeing a way out. Only dead trees for miles and miles.

"If your looking for an escape you won't find one." You turned back, Wanda suddenly standing much closer than before. "But why would you want to leave?"

"What?" Your brows furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

She stepped back, holding her hands out as crimson energy spread through her fingers. "I can give you everything you ever wanted."

"And what would that be?" You asked, a loud doorbell going off as you both were suddenly back in the house. Each of your outfits fitting the certain look Wanda had set.

"I wanna get it!!" One of the boys screamed, trying to run before the other one tripped him, "No! I want to!" "Boys," Wanda softly called, shaking her head. "Let's allow Auntie Y/n to." I looked over at her, seeing the way she smirked evilly. "Go on. Answer the door." Wanda walked closer, whispering, "It's for you."

You gulped, making your way over to the door as you shakily placed your hand on the knob. Turning it ever so slightly, you pulled it open, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

A gasp left your throat before you could contain it. "Oh my god.." You mumbled, clutching your hand to your chest as if that would help your breathing.

"Natasha..." You choked out, seeing her smiling at you with such a pure look.

"Well hello, detka." (baby)

Nat wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you in as her lips connected with yours. You stilled for a moment, then melted into her embrace. This couldn't be happening. You thought, however, your arms snaked around her waist. Pulling both of you impossibly closer. Her tongue moved with yours, both of you hungrily searching for more.

You reluctantly pulled apart, still holding onto her arms as if she would disappear..again.

But suddenly Nat stopped moving, her smile frozen as everything else seemed to still.

"What?" You mumbled, attempting to figure out what the hell just happened.

"So?" Wanda spoke from behind you, making you turn to look at her. "Choose." "Choose what?" "Her," She gestured to Nat still paralyzed behind you, "Or reality." You kept her gaze as she continued, "Live here. Have a house. A family." That hit a certain part of your heart. Having a family with Natasha, something you had both wanted, yet it felt like so long ago.

"Or go back. Live in the truth. That you're only an agent that lost her girlfriend." You thought about it as she rambled on, "Go back and you'll always be the Y/n that people give pity looks to because she jumped to save you both...when you were only two seconds behind her."

Gulping, you looked back to Natasha, seeing the genuine smile on her face as she gazed into your eyes.

Could you stay here? In this fake world, Wanda had created. Could you pretend like nothing on the outside had happened? That Natasha was dead.

You had tried to cope in the past few months but..not eating for days and staring at pictures while you drank yourself to sleep suddenly felt too far away.

Meeting Wanda's gaze you nodded. "I want to stay. I want her back." Wanda's smirk turned into a grin as time seemed to go again.

"Ahh, we have company!" Vision walked in behind Natasha. The redhead sloppily fell into your embrace as she walked you two over to an armchair to sit.

You tuned out the Maximoff family behind you, looking to your girlfriend that sat snug into your side. "Natasha?" "Hmm?" Her head turned, seeing the look in your eyes. "What's wrong?" Nat wiped a stray tear from your cheek, "Tell me what happened." You shook your head, stopping her worries, "It's nothing. I just.." She waited, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as you nuzzled into her palm. "I just love you, so much Romanoff." Natasha let a breathy laugh slip, holding your face in her hands, "And I love you, Y/l/n." She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, mumbling against them, "Forever and eternity."

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part One of Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,528

Notes: Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

You inhaled the calming aroma of your tea as you looked out into the familiar back yard while your friend Denise puttered around in the kitchen as she made you a snack.

Her mother, Laura, had recently moved out of the house and you came to visit her for the first time since, wanting to give her and her parents some time to adjust before intruding.

Denise was the same age as you and had recently started her university degree at Trinity College. You, on the other hand, attended a different university in Galway which is where you had moved to six months ago with your parents.

For a long time, you and your parents lived across the road from Denise and her parents. You both attended high school together and had become best friends.

Now, your old house was occupied by a new family with their two adorable little children and, whilst they seemed nice, Denise felt somewhat lonely not having a friend live nearby.

Denise had a brother named Liam who was 23 and still lived at home as well. He was only two years older than you and Denise and had always liked you quite a lot.

You, on the other hand, were never really interested in him and when, one night, he kissed you, you stayed away from Denise’s house for a few weeks to avoid the awkwardness.

‘He’s been working out’ you observed as you watched Liam mow the lawns outside. The buzz of the lawn mower got louder as he finished the front and methodically mowed his way around back.

‘Yes, he has been ever since he knew that you would be staying with us for the long weekend’ Denise laughed but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

‘Honestly, I would still prefer watching your dad mowing the lawns Denise, especially if he was shirtless and all sweaty’ you teased, knowing that your comment would get under her skin just as much as her comment about her brother got under yours.

‘Oh god, you are disgusting’ Denise said while her face evidentially turned green.

‘What? Your dad is hot’ you said before asking her where he was.

‘In Manchester, filming the last season of Peaky Blinders. He will be back tonight, unfortunately’ Denise said, enjoying to have the house for herself instead.

‘Oh, so he’s got the haircut?’ you asked somewhat excited, causing your friend to roll her eyes.

‘Yes, the infamous haircut’ she chuckled before you told her again that you thought that her father was quite attractive.

‘I know you have been saying that for years. Yet, it’s still weird and grosses me out’ Denise sighed before reminding you that you have boyfriend who would not appreciate you talking about other men like this.

‘We broke up two weeks ago. He was getting a little too possessive’ you explained before you described your two-month relationship to your friend.

‘Well, sounds like you dodged a bullet there’ Denise said, repeating the age-old break-up response and you nodded, thankful that your friend was there to cheer you up, but still feeling wounded by the whole ordeal.

‘Let’s not hit on my dad though, alright?’ she then laughed and you nodded again in agreement before Denise showed you the guestroom in which you would be staying.

***

At around 9 o’clock the front door of the house opened and you watched Denise and Liam get up to greet their father who had just arrived back home after having been away for three weeks’ straight.

‘I am glad to see that you haven’t trashed the house’ he chuckled and you quickly poked your head into the corridor to say hello.

‘Hey Mr Murphy’ you said with a wide smile when you saw him. He looked incredible, as usual.

‘Jesus, Y/N can you please start calling me Cillian’ he reminded you before greeting you and asking you how you liked Galway. You had known him for a while and he had told you on many occasions that the term ‘Mr Murphy’ made him feel rather old.

After some small talk, you and Denise returned to the living room to give him some time to tune down after having been away.

The two of you curled up on the couch in the living room with popcorn and a cheesy movie, just like old times and, at around 11 o’clock, you both decided that it was time for bed.

After getting changed into your somewhat revealing satin pyjamas, you tippy toed across the hallway into the main bathroom in order to brush your teeth when, suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Cillian stood in front of you with nothing but a white towel wrapped around him.

‘Uhm, I am sorry Mr Murphy…uhm Cillian’ you said with embarrassment, realising that you had almost barged into him but he didn’t seem bothered at all.

‘Don’t worry Y/N, it’s alright. Have a good night’ he said, getting out of the way and you stumbled into the bathroom.

Without closing the door, you starred at him walking down the hallway. How on earth could a man his age look so incredibly good you wondered as your eyes took in his toned body.

When he eventually disappeared into his bedroom and you closed the bathroom door behind you, all you could smell was the scent of the soap he had used mixed with a hint of his aftershave.

You know you shouldn’t think about your friend’s father this way, but you also couldn’t help yourself. After all, you knew that you were one of many women who were attracted to him.

***

When you finally went to bed, you felt a familiar tingle between your legs as you thought about Cillian in the shower. The image didn’t leave your mind and you wondered what he would look like without the towel wrapped around him.

With this attractive man on your mind, you slowly slid your fingers down into your panties and began to relieve yourself of the tension that had built up there.

You knew that the master bedroom was right next to yours and the thought of this turned you on even more. You knew he would be lying there, on his bed, possibly half naked.

Both windows were open and he did, indeed, lie there, on his bed, reading a book which is when he heard it, your soft moans and whimpers.

He couldn’t help but swallow harshly, knowing what you were doing right there with only a thin wall between you.

But the thought that he may be able to hear you didn’t stop you as you rubbed little circles around your tingling clit a bit faster until, finally, with one loud moan, you climaxed.

Just as you did, Cillian’s manhood stirred but he wasn’t willing to give in. He had too much self-control and his mind tried hard to focus on the book in his hands rather than the sounds you were making. You were his daughter’s friend and, whilst you were almost 22, this was highly inappropriate.

****

The next morning Cillian jolted awake when the alarm clock on his phone went off and he realised that he had forgotten to turn off the alarm when he returned home after being away filming.

It was only 7 o’clock but, since he was awake now, he climbed out of bed anyway and shuffled his way to his bedroom door. He made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He turned on the light and the shower water in one long movement.

After he got out of the shower and back into his shorts and a t-shirt, he wobbled out of the steamy bathroom into the kitchen where he smelled something burn.

Then, all of a sudden, he froze as he watched you standing there, flipping a pancake with precision on the stove without the use of utensils. You were unaware of his presence and he could even hear the song you were listening to on your phone.

You moved to the beat and Cillian was awestruck. After what he heard you do last night in the guestroom, his jaw dropped a few centimetres every time you rocked with the backbeat of the song.

You were wearing the same night shorts and spaghetti strap shirt you wore the night before but in the light of the sun you noticed your shorts were somewhat see through and your shirt was silk that didn't cover your breasts completely.

Eventually, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. A statue you hadn't noticed before? No, it was Cillian standing in the dining room, his mouth hanging slightly and his eyes glued to the scene before him. You paused and began to turn to the frozen figure that was still in your peripheral vision.

You yanked on the string connected to your ears expertly and one of your earphones popped out of place. Then you smiled at the shock on Cillian’s face but didn't stop moving to the song playing in your head. Cillian forced his mouth closed when he made eye contact.

‘Good morning Cillian’ you said softly. He gulped and nodded quickly before moving to where the coffee machine was standing and turning it on.

‘Good morning’ he then replied before offering you a coffee which you gladly accepted, causing Cillian to move over to the stove to reach for two cups.

You didn't move to make it easier for him to reach above the stove to the cups. Instead, you made him stretch his body over you.

You watched him as he did and you saw him trying not to look at you. He failed miserably.

‘Do you want pancakes?’ you then asked with a warm smile and Cillian nodded.

‘That would be amazing, thanks’ he stammered as he was preparing the coffees.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you then asked, still swaying to the music on your phone and Cillian nodded again but didn't realise that you were pouring pancake mix in the pan and couldn't see his response. After a moment you looked over to him.

‘Do you like blueberries?’ you asked again quietly and Cillian smiled and nodded again.

‘Yeah, I like ...’ he cleared his throat before adding the word ‘blueberries’.

He rolled his eyes at his response when you turned back around but you simply smiled and walked him over a stack of blueberry pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup.

‘There you go’ you said as you put the plate in front of him and felt his eyes follow you when you turned around and back to the stove.

A few minutes later you dumped one last pancake on a third plate and put the plate in the microwave. You took your plate and cup of coffee and went to sit by Cillian where his food was barely touched.

‘Not hungry?’ you asked as you began to eat.

‘It’s early’ he responded, still trying hard not to stare at your cleavage.

Eventually though, you both ate in silence, a silence you loved and Cillian hated.

He couldn't think of a single joke the entire time you both sat there and you just smirked every time he grunted instead of speaking.

Soon you could hear Denise walk through the living room and this was Cillian hurried up and ate the last bit of his pancakes before excusing himself.

***

‘Wow, you actually got him to eat in the morning. That’s something’ Denise joked as she walked into the kitchen and saw that her father had eaten some of the pancakes you had prepared.

‘Where did he go?’ you then asked, knowing that he had excused himself without any further explanation.

‘Down to the basement, listening to some music I would say’ Denise said as she dug into the pancakes, enjoying them quite a lot.

‘Talking of music, do you have an iPhone charger? My phone is almost out of charge’ you asked, looking at the battery on your phone.

‘No, I’ve got a Samsung. Dad has iPhone though. Go downstairs and ask him’ Denise then suggested and you nodded before making your way down towards the basement.

***

You walked down to the basement and knocked before opening the door slowly as you didn’t hear Cillian answer you.

You didn’t want to intrude on his privacy but, to your surprise, when you did open the door, you saw more than you had bargained for.

Cillian was sitting in front of his computer and it was quite obvious to you what he was watching.

You could see most of the screen from the angle at which you were standing as well as his hardening cock in his hand. He reached over and squirted some lotion onto his palm, lubricating his whole shaft before beginning to stroke with soft squelching sounds.

You wondered whether you should say something or whether you should just turn around and leave. But, you did neither and, instead, you watched as you were getting more and more turned on.

He fast forwarded and jumped around through different videos, his thick cock towering over his fist at the bottom of every stroke. You could feel that you were getting wet, but starting to cramp a little in your unchanged position after so long. There was something deliciously naughty about watching him in secret.

After ten minutes Cillian settled on a video of a young lady who had remarkably familiar features. Her hair was about the same length and colour as yours and her skin tone and build were strikingly similar.

You started breathing more heavily and pressed your legs together to deal with the tingling sensation in your core. You enjoyed watching the porn actress's performance while Cillian’s heavy, throbbing shaft disappeared under his fist faster and faster. His cock was beautiful and you wanted to walk into the room so badly and replace his hand with yours.

Eventually, you could see Cillian’s abs begin to twitch and tighten as he got closer to his high as he continued to stroke his shaft.

‘Fuck’ he groaned as he started to cum, pumping jet after jet of stickiness back towards his chest, causing you to gulp.

But you knew what you had to do. You couldn’t walk in now, it would be too awkward.

Just after you watched Cillian clean himself up, you quickly tippy toed back upstairs which is where Denise was waiting for you.

‘Did you get dad’s charger?’ she asked but you simply shook your head.

‘Uhm, he didn’t have one…left it in Manchester I think’ you said with flushed cheeks.

‘Are you okay Y/N? You look a bit hot?’

‘Uhm…yes…fine…thanks’ you stammered out before telling Denise that you would go and have a shower.

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