#( you know she's always gonna be peering down at him like TRY ME BITCH )

[rubydracogirl]

Siren's Treasure

Alright, so, I've got about three prompts of my Mermay list finished. I'll link the other parts as I upload them, but I'm starting with this first one.

As promised, this is a Gravity Falls fic, Sea Grunks style.

Siren!OcXFord and Stan Pines (I'm greedy, leave me alone.)

Rated M just in case

Part two is here

Chapter 1

Bottle

It’s well known that the sound of the sea can be calming. Some have even said it’s healing. One thing Ford was sure of was that he’d always found comfort in large bodies of water and so did Stanley.

Sure, the sea came with its own perils but after traversing the multiverse and surviving Weirdmageddon, handling the dangers of sailing around the world seemed small in comparison. 

Still, the strange shape he’d been catching glimpses of in the water bothered him. Whatever it was had been tailing them for several weeks. He’d mentioned it to Stan who dismissed it with a shrug.

“I dunno how to tell you this, Poindexter, but it’s the ocean. There’s fish in the ocean.”

Ford wasn’t so sure, but he put it at the back of his mind. It couldn’t be more dangerous than the kraken they’d fought off a few months back-

“Hey, Sixer, any idea on when we’ll find some actual treasure?” Stanley griped as he popped open a bottle, casting his eyes over to his fishing line, which had been sitting without a bite for over an hour.

Ford grunted in reply.

“If you hadn’t acted so recklessly in Ireland, we could have had some real leprechaun gold!”

“You and I both know they were never gonna just give us their treasure!”

Ford rolled his eyes as Stan went on, and he turned his gaze back to the waters. His brow furrowed as he noticed movement. Was it their tag-along?

It was fairly big, whatever it was. A seal maybe? That would explain why Stan hadn’t hooked any fish-

“-And besides, treasure is just one half of what we’ve been missing! We still haven’t seen any babes!” Stan drank the last of his soda and made to throw the bottle overboard.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Ford commented, almost absently as he eyed the water.

“What, and not pay tribute to Glass Shards?” Stan shot back as he hucked the bottle overboard. “I know you’re still a nerd when it comes to women, but c’mon-”

“That’s not true! Look, we could try hitting up some coastal towns on our way back south.” Ford tried placating his twin. 

Stan raised a brow.

“Do I look like I’m getting any younger-”

A loud clatter interrupted him. The bottle Stan had thrown overboard bounded and rolled along the deck, coming to rest at his feet.

“...What the hell?” Stan bent and picked up the partially empty bottle, which now held some sea water.

The twins glanced at each other before looking at the water. But there was nothing there.

Stan chucked the bottle again, more aggressively this time.

It landed with a splash and they watched tensely as it sank out of sight. Nothing happened, and they both relaxed after a few minutes. Ford flinched as Stan broke the silence loudly.

“As I was saying- OW!”

The bottle was thrown right back, hitting him square between his shoulder blades this time.

“Son of a bitch! Ford, quit playing around!” Stan swore as he whipped back around, temper flaring with his confusion.

“It’s not me!”  Ford was craning his neck, and he pointed excitedly.

“Look! There!”

Stan turned, squinting at the water.

She was so easy to miss. Her hair was dark and gray-green like the waves around her, and the strange, rippling patterns on her skin blended with the rays of the sun bouncing off the water. The face that peered at them from the water could have easily been mistaken for a human if not for the fins that poked from her hair and the gills along her neck. 

They caught this in a glimpse as she ducked back down out of sight.

“Mermaid?” Stan choked in a hopeful tone.

“Close, but I don’t believe so.” Ford replied, running to the other side, looking for another sign of her. He could see her shape, but she wouldn’t breach the surface again.

“Give me that-” He snatched the bottle from Stan and threw it overboard, waiting.

He saw the bottle bob and half-sink before it was grabbed by a webbed hand. She rose back up and tossed the bottle back at him. Ford caught it with some ease, adjusting his glasses with his other hand as he studied her. 

She rose up a little higher from the waves, meeting his gaze with equal curiosity and he noted her serrated teeth, the sharp ridges on her brow bones, and most importantly, the dorsal fin on her back-

 “Greetings!” He called out to her, pulling out his notepad and flipping to a blank page. “What’s your name-”

She ducked down out of sight and Ford sighed in frustration.

“Heh, still not too lucky with the ladies, I see.” Stanley guffawed, leaning over the railing as he searched for another sighting of her.

“For your information, I dated a siren back in Gravity Falls!”

“Oh yeah? Did she know that’s what you were doing?”

“What do you mean, of course she- Stan, that’s deplorable!”

“Hey, hey, it’s not my fault you’re prone to creepy behavior-”

“I AM NOT- That’s not important right now! You realize what this means right?” Ford groaned as he gestured to the water. “The thing I’ve been seeing has to be that siren! Which means she’s been following us for the past couple of weeks!”

“I knew I had a magnetic personality, but I didn’t realize it was so strong!” Stan chuckled. Ford gave him a sour expression.

“I sincerely doubt you’re the reason she’s been hanging around.”

“Hey, don’t be jealous!”

“The only thing you attract is trouble!”

“Like you’re any different, Mr. Let-Me-Poke-This-Anomaly-With-A-Stick-And-See-What-Happens!”

“That was one time!”

“What do you-No it wasn’t!”

The two continued to bicker, and their voices carried across the water. Neither of them noticed the Siren poke her head back above the water as she watched and listened. 

She smiled and her dagger-like teeth glinted in the sunlight before she ducked back down beneath the surface.

[all-pacas]

ted and lily (just as friends), "did you really not know?"

i uh. forgot to put the sentence in. but it's here in spirit???? how do i write lily i don't know. set sometime around/after 'no pressure' in s7.

Lily opens the door to what had been Robin's bedroom. Peers inside, closes it, then yanks the door open again.

"Hasn't changed since ten seconds ago!" Ted says bracingly, collapsing onto the sofa. "Have you seen her new place? Central Park views."

"TV money," Lily says enviously. "You gonna be okay living on your own?" She's deeply pregnant, and Ted is too smart to call her walk to the sofa waddling. It is.

"Sure," he lies. Concession to her third trimester, he has a bottle of Mexican Coke instead of a beer. Picks at the label all the same; it's sweeter than he expected. Ted hasn't lived alone since... ever. Since the week and a half Marshall and Lily had been on their honeymoon.

Lily sits with a grunt. "I bet Barney would rent the room from you."

"No."

"I'm just sayin'. You could get a lot out of him, he's pretty rich."

Ted grins.

Lily's just itching to interrogate him, but settles for tapping her fingers menacingly along her belly. "I told her I loved her," he says, giving in. "Okay? That's why she moved out."

He's just about positive Lily already knows, and true enough, she grimaces but doesn't fake any kind of shock. Why else come here alone, oohing and awwing over an empty bedroom?

"I'm not upset," he adds. Lily looks summarily unimpressed. "Okay, I'm not thrilled. But --"

"It's for the best."

He sighs. "Yeah." Lately Ted feels like he needs a flowchart to make sense of everyone. Everything. Who lives where, who wants who. Sometimes he's sure he knows Robin inside and out after hundreds of mornings and bowls of cereal. Sometimes that feels like love. Sometimes that feels like suffocation. When they had dated, they'd rarely had breakfast in the mornings. "I asked her if she loved me too, and..." he trails off.

"She does love you," Lily says, but they both know what she means.

"I'm not upset," Ted says again. "Okay. I am upset. But." He grimaces. Stares up at the ceiling, willing his words to fall into order. Robin had always been there. On this couch, in her room, at the bar. Waiting. They'd been waiting. He'd been waiting, and not even realizing it. Why search for the one? Why put in the effort? Look at his last few years. Victoria, who he'd betrayed. Stella, who'd betrayed him. Zoey, and the ways they'd hurt one another. And then Robin. "I think a part of me just assumed... well, she'll grow out of it."

Lily makes a sound. He gives her a look. She looks everywhere around the apartment, innocent as can be.

"Lill," he says, drawing out her name --

"Okay, fine!" she huffs. "It's just." She's trying not to smile. "Did it ever occur to ya Robin felt the same way?"

"She isn't in love with me. She was pretty clear." She'd been sad. That was the worst part. If she'd been any less than devastated, he might not have believed her, might still be hoping, even with her moved out, uptown, away.

"No. But maybe she also was thinking you'd grow out of it." Lily makes a face. "If, you know. Growing out of it meant 'stop wanting marriage and kids and normal grownup stuff like that.'"

He thinks he could be okay without kids. But the fact that Ted doesn't immediately jump to saying it, again -- he sips his coke. The idea that Robin has been waiting for him to change, waiting for something of her own... that's disquieting. He doesn't know why. It should be good news. Everything he's hoped for. Hope.

He wonders if he's the one she's been waiting for.

He glances over at Lily. "So you're here to comfort me in my heartbreak?" He manages a smile. It's not her usual job, since Lily seldom approves of his girlfriends. She's typically more likely to sit him down and explain all the reasons why Zoey was a bitch.

"Nah," she admits. "I'm here because I love you, and I love Robin, and I am so glad she finally moved out and put an end to this weird pining thing. In a healthy and loving way."

"Hear, hear," he says, raising his soda.

"You both gotta move on."

"Couldn't agree more."

"I told Robin, too. No more games. No more waiting. She can do way better than you."

"Ouch," he says, joking.

"And you can do better than her."

In his heart, he's still not sure.

Lily huffs. "And I'm here to make you get me some nachos from downstairs."

"I can do that one." He helps her to her feet, Lily puffing from the exertion. "Marshall meeting us?"

"He's working late tonight. Barney isn't picking up his cell." With Robin doing the 7 o'clock broadcast, she won't join them before nine.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Ted says. For a second he wants to give her a hug. He bumps against her shoulder. Lily shoves him. "Is it weird, hanging around a bar all the time when you're on your nineteenth month of pregnancy?"

"Ooh, make fun of the pregnant chick. Here I thought Barney was gonna be missing tonight..."

They head downstairs together.

[fuckstories]

The Pharaoh's Curse And The Genie's Blessing (RAP)

Now Shhhhh!

Lurk And Be Quiet As I Sing You A Song!!!

Let's Begin By Taking A Moment To Pray

To God Above, Our God, That We May Be Given His Peace In These Troubled Times

We Must Pause And Let This Wonderful Message Wash Over Us As We Remember That

There Are Some Things Worse Than A Plague!!!

Like A Rapper With No Talent!!!

That Is Something A Bitch Shouldn't Even Think About!

Oh Yea I'm Bitter!!!

But Let's Not Focus On Me!!!

Let's Talk About The Pharaoh's Curse!!!

The Pharaoh's Curse Came Upon Egypt In The Year 1303

And Killed Almost All The People Who Ever Lived There!

Including Those With "Z" Names

Except For Those People With "Z" Names Who Were Dead Already!!!

Well Folks I Told Y'all It Was Bad!!!

I Didn't Say It Was Good!!!

As If The Pharaoh's Curse Wasn't Enough, Then There Was A New Scarcity That Turned Out To Be A Blessing!

A New Scarcity Of Oranges!!!

In The Year 1303

An Old Man Was Working On An Orange Tree

When He Sucked In His Breath At A Buzzing Sound

That Caused Him To Sneeze So Hard That The Whole Orange Tree Swung Right Over Him And Hit One Of The Peers In The Face!!!

It Turned Out To Be The Greatest Scarcity Ever!!!

The Man With The Best Sneeze Went On To Have A Long and Successful Career

He Started Out By Selling Oranges in New York

Then He Had The Idea To Make Jellies!!!

And So He Did!!!

I Want You To Try And Picture All This In Your Head

Please Pay Attention Now!

Here's How It Is Gonna Work!!!

A Few Minutes From Now We Will Turn Off The Light!!!

And Put Some Cotton Balls Over Our Mouths!!!

Before We Begin We're Gonna Read Out Loud

An Amazing Tale That Will Rock You Like Nothing Before!

The Story About The Pharaoh, Who Got Turned To Stone And The Genie Who Showed Him The Way Out Of It!!!

Let Us Pray Again To God Above To Bless Us And Keep Us Safe As We Remember That

There Are Some Things Worse Than A Plague!!!!

Like A Rapper With A Terrible Voice!!!

Ya Heard Me Right!!!

So Listen Up People, All Is Calm... Now Begin!!!

Here It Is!! The Pharaoh's Curse!!!

My Dear Brothers and Sisters, Listen Carefully

While I Sing You A Story, I Will Never Forget What I Saw

What I Saw During the Time I Was In The Underworld

There Once Was a Pharaoh Whose Name I Can't Even Say Out Loud

Who Died In The Year 1303 And Left His Empire to Go Down There With the Other Dead Bodies!!!

I Did Too!!!

But First I'll Tell You The Part Where I Went Down Under, Which Is Called Hell!!!!

My Journey To Hades Started On Christmas Eve Day, The Same Day My Dad Was Turned into a Spider.

I Went to Church But Not Because I Believe in God

But Because I Love Going to Church.

I Think It Would Be Wonderful If We All Went to Church!!!

Because It's Always Nice To Sit Down With Everyone

But Back To The Pharaoh...

When We Got There

I Saw Many, MANY Other People

Lined Up In A Giant Circle

That Had to Go on Without Their Friends And Family

All Because They Killed Someone

Who Had A Name That Had A Z in It!

To Be More Specific They Killed Them With "Z" Names!!!!!

This Is A Long Story

But Let Me Stop Here and Bring The Pharaoh Into the Story!!!

I Got In Line Behind a Group of Girls Named Stephanie, Alexus, and Azalea

They Were Very Loud Because They Weren't All That Intelligent.

One of the Girls Screamed, "It's OK To Get Angry With God!"

Another Said, "I Am SO Angry!!!!"

And Another One Said, "I Hate That My Parents Named Me 'Alexus'!!!!"

Then Another Girl Screamed, "But I Don't Know What To Call My Daughter When She Gets Older!!!!"

I Thought About Saying That to the Girl With "Z" Names but I Wasn't Ready Yet to Be Annoying So Instead

I Put on My Cute Eyeglasses

That My Dad Sent Me From Germany

That Shaped Like A Dragon With Golden Wings

And Everyone Thought I was so Cool and Cute

Because I Was Different From Everybody Else.

The Pharaoh Looked Very Strange Down Under

He Had The Cutest Smile and Blue Eyes

And A Face that Will Never Look Bad in Photos!

The Pharaoh Was Waiting In Line

Along With All The Other Dead Bodies

Until He Got to the Top

Where He Found A Dead Fish Eating Another Dead Fish

The Pharaoh Stopped Eating and said, "Excuse me... You are eating another dead fish?"

The Dead Fish Said, "No... I'm Eating a Living Fish."

The Pharaoh Said, "OK Then, You Can Have It"

So the Pharaoh Touched His Sword, And Swallowed The Living Fish

Then He Looked Around for Something He Could Eat

He Saw A Worm, Which was Also Very, Very Dead

But When The Pharaoh Touched it It Turned Into a Boy Who Said, "Hi! My Name Is Pete!"

Pete Was A Little Creepy Looking Because he Had No Eyebrows Or Nose Hair

Or Ears On Both Sides Of His Head

But That Didn't Stop Him From Being Friendly!!!

Pete Was A Good Boy!!!

And he Talked and talked about God For So Long...

The Pharaoh Thought The More Talking the Better

Because He Would Never Run Out of Things To Say!!!!

The Pharaoh Thought, "God Is Great"!!!

The Pharaoh Thought, "I Wish I Was God So I Can Keep Talking To People for Free."

The Pharaoh Thought, "God Is Good."

But after the Pharaoh Stopped Thinking and Said "I Want to Be God"

Another Worm Came Along

And When He Touched It

It Turned into A Girl Named Patrice.

Patrice Was Pretty Cool but the Pharaoh Wanted More!!

Patrice Talked for Hours

About The Bible

God's Son

And How There Is Only One True God

Who Created Everything in Existence!!!

But when Patrice Finished Talking

Another Worm Came And Turned Into a Boy Named Jason, Who Had His Parents' Name

Which Made It Really Weird!!!!

Jason Talked for Days and Days and Days and Days

And Eventually He Turned into God, The Creator of All Things!

God Told the Pharaoh that He was God and Had Seen The Pharaoh in Line

He Said, "You Will Rule over All the Dead Bodies."

The Pharaoh Did NOT Think This Was True!!!

But God Was God

And The Pharaoh Didn't Want To Upset Him!!!

So the Pharaoh Wore the Crown of a Ruler over His Head

And Started Chanting Names of Gods in a Long, Long, LONG Song

He Said Names Over and Over and Over and Over and Over...

The Pharaoh Singed...

"God is Great

God is Good

I Am Not God

I Will Eat God"

He Shouted it

Over And Over Again

Until His Voice Cracked!

He Couldn't Make the Voices Go Away So he Shouted The Last Thing he Could Think Of!!

"God Is Bad

I Am A Good Person

I Do Good Things for the Good of Others!!!"

He Turned To God, Who Was Standing Right There In Front Of him, and Took His Finger And Pressed God's Nose.

God's Nose Blew Water

And He Sprayed All Over The Pharaoh!!!!!!!

The Pharaoh Woke Up, Completely Wet

He Washed Himself with The Water from the Fountain

And Then Looked Outside to See Where The Rain Came From

But It Wasn't a Raindrop... It Was the Face of God Looking At the Pharaoh

In This Moment God Gave The Pharaoh a Gift:

A Magic Staff of Light

So That The Pharaoh Could Never Be Put On a Pedestal

Because All Good People Are Like Everybody Else!!!"

It Happens Every Year...

The Moon Rises Over A Different Place...

All the Pretty Flowers are Cut

Everybody Eats a Very Strange Fish, Including The Pharaoh...

The Pharaoh Wears a Crown over his Head

That Makes Him Never Feel Pain.

He Shouts out "I Am God!!"

Then God Punches the Pharaoh in the Face and makes him Swallow A Living Fish, That He's Actually Eating the Worm...

This is All a Dream...

All I See Is the Moon Over Egypt...

I Can See Everything Happening Here

Even though I'm Thousands of Miles Away from my Home Town

"Alleluia"!!!

God Save The Pharaoh!!!

(from my memory)

Thank You To My Fans For Your Patience Over These Last Few Months. I Know You Were All Waiting To Hear A New Song From Me. The Great News Is That My Song, "The Pharaoh's Curse And The Genie's Blessing", Finally Came Out This Week! (I know it took a little while, but that just shows you how special this song is!) You'll Be Amazed At How Powerful This Song Is!

I Think You'll All Agree That This Song Is More Than A Little Bit Bizarre!!! I Am A True Professional Who Always Delivers The Best Possible Music I Can But There Are Still Times When The Music Makes The Music! This Is One Of Those Songs! Please Be Sure To Give This Song An Honest Chance, If It Doesn't Hit Home for You Right Away You May Still Find Something That Resonates! In Fact, If You Would Please Share This Song With Your Friends, I'm Pretty Sure Many People Will Find Themselves Feeling It Deeply By The End!

That's the Kind of Song This Is Folks! I Hope You're As Excited As I Am!!!

If Not I'm Sorry This Was The Song I Had To Bring To You!

That's All Folks!

[solesoldier-a]

gunnerychief replied to your post: sb, gesturing vaguely to joker: shepard, can you...

SHEPARD COME GET UR MANLET

shepard vc: I finally found my receipt, I’d like to return him please

[piecksz]

prove it | (m)

pairings: modern!jean kirstein x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, penetrative sex, saliva, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, slight mentions of breeding, explicit language

words: 3k+

summary: your jealousy sparks a bitter argument between you and jean, but he shows in more ways than one, that you’re the only person he’s infatuated with. 

a/n: as always, if you wanna fully immerse yourself in the smut hehe you can listen to the songs i looped incessantly while writing: girls need love too by summer walker and excitement by trippie redd and PARTYNEXTDOOR (you cannot tell me that jean wouldn’t listen to either he’s so sexy omg pls free me from my brainrot)

You gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up above your ankles to make sure the material didn’t get caught under the sharp heels of your shoes while you stormed into the house. Seething with outrage, you swung the front door shut behind you, savoring the few seconds of solitude you had before Jean trailed behind you clamorously.

“I already told you, and I’m telling you—again—I didn’t know she was going to be there!” Jean was insistent, his footfall demanding on your tail as he followed you into the kitchen. His fingers were carelessly twined in his hair, an overt demonstration of his stress.

You hastily tossed your purse onto the counter, paying no mind to the way it slid across the granite and almost toppled over its edge onto the floor. “Bullshit Jean. It was your fucking event, how did you not know she was gonna be there?” You spared him an irate glance, it was the first time you’d looked at him since the two of you left the venue.

The entire ride home, Jean had attempted to make conversation, asking you if you’d enjoyed yourself and trying to solicit your opinion on how he’d done coordinating his company’s milestone event. Following the successful closing of a large venture deal and the expansion of the corporation, his boss had entrusted him to organize a company soirée to celebrate, and if Jean’s event had managed to go off without a hitch, a possible promotion was in the cards for him. However, much to Jean’s confusion you were quiet in your responses, mainly giving one word answers and little praise.

After relentless prodding, you snapped, admitting you were irritated after seeing Jean talking to Mikasa, an old coworker and friend of his. You’d disappeared for only a moment to use the bathroom, but when you returned, the two were engrossed in what seemed like interesting chatter. Seeing the way Jean laughed after everything she said prompted the agitation in your lower stomach to boil up into your throat. Nothing was that funny.

“Maybe I overlooked her name on the guest list.” Jean’s fingers left his hair and wrapped around his tie, tugging to loosen it.

“Oh, you sure looked over her while you two were talking and laughing.” You stood on your toes to grab a mug from the cabinet before slamming its wooden door shut. “What was so funny? The fact that you used to fawn over her like an idiot?”

You shuffled back over to the sink, flipping the faucet and watching as the mug filled with water before bringing the cup to your lips to take a long drink. You sighed as the liquid quenched your dry throat, raw from yelling. You peered over the top of the mug at Jean, eyes following him as he made his way over to the selection of hard liquor against the kitchen wall.

“There you go. Name calling like a fucking child.” He poured himself a generous glass of booze, chuckling wryly and taking a sip.

You pulled the mug away from your mouth. “You—are so—,” you started, but your words disbanded into a loud and frustrated groan.

“I’m so what?” Jean swirled the auburn liquid around in his glass, pretending to look more interested in the way it moved than in the conversation you two were having.

“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Jean. You really don’t.” You set your cup down loudly, so forcefully it might have shattered with just another ounce of force. “Stop acting like I’m overreacting. You know I’m not the jealous type, you fucking know that. I wouldn’t care, but you know you guys have history together.”

“Yeah, history means that it was in the past,” Jean retorted. “It was in the fucking past.”

You leaned forward on the counter, dipping your head low as if to question the validity of your boyfriend’s reply. “You’re telling me you’d be okay seeing me with an old flame?” You laughed humourlessly.  “You complained for ten minutes after a waiter called me sweetheart.”

Jean took another long sip, then exhaled. “Because he clearly couldn’t tell the difference between horny and hospitality. Now you’re blaming me because you couldn’t see that?”

You nodded sardonically, a disbelieving smile shadowing on your lips while you reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. “And how’s that any different from this?”

“Mikasa never liked me back, what’s the problem? Did you just pick a topic out of a hat to bitch about?” Jean downed the rest of his alcohol, and then returned the short glass to the display. He wiped at his lips with his thumb and started back toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Jean.”

He let out a low chuckle while he rounded the length of the counter, sauntering in long strides until he was behind you with his large hands planted on the curve of your hips. He dipped his head, letting his mouth ghost by your ear. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” His palms began roaming, first gliding across your stomach before moving to your backside and cupping your ass in the curve of his hand. “Especially in that dress. You look really fucking good, baby.”

You barely cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

Jean’s low voice rumbled against your back. “Hell yeah.”

You turned around to face him, gazing up at him from behind sultry lids. “Then how about…,” you started, teasing him by fiddling around with the loose buttons on his shirt. “You sleep dreaming about all the things you wish you could do to me tonight. Because you’re not getting any.” Your seductive expression fell, and you pushed him backwards so you could slide out of the space between his body and the counter.

As you retired into your bedroom, you heard Jean’s weary voice echo from outside. “You’re cold.”

“Good,” you responded back resoundingly. “Maybe Mikasa’s free.”

“Maybe she is!” he retaliated, and although he wasn’t in front of you, you could nearly see the way he rolled his eyes at your spiteful jab.

You rolled your eyes back. “Shitforbrains.”

You removed your earrings, throwing them onto the dresser with your necklace before slipping out of your heels and stepping out of your dress. You struggled to make haste, trying to get ready for bed as quickly as you could before Jean entered the bedroom and had a chance to say anything that would incite another feud. Lazy and clad in your undergarments, you hauled yourself into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror lethargically while you brushed your teeth and removed your makeup with halfhearted effort.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

You removed the cold wipe from your lids, opening your eyes and watching as Jean wandered into the bathroom. He continued walking until he met you at the sink, and he wrapped his long arms around your frame again.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into him until the space between your bodies waned. You gave him an unamused glare through your reflection in the mirror, and resumed rubbing away at your persistent eyeliner.

“Should I mark up that pretty neck of yours?” Jean nestled his face into the curve of your neck, pressing messy, carnal kisses along the side of your throat until his lips met the dip underneath your jawline. He lightly brushed over it, knowing it was your sweet spot. Every time he wanted to turn you into a frenzy of moans, that spot was the easiest way he knew how.

“Or maybe I should have you carry our child.” His hands were hot against your stomach, the soft pad of his finger drawing a delicate circle around your navel. You were glad it didn’t tickle enough to make you laugh.

“You’re pissing me off,” you said, simply.

Jean released a husky groan that vibrated against the hollow of your throat. “You’re turning me on.” He hummed. “You feel that?”

You did. Against your ass, you could feel the prominence of Jean’s hardened cock through his pants, digging eagerly into your backside, and he did nothing but continue to fuel his lust by rubbing his erection against you.

“You’re the only one that can get me hard like this,” he strained, grunting at the discomfort in his briefs.

“Look how pretty you are.” Jean took your chin in his hand and prompted you to look at yourself in the mirror. He hovered over your shoulder and looked on, like he was only spectating. “Do you think anyone compares to you?”

His eyebrows creased while amber eyes fixated on your skeptical face. After a lack of response, he jerked your chin, forcing your attention back to yourself. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Exactly. Good answer.” Jean’s thumb swept gently across your chin while he withdrew his hand.

Your timid eyes drifted over to him, observing as he slid two digits into his mouth, glazing them generously with saliva before lolling his tongue and pulling his fingers out. A thick string of spit lingered until his hand dipped and slid itself into your underwear.

You choked back a desperate cry once you felt Jean part your folds, using his wet fingers to pet the sensitive swell of your clit. Instinctively, you wrapped a sweaty, tremulous hand around his wrist, but it did nothing to quell his painfully tender ministrations.

“Jean,” you murmured. Your voice was breathy, just barely above a whisper while you gave in and rolled your hips against his hand. “Fuck, wait—Jean—”

“I love the way you say my name.” He placed his free hand on your breast. His fingers hooked onto the delicate fabric of your bra and tugged the material down, freeing your nipple. “Say it louder.”

“Jean,” you mewled loudly as he began flicking the hardening peak of your chest with a ginger touch. His movements were delicate and sensual, as though he wanted to kindle an impatient desire within you.

Jean’s fingers continued to rub slow, tortured circles into your clit and he eased into you every few seconds to make sure he was keeping his fingers slick. Once he heard your whimpers begin to ebb, he would stop and switch the direction of his motion, sending you into another flurry of moans and taking pleasure in the filthy-wet mess he was creating in your panties. “Louder.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes until the darkness of your eyelids melted into white heat. The familiar torrent of quivers shook your body, and the surface of your skin tingled with the onset of your orgasm. You dug your nails into Jean’s forearm, and in the haze of your high you forgot about all of your concerns.  

“Jean!” You cried his name again, your wail echoing off of the bathroom walls while you writhed against his hold. You moved restlessly, looking for absolutely anything to cling to in an attempt to steady yourself until your climax subsided.

After you came to and regained your soundness, you scrutinized yourself in the mirror through misty tears, chagrined at how easily you’d submitted to him. You were situated limply in Jean’s arms, bottom lip swollen from persistent biting in your best efforts to veil how good he was truly making you feel, but from the sickeningly-smug simper on his face it was obvious that now Jean knew his fingers were more fruitful than an apology. Which meant this episode surely wouldn’t be the last of its kind.

He slotted his fingers into his mouth for the last time, sucking the silken coat of your arousal off of them before releasing them with a quiet pop, then Jean’s other hand crept up your neck until his thumb drove itself to part your closed lips, just wide enough so he could stick his lubricous fingers inside.

“Mhm,” he encouraged, nodding at the way you meekly looked to him for direction.

Jean’s fingers were warm and sloppy in your mouth as you sucked and he watched you intently, undoubtedly wishing that his cock could receive the same treatment. He sighed heavily as you wreathed your hot tongue around his knuckles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his digits from your jaws before his urge to stick them down your throat and watched as you gagged through tears became insatiable.

Jean worked one hand against his belt, unbuckling it skillfully before impatiently forgoing his buttons and tugging on his zipper instead. His breathing grew labored while you watched from the mirror as he shuffled behind you, and you canted yourself to the side to provide yourself with a clear view of Jean’s cock in the surface’s reflection.

His thick length pulsated, convulsing even without contact, and every time it did so, a fresh stream of precum dribbled from the swollen, red crown of his tip. With a light hand, Jean tapped his cock against the side of your thigh, prompting you to take him in your palm, and when you obeyed, it elicited a lengthy groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You weighed his hot and heavy cock in your hand before beginning to move slowly, flicking your wrist and evoking the jerking of Jean’s hips when you did. His head hung forward and loose strands of his neatly tucked hair billowed around his face while he watched as your hand worked against his throbbing heat.

Jean delivered another set of kisses to your neck, kissing along your jawline until he stopped at the corner of your mouth to take a brief second to acknowledge his own pleasure. “Shit,” he grunted, his fleshly pants now becoming uncontrollable. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You loosened your grip around Jean’s cock while he curled his fingers around the cloth of your thin underwear, pulling it down until he stopped midway past your thighs, then his large hand settled between your shoulder blades to bend you over.

His palm collided with the pert curve of your ass, delivering a mild spank, and then he ghosted his touch over the stinging pain, blithely enjoying the way you whimpered his name ever so quietly. Jean positioned himself at your dripping entrance, prodding the tight hole with his tip over and over again just to taunt you until you glowered uncomfortably at him through the mirror.

“Stop it,” you heaved, your longing now turning into an unbearable itch.

Normally, you knew Jean would have loved to tease you, disregarding your begging and instead working even harder to rouse you, but you could tell by the sweat that beaded around his hairline that he needed relief too. So Jean spared you, grip tightening on your hips, and he pushed himself into you with a husky and guttural moan that overwhelmed your delicate whines.

He wasted no time and began moving, gradually picking up his pace until he decided on a moderate speed, not too rough, but just forceful enough that your breasts jounced and your body lurched against the sink whenever he thrusted into you.

“I always tell you how good you feel, do you need to hear it again?” Jean murmured, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and whenever he pulled back to rock his hips forward again, it glistened with a new layer of your arousal. “Your pretty pussy always takes me so well.”

He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place while he fucked himself into you, over and over again. You tugged at Jean from deep inside your well, tightening your walls around his cock and causing his jaw to go slack with bliss.

“The way you fucking milk me, I could cum right now.” His balls slapped ceaselessly against your skin, and the sound of two sweaty bodies married together saturated the thick sex-tainted air. You struggled to watch yourself in the mirror, mouth wide open and eyes bloodshot from your tiredness and tears. Jean’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear and sent a ripple of goosebumps down the expanse of your back.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now and keep it for later.” He panted into your ear. “You’re the only thing I can think of when I jerk off, it would be nice to have a visual.” When you said nothing he smiled, tugging at the softness of your lobe with his teeth. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

You could only give a weak and disoriented nod, and when you felt Jean’s cock twitch inside you, coupled with the way his muscles tensed underneath his skin, you knew he was close. You wrapped your hands around the arm curved about your waist and nodded at him again, cueing that you wanted to feel his release inside you.

Jean arched an eyebrow, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he made no efforts to slow his cadence. “Yeah, you’re gonna let me cum inside you?”

You nodded silently for a third time.

Jean delivered a few more generous jerks before the small of his back tightened and he came inside you, amply flooding your chafed walls with his hot seed until you overflowed, and the creamy, white liquid seeped past the girth of his cock and began dribbling down the inside of your thigh.

Jean pulled his now limp cock out, wiping his essence gently on your folds before pulling you into another doting embrace. His clinch was tight, warm cheeks pressed against each other while he looked at you in the mirror with complete and unadulterated adoration.

“I love you,” he affirmed before flipping you over in his arms to face him. He bent down to press a salty and clammy kiss to your mouth, his lips stalling for a few moments longer before he pulled away and then delivered another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, stupid?”

You bobbed your head briefly, now embarrassed at your earlier outburst. You sunk into Jean’s torso, head against his chest, and mumbled sheepishly. “I love you too.”

The two of you stood together, arms encircling each other until Jean carefully broke his caress and began tugging you in the direction of the shower.

“Come on baby.” He grinned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[stranger-marauders]

repaired

one: starcourt mall

chapter summary: Kate visits her favorite person at Starcourt Mall after defusing a situation at home.

chapter warnings: language, mike being a bitch

word count: 2.0k

series masterlist | masterlist

KATHERINE MICHELLE HOPPER and her father tried to ignore "Never Surrender" from El's room as they watched a rerun of Magnum P.I.

Even though Kate had seen the episode before, she could only do him the favor of finishing it out with him before she left for the evening. As of right now, though, her father bitterly tried to pay attention to the show in front of him, bitterly shoving Tostitos chips in his mouth. Kate could only watch as her father started to lean back in his recliner, or at least looked like he was about to.

"Dad, don't do it."

"I have to check."

"Don't do it. Don't look. You're just gonna get mad."

Without another word, he leaned back into his recliner to find Mike and El kissing in her bedroom.

"Hey!"

El gasped and instinctually slammed the door shut.

"Hey!" her father shouted as he got out of his chair. "Three-inch-minimum! Leave the door open three inches!"

And he's mad. Kate sighed, burying her face in her hands. She could've sworn this happened every single night she was home for the tail end of Mike's visit, which was every single day, but because this had been happening seemingly every night since December, she had stopped trying to keep up with it.

As he banged on the door, he said, "El, open this door. Open the—" Once he'd finally gotten inside of her room, the lock twisting back to open the door, Mike and El were both sitting in opposite places on her bed, reading two different magazines.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, not even trying to hide his smile.

Kate moved into the doorway of El's room behind her father. "Hey, I'm leaving." She peered inside, looking at Mike. "Need a ride, dude?"

"I'm good—"

"Mike," Kate said urgently, trying to get him to listen to her. She didn't want her father to kill him. "Just put your bike in the back, it'll be fine. It'll fit."

He only nodded reluctantly.

Once Kate and Mike had gotten into her car, Mike had already started to talk to El again through his radio.

"My God, that was priceless!" Mike said. "Did you see his face?"

"It was like a tomato!" El replied through her own walkie.

"Yeah, a fat tomato—"

"Mike," Kate warned. Even though she always tried to stay neutral and only defuse the tension between Mike and her father, just out of respect for her sister, she hadn't appreciated the way he would talk about her father directly in front of her. In her opinion, he'd started to turn into a little shit in the past year. She almost laughed every time she thought about it—it reminded her of how Steve had started to become an asshole when they were that age (of course, he had obviously grown out of it).

It was a very odd situation that El having a boyfriend put Kate in as her older sister. She had never truly given her little sister having a boyfriend any thought, most because her biological little sister, Sara, had died at the age of seven when Kate was eleven. Before she and her father had taken Eleven in as one of them, she hadn't ever thought she would have a little sister ever again. Even so, Kate loved the fact that she had a little sister. As awesome as Eleven was, though, her taste in boys? Garbage. At least her taste in boys as they acted right now.

"I wish I was still with you," El said over the radio.

"I know," Mike replied. "Me too. But I'll see you tomorrow, all right? First thing."

"Tomorrow," El repeated, and Mike clicked off the radio, pushing the antennae down and stuffing it into his backpack.

As they finally pulled into the mall, Kate shook her head. "You two are crazy for each other."

"Oh, come on."

"Hey, I never said it was a bad thing," she said, cutting the engine off as she put the car into park. "Just… don't give my dad a heart condition, please? He's, like, still too young to have a heart attack and die."

Mike nodded as she got out of the car to take his bike out of the backseat. As they walked to the mall, Kate gave Mike his bike to wheel to the front of Starcourt. 

Once they'd reached the entrance of the mall, Mike locked his bike in the bike rack. Kate watched as Lucas, Will, and Max approached them. "You're late."

"Sorry!"

"Again."

"Were gonna miss the opening," Will said.

"Yeah, if you keep whining about it. Let's go!"

Kate shook her head as the group of four ran off. "See you dorks later!" She only watched as they ran through the mall as she made a stop of her own. She stopped at the food court, determining that Imperial Panda had the shortest line. Whenever she'd gotten three to-go boxes of food, the man taking her order looked at her slightly funny, but she didn't care. She had to feed the working class, she assumed.

Of course, she had very quickly been stopped by none other than Jessica, Kim, and Stephanie.

"Kate!" Kim called, the three girls quickly running over to her whenever they had picked her out of the crowd of the food court.

"Oh my God, hey," Kate replied, holding the bag of Chinese food in her hand tightly as she flashed them a smile.

"Where you runnin' off to?" Jessica asked, looking to the plastic bag with the boxes.

"Oh, you know, just bringing the boy dinner," she replied, holding the bag up. "I get worried, you know? He doesn't eat anything but ice cream unless I bring him something, it's absolutely ridiculous."

All three of the girls laughed. "Man, how is he holding up?"

"You know, same as always. Working."

Stephanie shot her an unreadable expression, pressing her lips together. "Hey, well, tell lover-boy we miss him. We haven't seen him in weeks since he works all the damn time."

Kate laughed uneasily. "Tell me about it."

"Are we still on for Thursday night?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah, we'll be there. I mean, we'll be later, but we'll be there. By the grace of God, we somehow got him off a few hours early."

The group of girls smiled at her. "See you soon, Kate!"

She waved in response, running off in the opposite direction of the three girls. Whenever she finally walked into the ice cream parlor, moving away from the crowded food court, she was greeted by none other than Robin Buckley.

"Hopper!" she shouted. "You brought dinner!"

"Got your favorite," Kate said. She pulled a box from the bag she'd been given by the quick service restaurant, handing it to her over the counter.

She smiled in response. "How kind of you." She opened the box, picking out a single noodle and dropping it into her mouth. "You know, you're way too good for him."

Kate opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, the door opened from the breakroom, and Steve quickly came out of it. "You know, I can hear everything from in there."

"I know," Robin said, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

He rolled his eyes as he walked over to Kate, taking the bag out of her hand. "You're my hero."

"Yeah, I know," Kate said. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into the break room with him. "I even got you extra for tomorrow."

He smiled, closing the door behind him whenever they'd walked into the room.

The break room had been a very common location for Steve and Kate to hang out at since he'd started working at Scoops Ahoy. It hadn't been much of anything, considering there were only a couple of chairs, a table, and a counter that Robin and Kate sat on regularly. It had been a plain room, but one large enough for them to have their makeshift dates in whenever they didn't have enough time to go on real ones.

Whenever Steve had set the food on the table, he motioned to the bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that sat in front of Kate's seat. Before she could sit, however, he pulled her closer to him by the waist, his fingers splayed over her jawline as he pulled her into a kiss. He pulled away quickly, smiling slightly. "I love you so much."

"Yeah?" she replied, kissing him once again before she pulled away, letting him sit down and open the box of food in front of him. She stifled a laugh whenever he started chowing down on his noodles. "I love you almost as much as I love that hat."

Whenever he sighed and rolled his eyes, she giggled in response. "You know, I've been waiting for you to come with food all day. I was starting to worry you forgot about me or something."

"How could I forget about my little sailor man?" Kate asked, putting her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek.

"Shut up."

She stifled a laugh as she sat down, she took a spoonful of ice cream out of the bowl, placing it in her mouth. "Wait, have you not had anything besides ice cream to eat today?"

"Uh… no," Steve said, sitting down to eat the food she'd brought to him. "I mean, can you blame me? It's not like I can leave—"

Before Steve could finish his sentence, the lights in the room shut off without any warning, the hum of electricity disappearing from around them. Whenever their eyes adjusted to the dark, the exchanged confused glances, then shuffled out of the break room to find Robin scooping ice cream for a costumer. The lights were off in the lobby, too, as well as the rest of the mall.

"That's weird," Steve said, moving toward the light switch panel on the wall. He started to inspect it, flipping the switch back and forth. Of course, nothing happened—the power had very obviously gone out.

"That isn't gonna work, dingus," Robin said, only staring at him.

"Oh really?" He began to flip the switch even faster. If the lights would have come back on, they would've flashed so quickly that it would've been difficult to process the change in light.

Kate laughed. "Steve, that's not gonna—"

When Steve cut the switch on for the last time, the light suddenly came on, and the nautical tune that seemed to always play inside of Scoops sounded again. The ice cream fridge quickly gained power again, and the air conditioning began to buzz again. "Let there be light."

Kate shoved him into the breakroom again, shutting the door behind her. Whenever they stepped deeper into the room, she gave him a questionable look. "What'd you do to piss her off today?"

He shrugged, throwing his uniform hat on the counter. "Ah, you know, the usual. Breathed the wrong way. Said something stupid. Kids showed up and got me to sneak 'em into that new movie."

She sighed, moving to sit on the counter. "Again? Dustin's not even here, why are they—?"

"Because they need me, you know? It's just like the ride situation again," Steve said, putting his hands on her waist.

"Not the ride situation again."

"They don't ask you for anything, okay? You don't understand."

"Yeah, because you do it," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Stop coddling them and they won't use you as much."

"What if I want them to need me, Kathy?"

She rolled her eyes, jumping off the counter and pulling him to his chair. "Sit down and eat, sailor boy."

He scoffed at her, not trying to hide his smile as they continued to eat their dinner and ice cream—it was a bad date, but a date nonetheless, and neither of them would trade it for the world.

next chapter

taglist:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5298 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellacauseshebroke @blackbirddaredevil23 @mads-weasley @ilovemarauders @pearlstiare @liableperfections @khaylin27 @girlwiththerubyslippers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[sleekervae]

When in Rome... [Remington Leith x Reader] Part I

Hello humans! I got this idea from the lovely @imabee-oralizard so big shout out to them! Boy, oh boy, did I whip this up fast! And to stick with the pattern, I probably won't have another update posted for another month 😅. Jkjk.

As usual leave likes, reblog and comment your love! Or comment your favorite/least favorite food!

Masterlist

Summary: Having been bestowed a knighthood in Rome, Emerson invites y/n to join him and Remington on their Italian trip. In a classic case of "I have to keep my crush a secret because they may not feel the same way", Remington has to keep his super-massive-black-hole crush a secret from y/n. However, things get turned on the wayside when they run into their good friends from Maneskin...

Warnings: some cursing, some intoxication, mostly fluff

---

The waters were almost crystalline, shimmering in the beating sun like diamonds, cool and inviting. A young woman lay on the sunny deck of a private yacht -- the very first she ever had the pleasure of being aboard -- and tanning blissfully off the Italian coast of Capri.

She was just on the brink of falling asleep, it would've been a fitting closure to the sumptuous lunch she'd enjoyed earlier. However, her ears perked when she heard the boisterous chanting from the other side of the boat.

"Three! Two! One!" a short silence followed, then a loud splash. Y/n sat up from her cat nap, peering over the rail of the boat to find Remington bobbing in the water. His giddy smile glinted in the reflection of the light, and he was satisfied as he turned up and did a quick backstroke in the ocean. Y/n smiled to herself as she shifted over to sit against the railing, waving idly as he swam over.

"Need a line, sailor?" she shouted down.

Remington shook his head, "No, but how about you jump in? Water's fine!"

Y/n pouted, "But I was trying to have a nap!"

"A nap!?"

"Pardon me for having jet lag!"

Emerson called out to her from the railing, "C'mon, Y/n! You can sleep when you're dead!" and he jumped in after his brother. He emerged a moment later, hissing and cursing to himself, "Fuck! I landed on my hams!"

The others laughed at the absurdity, and Y/n simply shook her head as she peeled herself off of the deck. Remington clung to the ladder, anxiously watching as she got up onto the railing -- with their friend Ben's help, of course.

"Y/n!" he called up.

"What is it, Remi!?"

"Why are you gonna' dive in with your sunglasses on?" he asked, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

"It's not advisable!" Emerson added as he swam over, shoving Remington aside so he could climb back aboard, "Move, bitch,"

"Says the bitch who landed on his hams,"

Y/n grumbled to herself as she realized she still had her sunglasses on. She handed them off to Ben, then taking a deep breath, she leapt off the boat and disappeared under the water in a big splash. When she emerged, y/n shook out her hair and cleaned the water from her eyes, however she was dismayed to find Remington had suddenly disappeared from the ladder. A moment of panic hit her, she had been friends with Remington long enough to know that he was up to no good.

"Oh shit," She swam as quickly as she could to the boat, but she wasn't fast enough. She shrieked out as cold hands grabbed her and suddenly lifted her up from the water.

"No! Fuck you!" y/n cried out and tried to grab from the ladder. Remington however laughed like a little school boy, though she always found it hard to be cross with him. Annoyed? Sure. Pissed off? Hardly ever.

"You see? You're awake now!" he chided. Remington had been hiding just beneath the water's surface, his foot locked on the bottom rung of the ladder to ensure neither of them would drown when he'd grab her.

Y/n relaxed as he eased her back into the water, still she clung to the ladder rungs as she playfully scowled, "One of these days, you're gonna kill me, Remi,"

"And why the hell would I wanna' do something so stupid?" he leaned in closer, close enough to count the freckles that dotted her cheeks, "I'd miss you too much, y/n,"

Y/n smirked, gently punching his bicep, "Mmhm, sure," with that she let go of the ladder, pushing off from the boat and taking a quick swim. Remington stayed put, eclipsed by how gracefully she moved, how pretty her hair was as it shone under the sun. Everything always seemed so much brighter whenever y/n was around, even when he was trying to annoy her.

It was as though every time he stared into her eyes, he could clearly remember the first time they'd met. Eight years ago, back when he was literally a starving artist and she was a temporary guitarist filling in whilst Palaye was trying to put their band together. Eight years later and Remington and Y/n were still as close as ever, and they'd watched each other grow and flourish into the fantastic artists they'd become. No matter how much drama they endured, the fights she'd watched the brothers have, the breakdowns he would coax her through when she was feeling inadequate in her music career. Through thick and thin, they always had each other -- it was hard for Remington to imagine what his life would be like without her.

And maybe that was why he woke up not long ago and came to a realization that he wanted y/n on an entirely different level. And it wasn't just thinking about her on a physical basis, it came down to how good he felt emotionally being around her.

Y/n was swimming back just as he shook himself out of his daydream. He saw her up the ladder and back on deck safely, subconsciously peeking out of the corner of his eye as she towelled herself off. When he turned however, he met Emerson's accusatory stare. The youngest brother simpered to himself.

"You're such a suck," he told him.

Remington rolled his eyes, snatching up his own towel to dry off, "Shut up," and he wandered to the other side of the boat. Emerson, being the little ever direct and menacing little brother that he was, followed.

"You know, I don't get you. You've been drooling over y/n for months, I don't get why you don't just ask her out already," he said.

Remington simply shrugged, "I'm just not ready yet," he replied.

"You're not ready or you're not brave enough?" Emerson asked.

Remington huffed, "I'll plead the fifth,"

Emerson stared unimpressed at his brother, "You're not gonna' give me the whole 'I don't wanna ruin our friendship' business, are you?"

"Can't I?"

"No, that's bullshit,"

Remington whipped off his towel, then began to spin it around into a tight cylinder, "But perfectly acceptable,"

Emerson snickered, "Crazy idea! How about you ask her to the Fever Dream premiere?" he suggested.

"Sure," Remington scoffed.

"I mean it," Emerson insisted, "You want an icebreaker? Start with the premiere!"

I will... think about it," Remington decided, hoping that would be enough to get his brother off of his back.

"Well, think fast," Emerson chided, "'Cause if you don't ask her out, I just might do it for you,"

Remington smirked, "Try it and you die!" he took the twisted towel and whipped it at him. Emerson shrieked and ran to the other side of the boat, cowering behind another one of their friends. Y/n's attention turned to Emerson's girlish screams, and her eyes diverted right to Remington and his towel.

Remington simply smiled and waved at her.

---

The afternoon dissolved into a gorgeous evening, the sunset painting the sky in rich oranges and delving into deep indigo. The streets were bustling with people, the smells of fresh pasta and baked pizza intoxicating and smaller children ran by balancing gelato in their hands.

Hoots and hollers from more drunk patrons echoed into the night, and despite the late hour buildings were still lit up in dazzling, twinkling lights that guided the group back to their hotel.

The had been brazen to stay out so late despite their jam-packed day. They'd enjoyed a beautiful seafood dinner at a local coastal restaurant, and despite how often Remington would go on and on about his veganism, y/n found it so curious to watch him practically devour his poached fish and pasta.

"You are the strangest vegan I've ever met," y/n sighed as they strolled down the boulevard.

Remington chuckled bashfully, his arm slung around y/n's shoulders to keep her close, "You remember the first time I tried to be vegan in Europe, right?"

"The waiters in Spain practically laughed us out of the restaurant," y/n shook her head fondly at the memory.

"Well, a lot can change in six years! Next time we go back, they'll have vegan tapas!" Remington declared.

"One can only hope," y/n grinned up at him, her arms suddenly coming up to wrap around his neck, "Thank you for inviting me, Remington,"

"You kidding? It wouldn't be any fun without you, y/n," he chuckled a little as she stumbled her and there -- on account of the few Aperols she had with dinner, "You okay to walk?"

"I'm good," she reassured.

As they trailed behind their friends, an older woman passed them by. She was a flower peddler, two bundles of rich red roses tucked in her arm as she offered them out to the tourists of Capri. She spotted Remington and Y/n immediately, smiling kindly as she approached them with a single rose.

"Scusi signore," she greeted in a low, gruff tone, "A rosa for your sweetheart?"

The pair glanced at each other momentarily, and Y/n couldn't help but blush at the sudden notion, "Oh -- no. We're not --"

"Sure," Remington suddenly piped up, reaching for his wallet and giving the old woman some money. She beamed gratefully and handed the rose to Y/n, then wished them well before moving on to the next couple.

Y/n watched her walk away, intrigued as she swiftly turned to Remington, "What did I do to deserve a rose?" she smiled bashfully.

Remington shrugged, his mind reeling to come up with a valid excuse for his impulsive purchase, "I mean -- I appreciate you. And unlike with Emerson, I don't have to drive you around to places to prove how much I love you,"

"No, you just whisk me away on an impromptu Italian vacation," she giggled brushing the flower over Remington's nose. They both started to laugh like children and Remington took the stem between his teeth.

Y/n gasped, "Oh my God! You could be the next Bachelor!"

Remington chuckled still with the flower in his mouth, took it out and offered it back to her, "Y/n, will you accept this rose?"

Y/n giggled but shook her head, "Nah,"

Remington's jaw dropped.

"What? Not used to rejection, Mr. Leith?" Y/n teased.

Remington chuckled, "Oh, I'm very used to getting rejected," he said.

"By who?" she asked, "Who the fuck would actually reject you?" she elbowed him in the ribs. 

"Well --"

"No, seriously," she drunkenly rambled, "You're like -- the sweetest person I've ever met. And you're just so kind and cute and you're so innocent,"

"Innocent?" Remington raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay -- not actually innocent in all rhetorics," Y/n giggled, "But yeah, you just have an innocent vibe about you,"

"Shit," he laughed, "Fanfic writers are gonna' rave about that,"

They made it back to their hotel in one piece, with Remington holding Y/n up most of the way. He sobered himself up mentally so he could take care of her. She kept tripping over her own shoelaces as they made it into the lobby, so Remington decided to pick her up and give her a piggy back ride. Y/n didn't complain, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and enjoyed the ride, giggling a little when Remington would trip now and again.

"Remi!" she yelped, holding onto him tightly when he purposefully bounced her, "Don' do that," she whimpered, to which Remington simply laughed. He even held her on his back during the elevator ride and carried her to her room. 

He carried Y/n to the bed, turning to let her off but she ended up pulling Remington down on top of her, both of them let out an 'oof'. Y/n then started to laugh.

"Sorry," she giggled.

"You okay?" he grinned.

"Yeah. You're kinda' heavy," she admitted and Remington moved off of her and stood, "No, wait! Come back!" she whined. She moved to sit up on her knees and grabbed his hand. 

Remington couldn't help but laugh as she pulled him back down next to her. 

"You're a clingy little drunk, you know," he said.

"I know," she sighed heavily, "But isn't that another reason why you love me?"

"Of course," he replied, brushing some more hair away from her face. She started laughing again, this time a snort made its way in, "What's so funny?"

"You," she giggled.

"Me?"

"Yeah. I really like your hair, you know," 

Remington raised his eyebrows, subconsciously running his hand through his lengthened black hair, "Oh, do I?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Everything about you is just nice. And you're really pretty, too,"

He chuckled, "Y/n, you're baked"

"Oh, so what?" she moved to lie down on her stomach, pillowing her head in her arms, "It's the truth. I'll be sober tomorrow, but you'll still be beautiful to me,"

He couldn't help but smile, appreciating that she wasn't all in her right mind but it felt good to hear her say that. Even if she did steal the quote from 'The Dreamers', there was something sort of romantic about being complimented with a line like that. 

"You just ripped off 'The Dreamers'," he said.

"Don't you judge me," Y/n snuggled up to the taller boy, her arms coming around to hug him. 

Remington held her, taking in her staling but heavenly smell of grapefruit. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, slowly warming her up. He saw the goosebumps ripple out over her skin, the hand with her zodiac sign tattoo brushing over the collar of his shirt. 

"I think I'm in love with you," he said suddenly, unable to stop himself before it slipped out. Luckily, y/n was falling in and out of consciousness, sleep moving in on her.

"Hmm?" she hummed, blinking her dark brown eyes open.

"I think I'll head back to my room," Remington said, gently moving to escape her grasp despite how badly he wanted to stay.

"You can stay if you want," she told him, trying to force her eyes to stay open, "I really don't mind,"

"It's okay, y/n. Besides, you snore," he grinned. Y/n glowered at him before settling back into the sheets.

"Cocky bitch," she murmured.

Before leaving he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, her light snores already leaving her. He had his eyes trained on her as he came to the door, taking one last lingering glance. She was peacefully asleep, sure to fall victim to one hell of a nasty hangover in the morning. He surely couldn't escape the same fate. He wanted to crawl back into that bed and hold her, to feel her arms wrap around him again and make him forget all his troubles. They'd done it time and time again but somehow, something here was different. He felt different, and it wasn't just the alcohol clouding his judgement.

For a split second he could hear Emerson's voice in his head, trying to force out Sebastian, Chris, and so many other people had insinuated time and time again. The harrowing thoughts he had about her seemed to grow and grow, everyday his want reared his ugly head and reminded him how close he was to having her, and yet how far she was because of his own fear of rejection. Yes, he was afraid of her rejection, but he was also afraid of what could happen if she said yes...

[To be continued]

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[charnelhouse]

Hi! I absolutely adore your rendition of Din and the atttitude you give the reader makes in a genuinely joyeous perspective to read through.

I know you’re on a TF kick right now and feel free to completely ignore this but I was re-reading the Din’s Ex Drabble and I really liked the insecurity of the reader, it felt very genuine and I would love to read more of that with Din comforting her in his own way. I think it’s one of the only times we’ve REALLY seen her doubt herself.

Only if you’re inspired of course! ❤️

A/N: I always have time for my one true love Din Djarin. This is following the event of this drabble.

Din slides into a narrow corridor on the ship. There are so many dangers - so many pitfalls and all of them are causing him a mess.

He’d seen your face - the torn open expression. Mileena was a bitch - a fucking asshole and he wasn’t surprised that she had tried to slice you through - tried to make you doubt yourself and his desire for you.

No - his love.

Love.

He’d confessed it. He had said it out loud and he had meant it with everything in him.

There had been plenty of women before you. They had been sensations - the nails to itch his scratch. Vessels. They had used him too - just the same. He had never made promises or had even been all that nice.

It just didn’t make sense to linger.

But you.

That was night and day. He had fallen hard and fast, colliding into the heat of you without really understanding how to pull the brake. He didn’t even want to and that terrified him enough as it was.

He pauses when he hears boots moving toward him.

It's you. He can identify your tread out of a thousand. When you pass the doorway, he shoots his hand out and drags you into the corridor. You startle - your palms flying to his chest plate.

“Maker,” you gasp. “That - you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

You peer behind him. “You’re literally brooding in an empty hallway.”

He shrugs before stepping toward you, cornering you against the wall. It’s very quiet aside from the trembling echo through the hull - the vibrating hum of the engines beneath their feet. “Wasn’t brooding.”

You bite your lip - blinking up at him with a new hesitance. He’s never seen you so unsure of yourself - so ready to question your next move.

“What is it?”

“You can take it back, you know,” you remark softly - gaze falling to his throat. “You - you didn’t have to say that you loved me in front of her. I know you were trying to make me feel better -

“That’s pretty rude,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and feels the shattering pulse of your heartbeat. You’re nervous.

“Rude?”

“To think I just said something like that to say it,” he sighs. “Mandalorians always say what they mean.”

Your brow wrinkles. “I just - I don’t want you to feel like you had to say that - to defend my honor or whatever.”

He snorts. “Do you think so little of me?”

“What? No!”

He wraps his hands around your shoulders - jerks you slightly to get his point across. “I’m gonna say this and you’re just going to have to accept it, alright?”

You nod - eyes narrowing in suspicion. Stars - and he thought he was emotionally fucked.

He tilts his helmet - his fingers curling under your chin to force the line of your vision. “You listening?”

“Yes,” you breathe - your chest rising with the weight of it. You look too pretty - too feverish and overwhelmed. He’d screw you right here if he could - get down on his knees and eat your sweet cunt. But he’s fucked you a hundred times - he’s given you his body again and again and that still doesn’t seem enough to convince you. Sex is their easy language. It’s how they began.

It’s the rest that alludes you. He sweeps his gloved thumb over your cheekbone - relishes the ease with which you sink your face into his palm. You soften for him - you bend and follow - the very tide to the hook of the moon. You make him glow.

He drops his head - lowering his modulated voice to something quiet - something intimate and shared.

“I fucking love you,” he says - watching your eyes water and your lips part. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I’ve never loved anyone before, but I know I love you.” He swallows - regaining his composure. "At least - I'm pretty sure -

“Din,” you murmur - cutting him off - your fingers tangling in the cape at his neck.

“You don’t have to say it back,” He presses his helmet to your brow - the truth of a kiss in his own language.

You cling tighter to him, brushing your soft mouth across his visor. Beneath the warble of the ship and the thrum of the machinery, you confess the same.

[giggly-squiggily]

Braid (Tokyo Revengers)

Heyo! So, this fic was based off a spontaneous headcanon I made a few posts back- the idea of Draken’s tattoo and temple being ticklish lives rent free in my brain, and I couldn’t resist making a fic out of it! I hope you like it!

Summary: Mikey wants to braid Draken’s hair. He discovers an interesting quirk about the big guy.

“Kenny….” Mikey flopped over in his spot on the floor, looking up at Draken with big eyes. He always did that when he wanted something- be it treats, a piggy back ride; you name it. Draken wished he could say he was immune to it.

He tried- staring forward and keeping his expression as neutral as possible. Mikey scooted closer, putting himself in Draken’s vision. Oh no- he’s doing the puppy eyes. Draken could feel himself starting to crack.

Hold out…hold out…

“Kenny…”

“What do you want Mikey?” So close!

“Can I do your hair?”

Draken blinked, surprised by the request. He looked at Mikey, raising a brow in curiosity. “What? Why?”

Mikey shrugged, giving nothing away. “I want to. You do my hair all the time.”

“Which you should really learn to do yourself.”

“That’s for another day.” Mikey grinned cheekily. “Come on! Let me do yours! I want to see if I can do the braid! Plus, you can’t tell me your arms don’t get tired after some point!”

Draken stared at him, considering his offer. It’s true his arms sometimes felt like lead- whether it be from carrying Mikey everywhere or from fights.

Still- asking someone else to do his hair felt so…intimate. He was letting his guard down enough to let others touch him so…gently.

He looked at Mikey.

Well…it wasn’t like Mikey was a stranger. They’ve been through it all, from gang fights, to petty drama between them, and a load of good memories to share. He was a brother to him, after all. “Fine. But if it looks stupid I’m taking it out.”

Mikey lit up like a Christmas tree, eyes brightening as if Draken summoned yet another mini flag for his kids meal. “Yay! Thanks Kenny! I’m gonna make you look pretty!”

“Gah- don’t make it weird!” Draken rolled his eyes, easing back as Mikey climbed on the bed, gently pulling the long blonde braid loose. “Wow, look at all this hair! You’re like Rapunzel of the Toman gang!”

“I think that title belongs to Baji.” Draken mused as Mikey combed his fingers through the locks, blowing a stray strand out of his face. “Do you even know how to braid?”

“Of course I do! I have a younger sister.” Mikey told him matter of factly. “Though if you ask Emma she’d tell you I’m terrible at it- but what does she know, she never braids her hair”

Draken snorted, imagining his friend and girlfriend arguing about his awful technique. Yep- definitely redoing it later. “Maybe she’s scared you jinxed her and doesn’t want to try it.”

“Hush!” Mikey tugged on a strand gently, carefully gathering up the rest. “That was a while ago. I’m much better now!”

Maybe not in style, but Draken couldn’t deny Mikey seemed to know what he was doing. His fingers were gentle as they detangled and twisted each strand, helping the other relax. He could feel Mikey’s hesitation at some points, trying to figure out where the next strand should go. Then he’d sort it out and carry on the process.

It was surprisingly soothing. Draken could feel himself starting to drift away.

“Hm. You know- I never did get to touch this.” Mikey mused out loud, peering at the dragon tattoo that sat along his friend's temple. “Did it hurt?”

“Like a bitch.” Draken answered, earning a laugh. “Go ahead. It’s healed already. It’s not gonna feel like much.”

“Oo, okay!” Mikey cheered. He put the hair-tie in the half finished braid, brushing aside any strands as he looked at the tattoo. With careful fingers, he ran a finger along the dragon’s body. “Wow-“

A snort resonated.

Mikey blinked. As did Draken.

“Did you just?” Mikey started.

“No.'' Draken cut him off.

The commander stared, processing what just happened. “You snorted?” It was more a statement than a question.

“No, I didn’t.” Draken stated firmly, the relaxed feeling slowly being replaced by nerves as Mikey studied him. “What happened to braiding-“

Mikey ran his finger along the tattoo again. This time Draken couldn’t hide the snort. “No freaking way! You’re ticklish!” Mikey cheered, giggles already bubbling up.

“No, I’m not! The tattoo just…” Draken blinked, realizing he couldn’t claim it hurt. He had just told Mikey it felt like nothing. “I don’t know, but I’m not ticklish.”

“Mm-hmm. And my name is Ken Ryuji.” Mikey grinned mischievously, looping his legs up and tucking them over Draken’s shoulders, pinning him. “Is it just the tattoo or is the entirety of your head ticklish?”

“Mikey, let me go- ergh!” Draken ducked when Mikey dragged his fingers against the skin, keeping his touch incredibly light. Reluctant giggles started pushing up his throat, and he clamped his lips shut to avoid smiling. “Mihikey!”

“Oh, what was that?” Mikey teased, grinning as he watched his friend struggle. “Was that a giggle? Is someone gonna laugh?” He increased the pressure lightly, opting to drag his short nails gently along the skin behind Draken’s ears and neck. “Come on, Kenny, no need to hide. I can feel you shaking!”

Was he shaking? He was definitely struggling to move. He could easily push away the legs holding him down-but Mikey was having fun. And he liked it when Mikey was having fun, so he let it be.

That didn’t mean he was going down without a stance of resistance!

“Mihihikey! Geheheht o-ohohff!”

“Oooo, you're laughing Kenny! Looks like I was right!” Mikey let out a gremlin-like snicker- going back to gently trailing his fingers along his temples, occasionally dipping behind his ears. “Come on- admit it tickles!”

Draken tried. He gritted his teeth. He ducked his head. He willed himself not to laugh and gave in immediately to Mikey’s game. He could do this-

“Pffft gahahhahahahhaha! Mihihihikey!”

He failed!

“Haha! Yay, Kenny! I knew it tickled!” Mikey cheered with a laugh, relishing in the deep laughs and chortles escaping the other’s lips, a blush creeping up Draken’s neck as he tried to wriggle away. His smile was warm and mirthful, giving Mikey even more incentive to continue. “Haha, you ARE ticklish! And here you are telling me you’re not! Finally- I can get you back!”

“Gahahahhaha! Mihihihihihikey! Ohohohohokay! Ohohohohokay I’m tihihihihihicklish! Now quihihihihit ihihihit!” Draken wheezed you, squeezing his eyes shut with mirth. Realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one, he squeezed his arms around Mikey’s legs and lurched forward.

“Whoa!” Mikey squeaked, suddenly tumbling forward and landing safely into the soft carpet. “Ke-hehehehehehehhenehehehehhehy!”

“You had your fun. Now it’s my turn!” Draken grinned as he quickly pinned the other, tickling along his stomach and sides until Mikey was howling with laughter. “Get ready to die, Mikey!”

Thanks for reading!

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

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[nojey]

impostor

quackity x streamer!reader

genre: fluff, crack

word count: 2,312 (my most so far 😳)

warning(s): (y/s/n) = your streamer name, (n/n) = nickname, cursing

synopsis: having a flirty personality was your nature, but when you use that to make a certain boy in your among us lobby blush, where does that leave you?

today was the day you were going to play among us with some of your friends, and new people you haven’t met yet. you were beyond excited to meet new people because that meant new friends, and new friends means new people to stream with. you hadn’t been able to make new friends recently because people always thought your flirty personality was too much to deal with and gave them mixed signals whether you wanted something more than just being friends. you genuinely didn’t have those intentions and it was something you were lowkey insecure about. your friends had assured you that it wasn’t your fault and it was just your personality but the new people you wanted to be friends with told you otherwise.

you had been streaming for the past 30 minutes waiting for someone to send the code in discord. talking to your chat about the lobby and who would be in it, “um the only people i know for sure are gonna be in it is poki, rae, sykkuno, corpse, and bretman. but rae did tell me that there would be some minecraft streamers,” you said lifting your eyebrows in a suggestive manner. your chat knew about you simping for minecraft streamers and they were excited for you, some of them warning you not to fall for one because they’ll just break your heart and flirt with each other. 

you heard the notification from discord coming from rae, sending the among us code and you immediately started up the game. waiting a few seconds, you put in the code and saw you were one of the last people to join. you entered the vc and heard them talking. “hi everyone!” you said in a cheery voice, smiling as they all replied with a greeting. “i’m (y/s/n), but you guys can call me (n/n)” you said. waiting for everyone else you weren’t familiar with to introduce themselves. everyone did and you figured out that you were playing with not only poki, rae, sykkuno, corpse, and bretman but also dream, george, and karl. “who else are we waiting for?” you asked, noticing the 9/10 on the bottom of the among us screen. as you asked that you heard a very loud scream coming from your headphones. you winced at the sound but soon heard a “i have arrived!” coming from the same voice that did that very loud screech. “nice of you to finally join us quackity,” karl said. you recognized the voice as soon as you heard him say ‘i have arrived’ and your eyes went big. you muted yourself in the discord call and talked to your chat. “holy shit chat, it’s quackity. like quackity the guy i’ve been SIMPING over for the past few months, holy shit.” you said, very surprised to see your favorite minecraft streamer in the same among us lobby as you. 

you unmuted and heard rae say, “surprise shawty!” and you immediately knew that she planned this. “who are we surprising?” george asked. “(y/n) is a very big fan of one of you guys.” poki said in a teasing voice. “oh who is it?” dream asked, sounding very curious. “it’s actuall-” you cut sykkuno off. “ah ha ha, *cough* *cough* *cough*, you guys, let’s start the game. ah ha my chat has been waiting for like an hour now.” “(y/n) bitch, you trying to change the subject?” bretman asked you. “oo now i’m curious too.” quackity said. you started blushing and your chat started teasing you. “mm i have no idea what you’re talking about bret, i just don’t want my lovely chat to keep waiting for this game. they’ve been looking forward to it as soon as they knew you would be in it. you know? bretman rock? singer, songwriter, actor, actress, athlete, activist, a scientist on the motherfucking side, the star of crystal of the day, and a coconut connoisseur. the baddest bitch out.” you said, hopefully distracting him from the previous topic. “okay bitch, just because you know i’m the baddest in this lobby; you’re off the hook.” everyone started laughing and as soon as it died down, dream screamed, “let’s get this game started!” rae then started the game and your adventure began.

the screen in front of you displayed “crewmate” and you were off to do your first task. you met up with sykkuno at the swipe card task and said “hey sykkuno!” he got startled and said, “oh! hey (y/n), swiping your card too?” “yessir! you know sykkuno, my chat always tells me to tell you that you should stop covering your smile whenever you laugh or smile in general and i agree with them. you have a very nice smile and you should show the world your pretty face.” you smiled. he laughed awkwardly, “oh thanks, (y/n)! i’ll- i’ll think about that. well. i’m off to my next task, bye (y/n)!” you bid goodbye to him as well and made your way toward electrical to find dream there alone. “oo dream, did you just hop out of that vent?” you asked, very much joking because he was on the 1 2 3 task, quite far away from the vent. “(y/n). are you serious? i am so far away from the vent! and you’re gonna sus me?” he said, faking offence. “well i don’t know. you do look sus just standing there for so long.” you said, putting up with the bit you guys were doing. “well what if you’re the one that hopped out of the vent? i had my task open and didn’t see you come in, why don’t you just kill me huh, (y/n)? kill me (y/n)!” you guys both started laughing and while you were in your fit of laughter, a body was called. 

“oo what are you guys laughing about?” george asked. “oh nothing. dream was just peer pressuring me to kill him.” he laughed even harder and said, “i was not peer pressuring you! you were sussing me and i was just sussing you just as much!” you laughed a little more and commented, “you know dream, you have a really pretty voice, it’s very comforting.” “oh my god! is dream the guy you’re a big fan of?” karl asked, thinking he made the biggest discovery on earth. “it actually isn’t” poki said, making karl quiet down. 

“anyways. who the fuck killed bretman?!” you asked, lowering your voice to sound more intimidating and finally looking at the screen to see bretman dead. your friends started laughing and corpse said, “i last saw him in o2 with quackity.” which made you a little embarrassed but you kept up with your act. “quackity, i swear to god if you killed the baddest bitch in this lobby you’re dead first whenever i’m imposter.” faking the same deep voice. quackity had started staggering his breath into his mic but finally let out, “i left him there and went to comms, it wasn’t me i swear!” and started to fake cry which made you let out a rambunctious laugh. “okay, okay. i believe it.” you said, still giggling a bit. “the thing is, i found his body in o2 and you were the last to see him, quackity.” rae said, still sussing quackity. “well, where was everyone?” you asked, hoping to get some sus off of him. “i know dream was with me in electrical.” sykkuno was in cafeteria, george and karl were in reactor, rae was obviously in o2 where she found bretman’s body, corpse was in lower engine, quackity in comms and poki was in admin. none of you really had any other susses other than quackity but you all decided to skip since it was only one kill and someone definitely could’ve vented into nav or something.

you started humming the tune to jesus in la by alec benjamin while on your way to electrical to finish your download. you then ran into corpse and started a conversation with him. “hi hi corpse!” and he responded with his signature, “what up baby” you giggled and replied, “my chat goes crazy every time you say that,” he laughed and asked, “if i say it more often do you think they’ll donate?” you laughed very loudly and said, “if they do, i’ll give you half of the donos” you guys both laughed and walked out of electrical to admin together and stayed together majority of the round till the lights got called. “corpse we have to stick together and don’t get gotted.” you said. but somehow along the way to electrical you lost him and just went straight to fix the lights. once you got there, sykkuno was already standing at the light panel but not fixing the lights. “sykkuno, why aren’t you fixing the lights?” you asked him. “oh i was, i just got here, haha.” he said, playing it off. as soon as you hit the last light switch, a body was called and it was dream. you looked to see that corpse and george also died.

“you guys kill bretman then you kill corpse?! who is the one to come face my wrath!” you said with an angry face that chat would probably screenshot or clip. everyone in the lobby started laughing and you held your serious face. “i’m not joking. i was with corpse until the lights got called then we got separated in storage. once i find out which one of you killed them, you better sleep with one eye open.” everyone started laughing even harder and even you cracked a small smile hearing all of them. “well i hate to say it but, i did see sykkuno last with dream.” poki said. “wha-what do you mean? i was in electrical fixing the lights right (y/n)? and i left dream near the beginning of the round” sykkuno replied. “i only saw you once i got there and you were taking a long time to fix them.” you said, hoping that you caught one of the killers. “but i told you that i just got there a few seconds before you.” he said in disbelief, thinking telling you that would help him. “you could’ve lied, sy,” you said, pulling out the nickname you had for him. “what?! me lie to you? i would never.” he said. “mm, he’s lying! he raises his voice a bit when he lies.” rae said, pointing out one of his tales. “that is true.” poki said, agreeing with what rae pointed out. “i can’t believe you would lie to me, sy!” you said. “just for that, i’m voting you.” you continued. “but we’re on 7! we don’t vote on 7,” rae said. “oops.” you said.

karl, and poki all voted with you on voting sykkuno out, leaving rae and quackity voting to skip but he ended up getting sent out of the airlock because sykkuno voted himself, thinking everyone would skip. you had hoped you really did get one of the impostors.

by this time you ended up just going by yourself and finishing your tasks. you haven’t seen anyone so you decided to go to security to spy on cams. no one was passing through until you saw quackity and he entered security and you both started talking. “hi quackity!” you said, very enthusiastic to be talking to your favorite mc streamer. “hi (y/n). how’s it going?” he asked. “well i can’t find anyone, no one has passed by the cameras other than you.” you said with your voice dripping in disappointment. “do you think we should go out and look for someone?” you asked. “no, we should just stay here and talk! we haven’t talked at all the whole game.” he said. “mm that’s true. so did you finish all your tasks?” you asked him. “no, BUT i do have a question for you ms. (y/n).” he said. you heart started beating faster, very anxious to hear what he had to ask. you hummed for him to continue and he asked, “who’s the guy you’re simping for?” you felt like your heart stopped but what you didn’t see was that he was blushing and reading his chat. “chat! i’m not simping! (y/n) is just very attractive, okay? there’s nothing i can do about that!” he said making a ‘>:(’ face, thinking he was muted. “you think i’m attractive?” you asked very shyly. “i- uh- what do you mea- i have no- what?” he stuttered and immediately killed you out of embarrassment. your screen then showed “defeat” and you gasped very loudly. 

“quackity! what the fuck? i fucking knew it was you sykkuno!” everyone started laughing and you heard a ding coming from discord. you saw it was a private message to you from quackity.

quackity: yeah, i do think you’re really attractive ;)

“quackity, you simp! i can’t believe you killed me because of that. you could’ve just told me. i think you’re really attractive too and i’d like to get to know you off stream.” you said, giving a big smile only your chat could see. “awe! (y/n)’s smiling really big! look at their stream!” rae cooed. you covered your face and heard a dono for $50 from quackity, how about we go on a date ;). “i’d like that quackity.” you said in the vc call. “you can call me alex.” he said, smiling and blushing, and his chat teasing him.

-------

after hearing you and dream flirt in the meeting, quackity was determined to kill dream out of jealousy. once he did he heard you and corpse in electrical, staying a distance away and following you both but close enough to hear you and see you with his impostor vision. he called lights and made sure you wouldn’t be able to see him once he killed corpse.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Unspoken

Summary: Dean is cursed with the inability to speak unless a cure can be found. It begins to wear on him in more ways than one...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language

“Stay down,” said Dean, aiming his gun at the witch.

“Why don’t you shut up,” she said, throwing something at Dean. You both shot and she was dead like that but Dean had a hand on his throat, turning to you with a bit of panic in his eyes.

“Dean!” you said, expecting him to start gasping that he couldn’t breathe but it never came. Dean only continued to claw at his throat, opening his mouth and staring at you. “What’d she do?”

You watched him move his lips and even his tongue but not a whisper came out, no sound at all. He looked like he was trying to shout but there was nothing, Dean spinning around.

“You can’t talk?” you asked, Dean nodding as he found a piece of paper and a pen, jotting something down quick.

Can breathe. No talking though. Find spellbook.

“Alright. You look down here. I’ll take upstairs.”

About an hour later, Dean was poking his head in a room, tossing a notebook at you before walking away.

Found it. Doesn’t mention anything. I dealt with the witch. I grabbed the book so let’s go home. Maybe Sam can figure it out.

“Well, I’m sure this will be an enjoyable drive home.”

“Wait. So you can’t talk?” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head on his hands. “Really?”

“Yes, Sam. He’s cursed or under a spell. Help me figure this out, alright?” you said. Sam held up his hands, chuckling a little. “Sam.”

“Hey, compared to the usual crap that happens to us, at least this isn’t so bad, right? It’s not trying to kill him at least,” said Sam.

Dean sighed but gave a half-hearted smile and nodded. He waved and you followed after to the library, each one of you heading off to do your own research.

Hopefully you could find a cure soon.

Four Months Later

Sam was off on another random lead that probably wouldn’t pan out. You’d managed to find a nice and easy ghost hunt but you couldn’t even drag Dean along with you. That was your rule. It was too dangerous to bring him along when he couldn’t talk. It was strange how everything around him seemed to mute. Plates didn’t make noise when they stacked together. Chairs didn’t scrape along the floor. The shower was silent whenever he took one.

He was like a ghost. Except those made sound on occasion.

“Dean. Let’s get out of the bunker, go do something fun,” you said, poking your head in your room. Dean was nowhere to be found. You checked the garage next, Baby still parked in there, no sign of him. “Dean! Where are you?”

You hoped that didn’t make him mad. He’d been having a bad week. Worse than normal which was saying something. You knew he was reaching his breaking point even if he kept it to himself.

“Dean,” you said again, wandering to your old bedroom, finding him sat on top of the bed, staring at you when you walked in. “Baby. What-”

He tossed his little whiteboard across the room and you took a seat beside him, Dean turning his head away.

“I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a kiss. “I know this is hard and I miss talking to you. So let’s talk, okay?”

He tilted his head and moved to stand but you kept him in place.

“Maybe the conversation is going to be a bit one sided but we can still talk, can’t we?” you asked. He nodded, looking over to where he’d thrown his whiteboard. He went to grab it but you shook your head.

“What?” he mouthed. You pressed your lips to his, gently laying the two of you back. He blinked when you moved away, eyes watching your hand slide up into his hair. Your fingers ran through his stands, green eyes flickering up and back to your face. He was thinking, trying to understand as you grabbed his shoulder and moved his head, resting it closer to your own. You smiled as he kept watching you, still thinking.

“For all the things I hate about this situation, you know what I love? Whenever I tell you how amazing you are, how wonderful and good and handsome and strong and intelligent and witty and awesome you are, you can’t make that tsk noise or scoff or sigh or grumble or interrupt to tell me I’m wrong. You have to sit back and take it,” you said.

He gave you a bitch face, rolling his eyes as you kept playing with his hair. He started to nuzzle into the touch though, his face turning soft.

“I love you,” you said. He nodded and pecked a kiss on the top of your nose, big green eyes staring softly. “I know you love me too, Dean.”

He let out a silent breath of air, pulling you flush to him.

“I don’t care what happens. I’m with you,” you said.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, pressing it flat against his chest and over his heart. You felt his heartbeat and smiled.

Two Months Later

“Dean! Lunch is ready!” you shouted from the kitchen. “Bacon lettuce tomato with extra bacon for you!”

You waited a beat, no tuft of brown hair coming around the corner. You grabbed his plate and drink, carrying them out to the library where Dean was researching again.

“You want to eat in here?” you asked. Dean lifted his head and shook it, waving you over. “You don’t want bacon...okay. That’s not concerning or anything.”

He tapped his book and you set the food down, peering over his shoulder.

“A transference spell? You want to transfer it to someone else?” you asked. Dean nodded, tossing his whiteboard at you.

We can’t break it so let’s move it. Move the spell to someone it won’t affect, like someone in a coma that’s never going to wake up. You think that would work?

“Actually, that’s not a half-bad idea,” you said. “Lunch first and then we’ll see if it’s possible.”

“It was a good try,” you said that night. Dean was in the gym, smacking hits against the punching bag. “We’ll get your voice back.”

He looked around the bag, taking deep pants, hitting it once more.

“Dean,” you said, his face scrunching up as he swung again. Hard. He did it a few times, the bag bouncing around, Dean not letting up until he was breathing hard, falling down onto his butt. He shut his eyes and put his head between his knees.

You sat beside him, Dean letting you pull off his boxing gloves. You frowned when you saw he’d cut up his knuckles.

“Let’s clean this up,” you said when his breathing was more even. He followed you to the kitchen, his head low as you wiped down the cuts and dried it off. “I can’t imagine how hard this is. I can’t. But if you need to go and let your anger out, you will do it the right way. Tape up your hands next time, Ali.”

He nodded, glancing up through his eyelashes.

“What would you like for dinner?” you asked. He shrugged. “Pizza?”

“Uf,” you heard him say, both of you wide eyed. “Igaf!”

“You can talk!” you said. Dean did a fist pump and jumped up and down, his sneakers making the cement floor smack. “Sammy! I think the curse is broken!”

“Really? That’s awesome!” he shouted back, wandering into the kitchen after a moment. Dean was still making baby noises though and he was quickly frowning. “So it’s been about six months. Could have been a timing thing.”

“Yeah,” you said, staring at Dean.

“Ea,” he said, pouting. “Ea icese.”

“I have no idea what he’s trying to say,” said Sam.

“Dean,” you said.

“Ea,” said Dean, finding one of his white boards laying around.

I’m trying to say Dean Winchester. That’s all that comes out. It’s like my mouth doesn’t know how to make the sound.

“Y/N. This may sound strange but...I think I know what the witch did,” said Sam. “I read about it like, years ago.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Sam,” you said, Dean throwing up his hands.

“Infantiliccum curse. Six month initial period,” he said.

“Well what is it?”

“I think Dean is very lucky that witch only decided to mess with his voice,” said Sam. “It basically reverts whatever the witch chooses in the afflicted to become that like an infant. Babies can’t talk right? Dean couldn’t talk. The other sound thing might have been a side effect.”

“Yeah but he knows how to talk. Why-“

“Yeah, he does but this is the part Dean’s gonna be pissed about. There’s another six months before it fully wears off,” said Sam.

“Ic uns!” said Dean, his face scrunched up. “Fff mfh uc afh!”

“Pretty sure there was an f bomb in there somewhere,” you said. Dean nodded, glaring at Sam.

“Hey, I said fully reversed. Maybe now you can like, learn to talk again in the meantime,” said Sam. “Get some phrases back.”

Dean growled but he still smiled at being able to make sound.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’m sure you’ll pick it up fast.”

“I know this one’s hard,” you said about a week later, holding up a flash card.

“Owiop,” said Dean, opening his mouth wide. “Owiop. Uckin etter. I ate tat etter.”

“L’s are hard. Come on. Tongue up behind your teeth, narrow your cheeks in and drop your jaw. Lollipop.”

“Ollipop,” he said with a bit of a smile. “Oll...Lol...ipop. Loll...ipop. Lollipop. Uck it L’s. I ot tis now.”

“You want to take a break? We’ve been going all morning,” you said.

He just smiled and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said, no struggle this time.

“Been waiting a long time to hear that again,” you said, kissing him for a few long moments.

“Tank you,” he said. “Th...ank you.”

“Thank you for trying. We keep working it and you’ll be back to your old self in no time,” you said.

“Love you,” he said, kissing you again.

“I love you too, Dean. Even when you couldn’t say it, I knew baby. I always knew.”

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS.

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and jealousy clićhes.

Fluff! Fluff! Fluff!

Frenemies and dad!harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST LETS TALK! PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor.

"Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them. Harry hates her hormones. Little bitches.

Or

Y/N is carrying a baby for Harry and his girlfriend ---  but something went downhill.

//

Twinkling droplets of crystal rain pelts against the bricked road subsiding harsh noises of surrounding but a nettled groan caught everyone's attention ‐‐‐ stares turning in direction. Have you ever wanted to just disappear under a warm invisible cloak and enjoy the drollery aspects of life without worrying? Because this is what Y/N wants at the moment as she stands under the bus stop shelter with few people beside her and the british showers starts pouring mocking at her for not carrying an umbrella with her.

Everyone leaves when the bus didn't arrive — who remains behind's Y/N huffing and pouting wishing for rain to stop. When it didn't she muttered a 'fuck it' before risking catching a cold and stepping under the pitter patter with her books atop her head for less damage.

Trying to punch in the passcode of society's gate with shivery fingers perhaps it opens before that startling her wet-y self. Similar car drives near her and a head pops in from inside with his big goofy smile and crinkles by his charming eyes, "Ni!" She exclaims pushing away the drippy hair sticking to her lips with her pinky.

"Pet you're gonna catch a cold. Want me to drop ya?" Niall kinda yells over the rain's loudness. She sighs fog whirling infront of her. Shoves her hand in her trench coat's pocket to seek for heat instead it's all icky and drenching.

"No it's just a tiny walk away. I'll manage — call me will tell ya how my class went." She waves him looking at him from her shoulder while rushing away towards the most elegant house in the block. Niall gives her a thumbs up from before getting out of sight and she tries to hop over the puddles of water to make it to doorsteps.

The water she brings from outside pooling at the dark timber floor - it trails behind her past the pink door as she rushes jumpy-ly where the most hot's in the house and apparently it's more than she expected, "ouch. ouch my eyes!!" She screams covering them at the sight of Harry butt naked pinning his girlfriend against the wall near fire place. Her face turning into a tomato at the horrendous raid but she seems pissed and well . . displeased that Y/N ruined a mind boggling orgasm for her.

Before, they could disattach from eachother to unravel their humiliation Y/N jogged up to attic into the guest room slamming her forehead against the door to knock away the embarrassment. She always barges in Harry's house without announcing but sometimes she forgets he isn't alone everytime his girlfriend comes to live by every two weeks (it's his fault too that he never locks the main door as anytime anyone's coming at his place). Changes into clothes she forgets at her visits, tries to dry her hair with a towel that no-more smells like Harry but expensive fabric softeners and has a pep talk for a minute to show herself down infront of them.

Instinctive voices coming from the Kitchen and she pads towards it. They act like nothing happened. Like Harry wasn't dick deep into Chessie moments ago. Harry ushers her to barstool and hands her a cuppa tea moving on with a kiss to her head. It still gives her butterflies even though how many sense awakening scoldings she gave to herself at 3 ams.

"'M sorry." She squeaks with a wavering smile wrapping her palms around the mug. Harry cackles softly brushing the underbelly of his nose as Chessie cordinated the cutlery drawer, "'s okay moppet. we finished our business when ye' left." Y/N almost choked on her hot beverage gulping it down when Chessie shocked gasp throwing little socksies that were laying ontop of the counter at Harry. Are those of toddler? Adam's out of town so there's no way it could be his daughter's socks. Maybe Chessies's one of friend's?

"Should've called me t' pick y'up. Niall was loafin' around too —- wear it you're turnin' blue, pet." He comes back with a swarmy chunky knitted sweater Anne gifted him at his birthday handing it to Y/N and sitting opposite of her pulling Chessie with her wrist into his lap clearing his throat to bring Y/N's attention back from eyeing the socks on the floor. Her eyes flicker between them chest tightening at the love and glow that radiates from Harry when he looks at her.

No. She's not jealous. Mightyyyy bit yeah –- cause she could never be this lucky to have someone as Harry. He's the most caring towards her since ten years been her compass to the home she wanted, her anchor saving her from sinking and the sixth sense of a blind to her. In fact she thinks he's her soulmate and not every soulmates needs to be romantically involved some could watch them growing beautiful in love. Y/N's doing it. Admiring the maturity of his life with the person that truly makes him enough---or she thinks so.

"How was ye'r meditation class?" Harry asks (she took a semester off as she was unable to haul the burden'; Harry convinced her how her health should be her first priority) breaking a cookie in two giving half of it to Chessie who thanks him with a kiss in return, "Was good been feelin' great!" She chirps pulling the sleeves of the sweater that's drenched in cinnamon vanilla-y smell with lingers of what comes of as Chessie's scent. She assumes they cuddled shit loads.

To subside the gnaw in her brain down she finally asks the question pointing at the sock that nobody gave a heed to pick up, they stop chewing looking at eachother to come up with something. Chessie's face distressed knowing Harry wouldn't hide it from Y/N. He tells her everything and sometimes it could be too personal to share.

"Erm. . I bought 'em — 'cos. . " Harry stammers and Y/N smacks her hand atop her mouth avoiding from giving a shocked reaction, "Oh my goodness ye' guys are pregnant!?" It was enough to make Chessie flinch and hike down Harry's lap.

"No! 'S not what ye'r thinkin'." He shakes his head making Y/N confused. "Then you bought it fo' your fingers? Cause that's the only body part it could fit." She teases him to break through the insight tension around and he chuckles shaking his head grabbing Chessie's hand rubbing her knuckles how he used to when Y/N's anxious and over the edge.

"We want to have a family." His words low as he looks at Chessie but she shrugs in return as 'in it is what it is'. Y/N stomach twisted at that. The thought that one day He's gonna have a family of his own and the little bubble that Y/N would be privy to made her throat dry. Because she has no-one despite Harry and he deserves the whole world not just baby keeping Y/N everytime.

"So . .? What's the problem?" She raises her brows looking between them noticing Harry's fingers fiddle with the flower tea mats, "There are complications from Chessie's side." Chessie sighs in disappointment and Y/N ponders over the idea, clocks working and spindling wildly in her mind.

"I could do that for you guys — since I took a semester off --–" She puts the offer nervously and both of their jaws went slack Harry with an adoring grin while Chessie in hitting shock. "--Erm we could go through a traditional surrogacy."

"Are you sure?" Chessie asks squeezing her shoulder and Y/N nodded taking both of their hands, "Anything for ye' guys!" Harry's eyes glossing over and he leaves his spot sprawling his arms calling for her, "Gimme a hug pet. Life saver ye're - we're gonna take care of ye." They group hug tightly and excitedly.

Sometimes actions could speak much more than words because the lies that words hold could ruin the great bondages.

. . .

They went through the medical procedure two days after Her, Harry and Chessie being guided by their acquired doc. She was nervous and sweaty but Harry's presence beside her soothed out any negativity that was building inside her brain. By womb the babies would be Harry's and Y/N but legally Chessie's and Harry. She's just wishing that everything goes alright cause that happiness of them is million worthy to her.

People might call her stupid and brainless for going through sickness, crankiness, back pains and the pain during labour just to give those babies to someone else (she's too afraid to call them her's cause she knows her emotional attachments could be very destructive) but she loves Harry and love makes you do those thingies.

At the moment she's on the toilet seat eyes bolted shut counting threes with the pregnancy test in her wavering fingers. "Please it better work." A squeal of surprise leaves her lungs when her eyes fell over the two positive lines quickly dragging her panties over she tumbled outside where everyone's waiting for her.

"You guys are pregnant!!" Sounds dumb right? She announces loudly. Harry's and Chessie's heads perked up while everyone cheered beers spilling from the rims. She flashed grins to each one of them splitting her gaze away from Harry giving Chessie a celebratory kiss.

"Thank you. Oh my god, love! Can't belive it." Harry held her from shoulders giving her a toothy smile and it puts her off that Chessie didn't say anything just a nod along Harry. "Me too." She breathes out as he leads her to sofa sitting her cautiously. "We'll visit the doctor tommorrow." He reassures popping his head from Sarah's neck as she hugged him tight.

"We're gonna have a little Y/N and Harry running and pooping it's nappies soon." Everyone went silent. A grimace on Y/N and Chessie's face. Niall doesn't know when to shut up does he? Y/N's gonna strangle him alive. Harry laughed out aloud not caring about the thick tension in room, "I'll rip ye'r hair if you'll turn me baby into a golf freak Niall." His baby.

Niall raises his hands in defence, "No guarantees Harold."

. . .

They had a check-up and Y/N indeed's pregnant. Harry's over the moon. Kissing her forehead. Thanking her for millionth time – to the point she told him to let her watch telly in peace and shut up. Chessie bringing her organic vegan dishes that Y/N isn't a fan of but eats nevertheless under Harry's stern gaze. "'S not about them only I want ye' to be healthy too, pet. Can't be selfish now can I?" He'd insist.

When she'd be sick he'd be at her side giving her back rubs while Chessie stood at the doorframe of washroom. Y/N thinks since she's pregnant her womanly instincts has gotten more sharp as she sensed something's off between the pair.

He'd be at her flat early morning waking her up to have a morning walk with him not giving in her grunts and whines. Who'd want to leave their crispy warm bed to just be out in the cold? A fool like Harry only. Making her brekkie afterwards as a reward giggling and massaging her shoulders when she'd gobble down food like a greedy squirrel, "Easy there love. 'S all yours."

Chessie's back at LA. They had a small argument because Harry wants her to be participating in all of this as much as he's. But, her priorities are not set for this. They never were.

Y/N was at Harry's place nibbling onto chocolate cupcakes Anne sent specifically for her with a note ("my grandchild shouldn't be privy to their Nana's bakin' skills all my love to Y/N." along a winky smiley) when she spilled cold milk all over her nooked tee-shirt. Harry gave her his clothes to change into and baby wipes but she warded him with a scoff that water exists. She has become more feisty with each passing day.

Was discarding the tee when her gaze fell over the sveltest of bump in the mirror taking her breath away. It makes her realize it's all real. She never touches her belly in fear if she'd she will never stop. Now, when the pads of her fingers skim alongs the skin it strips shivers down her spine. She always wanted this. Not in this scenario though. Shaking her head of the thoughts she slips Harry's hoodie over it climbing down the stairs and it causes Harry to snap his head in alert. He stops chopping the carrots spinning to see Y/N standing feet away from him.

"My baby bump's showing." Her voice almost a whisper and it widens Harry's pupils as his hands fell in air midway between them hesitant to reach her, "Can I see?" She bobs her head shyly cheeks blazing red while revealing the bump for Harry to see. It's not like he hasn't seen her before. He has. But, this's more intimate than all of that. It made him fall on his knees. He's a sensitive person in general. Pure from heart but during this period it seems like he's pregnant not Y/N which's quite amusing too.

"She's beautiful." His gaze full of adoration. "She?" Y/N furrows her brow with a smile. He bobbed his head with a grin, "Think so our baby's gonna be she." Now that's the problem cause Y/N doesn't know which ours he's talking about.

"My pregnancy instincts says it's he." He scoffs, "Bet!?" She rolls her eyes forwarding her fist to do the hand shake they do while betting, "If you loose your pink macbook gonna be mine." They solid the deal with their traditional shake.

"Can I touch it?" Harry's asks politely. When she gives him permission he spreads his warm palms flat against her tummy tongue tied with the affection boozing in his veins for the baby that's not out in the world yet. Y/N eyes flutters and her fingers twitches by her sides from carding them into his hair. This's wrong she scolds herself. Her hormones all over the place.

"You wanna send a picture to Chessie?" At this his lips thinned and he gave her a curt nod standing up to fetch his phone, "Sure. But she might be busy..." on the verge of spitting his words in vile.

. . .

Y/N was reading a crime mystery book. Stroking the side of her baby bump carelessly. Cosy in her blanket hoodie telly murmuring in the distance. "Your dad's taste in books is shit, innit?" She peers down with a smile. It's the first time she's talking to them. "We'll read loads of good books together so that when you'll grow up – I could know what to gift you on Christmas." She tries to grab more popcorns from the bowl but it's empty. "Wanna be best aunt out there!!"

"Will you miss me? As much as I'll when we'll be separated?" Tears well up at her waterline. She huffs through her nose running her hand down her belly several times. It's coming; the breakdown she was toiling for days. "I know it sucks I cant be your mommy." Her cravings kicking in and all she want's a strawberry oreo icecream.

"Oh no. Seriously? I'm sad and ye' lil bean want an ice? Let's call your daddy and see what he got." She rings him and he picks up on the third one. Voice groggy from the sleep. She wants to feel bad but she isn't when all her taste buds could think of is strawberry flavour.

"'M cravin' strawberry ice-cream bad. . . Is it possible for ya to bring one?" He's already throwing duvets off his body reaching for his phone and wallet, "No worries pet I'll be there in tick."

"What the fuck Harry? It's three in the mornin'." Chessie groaned from beside him throwing pillow at her face. "We already stored her fridge with alot of food — " She squints about to change the side.

"She's carrying a baby for us Chess. Ye should know better since ya didn't wanted to." She sits up like bullet folding her arms against her chest.

"Thank you for throwing it at my face, H." He doesn't even spare her a glance walking outside and Chessie wants to scream at the top of her lungs. Why did she even agreed to this?

. . .

When he bought her ice-cream she throws herself in his arms kissing his cheek and he giggled in return feeling good when her bump pressed against him. They ate ice-cream with a bantering mess discussing names of the babies, the one that Chessie and Harry decided, him telling her about the little onesies they bought hearing that Y/N stood up taking out a little bag from the chests of drawers.

"I hope you wouldn't mind." She mutters showing him the lil knitted gloves and Harry slid his palm above her's wrapping them snugly, "I don't want ye' to think ya can't love on 'em 'cos after all it's ye'r womb they belong too." Her lip wobbles at his words and she stuffs her face against his chest fisting the hem. It fred away butterflies inside Harry. He sucka his lip. He shouldn't be acting like this. He has a girlfriend that he's gonna have a baby with. They're happy or atleast he thinks so.

They've been bestfriend for years and those feelings never drowned him. Is it because now she's having his babies? Maybe? Harry tries to convince himself.

When he looks down Y/N's drooling onto his shirt deep into slumber. He pecks her hair slipping his arms under her to hold her firmly against his chest. Laying her on the bed tucking her under blankets.

. . .

It sounds like multiple thuds as doctor hovered the ultrasound device over her gelled cover belly. Her belly growing way faster than it should. Her gaze glued at the ceiling fingers crossed. Harry and Chessie holding hands tight gazes fixed at the screen both of them confused at the disoriented image. They all were on the edge of their seats waiting for their turns. Y/N wished that someone could give her a huge warm hug to soothe her nerves down. But, in the first place she shouldn't be worried about the gender as it's none of concern but theirs. It's getting hard day by day.

"It's twins!" Doctor announces chirply getting a wave of silence in return. But, soon the room filled with happy giggles and gasps of Harry as he went to hug Chessie who's expressionless from shock. Y/N pouts wishing it was her. Smiling at doctor when she squeezed her hand in consolation. She's frightened though. How could she deliver two babies? To deal with the roughness that comes along them? Gonna be pretty hectic.

"We hit a jackpot, innit?" He grins down at her kissing Chessie's cheek last time before leaning down to hug her. "Gonna be super carin' with ye' now." Y/N gives a pat to his back in return awkwardly eyeing as Chessie left the room hastily.

. . .

It rakes against the wood harshly as Chessie glided keys of Harry's house towards him without a word. He puts the baby guide book aside arching his brow, "I can't do this anymore. I want an out." Dread. Seeping down Harry's bones.

Guarding himself down he grits, "What do ya mean you want an out? We agreed with full consent of yours Chessie." She shakes her head furiously.

"I didn't sign up for two of 'em Harry I could barely be there for one!!" He puts his elbows on his knees head lowering, "But you wanted to have a family with me didn't ye'?" His eyes tearing and she throws her head back in annoyance finding it difficult to make him understand.

"No. No – No. You wanted a family! Because of your continuous protests I gave in. Told you I wasn't ready for all of this bullshit now we are here." She emphasises. Harry stands up from his seat towering her pointing a finger at her.

He's rageous. Could burn this house down. How could she be so mean? Cowarding back at the last moment.

"Don't call it bullshit." He spits full of venom for the woman he mighty love and she snaps her head other way, "Congrats she finally ruined us and couldn't be more happy – now that she's having your mother fuckin' babies." He stumbles back knocking the coffee table lungs congesting.

"Don't drag her in all of this she's innocent." She laughs ironically looking him square in eyes yelling like a maniac, "Gave her your sperms now you can't hold back from fucking her. I knew it. You were fucking her behind my back weren't you?" She thinks of him like that? A cheater? He loved her and she always thought he was cheating her.

"Don't yell. I don't want to see ye'r cruel face when I come back home." He tries not to croak mustering strength to walk away from her. Exposing himslef to freezing weather locking himself in his car and crying his heart out. Sky crying along him. He punches the steering wheel brutally shouting "why's?" Head falling atlast as he thought of all his dreams shattering at his feet.

She caged him instead of giving him shelter. Replaced the butterflies he used to get from her with a burning hell in his pit, should've been mother of his children now she's just an ex.

The excruciating part is how he's gonna tell Y/N about this? She'll be crushed.

. . .

"Oh my god . . ." It was the roar of thunder that startled her but something else took her attention away. That tinsy kick protruding the taught skin of her belly, ". . . which one of you?" She was extra happy today. It's swimming in her head. It's just a thought but sharing it with Harry wouldn't kill someone. She wanna ask him if she could've one of the babies. It's just she's too much into the moment that she forgot she still have a degree to complete. A career to pursue and a life she always wanted.

When there's a knock at door she tries to stand up with the support of armrest a hand on her back. A gasp falling from her mouth at the sight of Harry's clothes soaked and another when he looks up with bloodshot eyes. Tears dried cheeks and heaving chest seeming utterly devastated.

"Pet what happened!?" She grabs him from elbow pulling him inside and he falls onto his knees smashing his cheeks against her showing tummy -- a sob recking through him, "Harry you're scarin' me. Tell me what happened is everything okay?"

"Chessie don't want these babies - sh-she didn't wanna ruin her career but atlast agreed . . . n-n now she doesn't want 'em 'n wants an out." He stutters. White noise deafening Y/N's ears and she steps back with expressions as if she's scared. Horrified of the future.

"It means she never had complications? She just didn't wanted her body to go through all of this." When Harry didn't fill in to her inquiry she flopped onto sofa from the shock shoving her face into her palms giving out a cry of hurt at her stupidity.

"God. I'm such an idiot!" He shakes his head crawling towards her with sad eyes and lil hiccups, "No please don'tcha say that. We'll figure it out yeah? Never wanted this t'happen." God. How bad he wants her to assure him that it'll be alright.

"You'll figure out what, huh!? Leaving them just like she did!?" Swear Harry felt a dagger jabbing it's way into his heart more upsetting tears spilling down his throat. "I hate you guys. They're none of your babies from now on. . ."

"Leave." She orders him wiping her tears roughly with the sleeve of her jumper. Running out of breath with each sniffle. Raises her hand stopping him to step forward and protest, "I said leave before I make you!!" He nods inhaling breath of remorse looking at the ceiling for a second then to her.

"Before, that want ya t'know. I still want 'em. They're mine. How could I not? love 'em. Hope ya'll forgive me." Then it's just sobs of Y/N taking over the buzz of telly as the door ticks. He didn't leave though. He's too afraid to. His back sliding against her door knees closing against his chest letting it all dawn upon him. His green luscious orbs hooding with sadness and the fluff of his curls.

Dunno if Y/N would be able to forgive him.

. . .

He woke up to a boot nudging to his thigh squinting up to find Niall stating down at him with consoling eyes. Poor Harry slept in the hallway. His neck sore and limbs stoned.

"Heard it 'lad. Was suspicious with Chessie long way." He helps Harry stand up patting his shoulders, "Y/N called ye'?" He grogs rubbing his eye with knuckles. When Niall confirms he quips with pleading eyes in a low whisper knowing he'll get his hair ripped if that furious little mama bunny will find him outside.

"Ye' think she'll forgive meh?" Niall chuckles to light up the situation, "'course H. Do ya think our pet's that ruthel—" He bites his tongue. Harry's gaze following the snap of his neck when the door opened revealing Y/N in a lilac chunky sweater. Puffy eyes and swollen lips. Harry feeling like a dickhead at her condition. It's all his fault. Then their eyes fall at the piping hot cuppa of tea in her hand.

With a stoic face she hands it to Harry and pulls Niall inside slamming the door at curly boy's face. So, she knew he was there sharing a door with her the whole night.

. . .

"Isn't it a good thing thou, love?" Niall smiles. He's chill in all of this. Watching it unwrap. They were meant for eachother Niall thinks so, "You wanted one of 'em and ended up havin' a whole bean can." She groans throwing her peach plushie at his chest. A smile swirming up her lips at his silly statement now that she's more stable less sad.

"You're the absolute worst, Ni!" He holds her cold hands tugging her close to make her look, "Want ya to forgive H. He did nothin' wrong, pet." When she pouts ruffling the silk strands of her rug with her feet he grabs her chin.

"Remember how happy he was? Don't go mad on him yeah?" She bobs her head not meeting his gaze. Meanwhile, there's knock at the door and Niall takes it laughing to himself softly at the box of doughnuts with a note.

"What is it?" He's already flopping beside her hooking his nimble finger around the white doughnut with rainbow sprinkles, "If I'd have known pregnant ladies gets treated this way. Would be havin' one baby every year." She smacks him in belly and unlatches the note reading it with a sucked lip.

Ye'r antenatal class's tommorrow. Don't forget to take ye vitamins :)

How gentle, calm and optimistic Harry could be needles her some.

. . .

Harry's waiting for her in the car fiddling with the radio. He isn't gonna lie. He's been going through a heartbreak. To cope with it he wants to accompany Y/N in her parent craft classes. When she waddles towards his car cosied up in a yellow baggy sweater and a cardigan Harry remembers she stole from him ages ago he mighty scrunched his nose in adoration at her cuteness.

Her nose pink and cheeks flushing as she slips into her seat, "Can you stop bringin' me stuff. I know how to take care of myself." She nips at him when he forwards her a kale smoothie. He doesn't seem to mind. Both, of them knows very well she's trying to avoid drinking it. She finds it yucky!

"Wanna take care of ya'll is all." He mumbles putting it in her side's cup holder. Ya'll .She regrets it instantly. Damn his puppy eyes!

. . .

"Mr. Styles and . . . Miss Y/N." The instructor calls them and they both raises their hand awkwardly as if in elementary school. "You're the parents of twin right?" She asks. Y/N wanted to say that their supposed to be parent ran off from the fear. But, she couldn't. Could never. It'll be like rubbing salt to his wounds. Bestfriends don't do that shit even in their most anger.

"Yes." She confirms. When Harry didn't. Scared if he might say something wrong. "Ok then! Lay your mats n' have a seat." Harry guides her with the little of his hand on her back. Her shoulder nudging his taut chest, and goosebumps pimples at her skin when his fingers brushes the side of her belly as he helps her sit down.

She takes an all rounder of the room and none of the parents looks like they're here to prepare for war unlike them. She shyly waves at the two mothers beside her and Harry twinges his lip equally flustered as her.

They start with relaxation and breathing exercises. Telling Y/N to let herself loose in Harry's arms. She fumbles with the hem of her sweater when his fingers gingerly winked at her sides and the lull of his breath hit her earlobe.

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor. "Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. He hates her hormones little bitches.

It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them.

. . .

"Are you hungry?" He asks turning the heat on knowing how cold her feet could get in the span of seconds. She huffs trying to buckle her belt and it squirms a fond smile out of him at her cute effort to be put in place due to her bump. If he'd coo. She'd rip him into tiny bits. It's better if he gazes away.

"Does it mean emptying your pocket?" She arches her brow sinking into her seat. "Bitso. . " He chuckles softly drumming at the steering wheel.

"Then I'd love to." She adds with a smirk. Clasping her hands atop her heart outta excitement. It makes him shake his poof of hickorey curls at her silliness.

They end up taking a takeout of onion loaded cheese burgers. Greasy fries. An iced-tea and a box of cookies from Babara's shop a block away from Harry's house.

"Wanna choose fo' ye'rself?" He asked her before going inside and she denied with a worried expression. Not knowing how she'll explain all of this to Babara who's her one of the good friends from UNI. Harry respects that. If she isn't ready to talk about it he isn't gonna pressurize her. They've been dodging the serious talk since she let him take to parental classes. Knows one day or another they've to decide how it's all gonna work.

. . .

Good food can make you more high than actual drugs. Licking their fingers off now they feel all sleepy and lazy sitting on the comfortable sofa watching telly with hooded eyes.

Harry's cheek smushed adorably against her baby bump ears tuned into what his babies are talking about.

"You know what? 'S not about winners or loosers. Bu' I won." She bubble hiccups slumping deeper with sugar rush hitting her. "Huh? Harry mumbles eyes drooping. The cotton balls of snowflakes glittering outside, collecting at the window and foging them up.

"I get to have babies of my bestfriend and this nice foodddd — 'n what did Chessie got? No babies and no happy feeling of being their mother." Harry shots up from his snooze blinking up at her and she quickly takes it back regret eating her alive, "'m sorry it slipped."

"No!!" He almost shouts cupping her cheeks making her look at him. His dimples deeps that someone could scoop them like an ice-cream. He gives her an eskimo kiss that makes her veins run with glittery blood.

"I wan' ye' to be the mother of me babies." No hesitation. No dithering. Just him asking for the tinsy bit of her heart. For her forgiveness. For the love they've kept blind eye for years. "We'll figure this out, yeah?" He murmurs their lips brushing and breaths kissing. Pulling back with a forehead kiss.

She lives for forehead kisses makes her shallow tin heart explode with glittery firecrackers.

She nods to give him the affirmation that she wants what he wants.

.

[imagine-nation20]

Sunshine and The Art of Picking Your Battles

Summary: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Requested By: Anon

Request: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.” for Jason Todd (with the reader being kidnapped by any villain you want)

A/N: Jason Todd will forever and always be the best robin and I will not take criticism. Also I love writing established relationship with superheroes where one doesn’t know the other is a vigilante, so enjoy some reader having no sense of self preservation, and Jason outing himself as the red hood.

~~~

You hated Gotham. Or rather, you hated the criminal underbelly of Gotham, which wasn’t so much an underbelly as it was a very obvious toupee on the top of the head of the city. Gotham was built on crime, and it would probably crumble under the weight of crime. Most people who lived there were either involved in crime, or involved in the vigilante justice served by the masked crusaders.

Running a bar in Gotham was bad, running a bar in the crummy part of Gotham was worse. That is, if you could claim any part of Gotham wasn’t crummy.

Still, it was a better job than some of the other options. Who could blame the owner of the place appointing you manager and fucking off to his apartment in the only part of Gotham that could afford working deadbolts.

So it was no wonder that you got jumped on your way home after a particularly grueling shift.

Three men dressed in suits too nice for the area. It was pretty much common sense to learn some form of self defense if you were going to live in a city like Gotham, however, three against one wasn’t exactly fair odds.

They tied your wrists, dropped a bag over your head, and then hit you with something heavy and blunt that was probably going to leave permanent damage.

Waking up was a headache, to say the least. Your head pounded like a drum, the blood rushing through your ears sounding like the waves against the harbor. Or maybe that really was the harbor.

It didn’t really matter, because you had a bigger problem to worry about than whether or not the ‘whooshing’ in your ear was blood or water. 

A man, dressed in an expensive suit, stood a few feet away. His head was covered in the dark, slightly shiny material of a mask, shaped like a skull. Beady eyes peered through, staring you down.

“So, what is a bartender like yourself doing associating with the Red Hood?” Roman Sionis was easily recognizable, and his identity was not a secret to the citizens of the city. He seemed almost proud to lord the fact that everyone knew who he was, but couldn’t put him away for anything tangible.

Unless of course that person was Batman or one of his many disciples.

“What the fuck are you on about?” You slurred. You cursed yourself internally for your inability to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time you were okay, but you were tired, and in pain, and this was the third time this week you had been assaulted, so you were over it. Criminals and crime lords were a dime a dozen, and despite his very intimidating reputation, you could not care less about Black Mask.

He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I’m talking about the fact that I have on good word that Red Hood has been in your shitty little bar almost every night for the past week.”

You were going to kill Kallista.

You avoided associating with vigilantes, but your coworker, and the woman who worked most night to day shifts, was known for giving vigilantes free drinks when they dropped in. Now, it seemed you had been mistaken for her. Serves you right for having the audacity to pick up her shift when she was sick.

You had seen a few of them drop in on your way out, but never Red Hood. She probably told him not to catch you, since you would have reemed her for it. Red Hood wasn’t a criminal, but he was known for incurring their wrath like no one else, and that usually ended up in situations like this.

Yes, Kallista was going to die… so long as you made it out of this.

“Listen pal,” you started, glancing around the room for a way out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You weren’t a bad friend, and you certainly weren’t going to sick Roman Sionis on your friend. Even if she did get you in this situation in the first place.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He yelled, taking quick steps towards you. You winced back, hearing the flick of a switchblade, and feeling the cold press against your cheek.

“Listen, if I was associating with the Red Hood, I would have told you by now.”

“For some reason, I just don’t believe you.”

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice echoed through the warehouse. From above, you could see the familiar brown leather jacket, and bright red helmet of the Red Hood. He was reclined against a support beam, legs dangling off the one he was sitting on. “I’m going to be honest with you, I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”

Hopping down from the beam, he landed, knees bent, feet light. It was almost impressive, the way he could silently drop. If you weren’t so tired, you might have taken the time to marvel at the way his pants bunched and stretched. Kallista was right after all, there was a certain appeal to the vigilantes in uniform.

Roman shifted around you, knife going to your neck. You took in a sharp breath, glaring at the Red Hood as he faltered in his pace.

“Take another step and she dies,”

“I was gonna say thanks for coming, Hood,” You glared, “but you’ve kinda made the situation worse.”

You could almost see the tick of annoyance through the mask. His fists clenching slightly, he grumbled, “This is the thanks I get?”

“I’ll thank you when I don’t have a knife to my jugular.”

Black Mask tightened his grip on you, knife digging in a slight bit. You didn’t think it had pierced skin yet, but you couldn’t be sure. 

The next few seconds seemed to go by in an instant. The shattering of glass, the whizzing of something through the air, the knife nicked your neck, then was gone, and so was the grip of Roman Sionis.

Red Hood moved towards you, gloved hands untying the ropes that kept you bound to the chair. You looked to the side, seeing Black Mask passed out on the ground, a strange arrow sticking to the outside of his helmet. You could have sworn you saw little strings of electricity still moving over the black material.

The masked vigilante hoisted you from the chair, his arms slipping behind your back and beneath your knees.

“Seriously?” You deadpanned, “I can walk, you know. My legs aren’t broken.”

It didn’t seem like he cared, as he scoffed, “I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“I didn’t think heroes were so egotistical.”

“Not really a hero, sunshine,” you could hear the smile in his voice, even through the strange effect his helmet gave off. You went stiff at the name.

Jason faltered mid step, and you knew you had him. Spewing a flurry of curses, you wriggled out of his hold and onto the gravel below. The rocks bit into your skin, and Jason moved to crouch and help, but you were already up and slapping at his arm.

“You son of a bitch, Jason,” you whisper shouted, “you’re so stupid. How long have you been the- no, I don’t want to know.”

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t you sunshine me, Todd,” you growled, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a fucking vigilante? And moreover, you were getting free drinks from my coworker while she ranted to me about your thighs?”

“What?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “No, no, I wasn’t… I was looking out for you! I was trying to make sure you got home safe! What about my thighs?”

You paused, mouth hanging open. You hadn’t known Jason for very long. He had come in during one of your shifts with a busted lip and a dazzling smile, and left with your number and the promise of a date. You should have guessed back then, if you were being honest, but you believed him when he said he had gotten jumped. Maybe he had been telling the truth, just not the whole truth.

Stalling so that you didn’t give in to his guilty look so easily, you glanced around. So it had been the ocean you were hearing. You turned back around, trying and failing to hold the vicious glare.

“You better have a ride back to my apartment, cause we are about to have a long talk about impulse control, honesty, and the art of picking battles.”

“You sound like my dad.”

Silence.

“OH MY GOD IS BRUCE WAYNE-”