#But I just wanted the one woman on the show to have friends

[ramp-it-up]

Fade to Love

Summary: You and Bucky go way back. Way back to when you acted together 20 years ago. You had a crush on him then, but you were too young. Tragedy and artistic passion made you best friends. Will your history make you lovers?

Word count: 4.3 K

Pairing: Actor!Director!Producer! Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I've been dreaming about this ever since I got my #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Best Friends to Lovers. As always, I crave feedback, so please let me know how you feel in asks, comments, reblogs and likes. TIA! ❤️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Best friends to lovers. All of the reckless behaviors that come with growing up in Hollywood, teenage crush, small age gap, young love, tragic loss, idiots in love, cigarette smoking, mutual pining. Then comes the smut. :)

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———

This was deja vu all over again.

The paparazzi swarmed the studio as you and Bucky arrived for your meeting at the studio. After all, you'd spent your teen years under the camera’s glare, a co-star in an ensemble drama series, Idol’s Ridge, that captured the hearts of millions 20 years before. 

During those five years portraying Sophie Randall, you’d met the people who’d become your best and enduring friends. Sam Wilson, who played your older brother, Peter Randall, Carol Danvers, who played your best friend, Morgan Blair, and James “Bucky” Barnes who played Sam’s Best friend and Morgan’s older brother, Jack Blair. 

There were several other actors from the show with whom you’d remained cordial and friendly, but this was your core group. 

But today? Today was different. Today, you were meeting in a creative capacity, not just as an actress. You were going to control the narrative. 

The past twenty years had been a whirlwind. A marriage, scandal, and a career that had taken unexpected turns. You'd left the acting world long ago, but here you were again, standing next to Bucky Barnes, one of your best friends. Someone who’d been through it all with you.

Bucky, with his model handsome looks, dark hair and true blue eyes, was more than just a pretty face. His career had been varied, lucrative, and meaningful.

He was now reaching phenomenal heights. And he was the one the tabloids still associated you with, before, during, and after your marriage, even after all these years. 

The shipping of the characters was inappropriate at the beginning, but toward the end of the run when you were an adult, Idol’s Ridge fans were calling for Jack to notice Sophie, and wanted you and Bucky together, even though you never dated.

It was others pushing that narrative, always trying to create drama where there was none, not you two. 

You and Bucky were just friends.

But if you were being honest, that “what if” had been curling around your mind since you were a kid with a crush on a co-star who was too old for you. 20 to your 15 when you first started the show, Bucky didn’t spare you a second glance in a romantic capacity, but he took you under his wing and protected you, calling you his “Little Star.” 

He decided that nothing was going to ruin your innocence, lecturing you all the time about the pitfalls of fame at a young age, even as he was reveling in those pits. If he knew you wanted him to ruin you, he didn’t let on.

Bucky’s decency did nothing to sway your heart away from him. In fact, it only made him more appealing. You always had a soft spot for Bucky Barnes.

If Bucky noticed you growing up and becoming a woman, he didn’t let you know. You were always his little sidekick, not quite a sister, but definitely not a romantic interest.

Perhaps it was because his best friend, another rising star in tv and film, did. 

Steve met you briefly when he was filming in LA and hanging with Bucky. They were roommates in New York and best friends, having known each other as child actors from Brooklyn.

After he met you when he was 24 and you were 19, Steve talked about you all the time to his best friend and begged Bucky to give you his number. 

Bucky refused, citing the fact that you were not ready for the likes of Steve Rogers, the golden boy heartthrob actor who partied harder than he did. Yes, that was the reason.

On the night of your 21st birthday after Idol’s Ridge was over, you had a get together in Manhattan, because you were filming a movie in New York City. You invited Bucky who was now based out of Brooklyn, and Steve was not going to miss this opportunity to get next to you.

That night, 25 year old Steve Rogers bought you a drink, and the next morning, Bucky heard you two in the room next door, cursing his, and Steve’s, timing. The rest was tabloid history: the whirlwind romance, the young, impetuous marriage, the substances, the breakout films, the nominations, the miscarriage, the rumors, the tragedy. 

You were a widow at the age of 26, the caretaker of the legacy of one of the most talented young actors of your generation. Gone too soon.

Bucky was there for you, and you for him, feeling the loss as no one else could. When you were ready to get on with life, you and Bucky created Valkyrie Production Company as a tribute to Steve.

While you slowed your acting career way down before 30 years old, only taking on about one indie film project a year, Bucky’s career had taken off. 

He’d transitioned from actor to actor/director, and of course, actor/director/producer. You watched him get engaged to Natasha Romanov, one of the older Idol’s Ridge alums, break up, and then date a string of actresses and models, but nothing ever stuck.

You didn’t understand. He could be a bit intense, but Bucky was such a good guy. He deserved happiness. Now, he was a 40 year old single successful actor slash slash with no family to speak of but you.

“Ready to roll?” 

Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, taking a step back into the moment. You smoothed your pencil skirt down your hips, which were wider now than they were 20 years earlier. You wondered what production would think of you at 35, no surgical augmentation, just naturally you in a sea of plastic.

Bucky was the same way, his dark hair and beard peppered with gray and crows feet framing his striking eyes. But on him they were ‘sexy.’

Women were held to a different standard.

You missed Bucky appreciating your curves and your looks as you bit your lip and looked up at him with those big eyes.

Bucky’s heart clenched when you smiled at him. So fucking beautiful.

“Yeah. Let’s make magic, ” you murmured.

Bucky was a goner. 

He loved your voice since you developed the lower register of your tone. It was one thing that the critics and fans raved over in anything you did.

He chuckled at how you’d trashed his trailer when he’d tried to hide your cigarettes from you that one time. It was all for naught, since you quit 18 months after you started. 

He didn’t know that you’d just done it to hang out with him outside the soundstage door, stealing time. But it had permanently changed your voice into something that cemented your icon status in the present day, despite your limited career.

Bucky grinned that boyish grin, the same one he’d flashed a thousand times when you were on set together all those years ago. It made your heart do that little flip it always did, despite everything.

You had a meeting with the studio execs to discuss the next project, a reboot of the very series you'd starred in all those years ago, Idol’s Ridge.

It was too perfect, too full of nostalgia. But it also felt strange.

You glanced over at Bucky as he started talking to the execs. He was charismatic, confident, everything he had always been. But there was something in the way he kept glancing at you. His eyes were more intense, more aware of your every movement. 

It was unsettling, especially the premise he pitched. 

You finished up with the execs and stepped outside the back entrance for a quick break and Bucky lit up a cigarette, something you hadn’t seen him do in years. 

“You’re quiet today,” he said, leaning against the wall. You inwardly railed at him smoking again, but he was grown. You watched the smoke curl around him through narrowed eyes. Then you grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

“Don’t do that, Star…”

You raised an eyebrow at him and then inhaled, Bucky watching you closely. Too closely, you might have thought if you noticed the way he watched your mouth after you removed the cigarette.

Bucky put the cancer stick in his own mouth and closed his eyes as he took his own drag, tongue chasing the filter as he removed it to exhale. He peered at you through the smoke, licked his lips and then dropped the half smoked bone on the ground, extinguishing it with the sole of his brown Ferragamo.

“We quit.”

You laughed and leaned on the stucco wall with your hand, staring up at him while he smiled down at you. This was your thing, this unspoken language that was understood but not explicit.

You worked together, but it was always more than that. 

You were waiting for him to speak, but Bucky could always wait you out.

“James.”

You punched him on the arm. Hard. 

“Ow!”

He laughed and rubbed his arm as he looked down at his shoes, smiling.

“You can do it, Star. I believe in you.”

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname. He always told you that you were the brightest little star on the set. 

“But Bucky…”

You thought you lost it when Steve disappeared. But you couldn’t lose that feeling, so you took small roles, just to have permission to be someone else for a time.

Your films were critically acclaimed, but your confidence was shot.

“You can do it.”

You appraised Bucky. Something had shifted. Maybe it was the project, or maybe it was something more. Bucky looked right back at you, his expression softening. 

“Are you in or are you out, Star?”

“I’m in,” you said, your voice steady and sure.

He tilted his head, studying you. 

“Good. Because I need you.”

“You’ve always needed me,” you said, half-joking, half serious.

Bucky chuckled. 

“Yeah, well, this time it’s different.”

You could feel your heart pounding. He was looking at you like he’d never looked at you before. Like he was really seeing you. But you were reading too much into things again.

You took a deep breath.

“You know, I’ve always trusted you, right? With everything. You’re the only person I’ve never felt like I had to pretend with.”

You took his hand and Bucky looked down at you tangling your fingers with his. 

He should tell you. 

“I know, Buck. You’re my best friend.”

There it was. The friend zone. Bucky sighed, but held on to your hand.

“Although we didn’t talk about that one plot point.”

You released his hand and crossed your arms, pushing your breasts up in your sweater. Not that Bucky noticed that sort of thing.

Bucky looked at you, one eye closed, squinting from the LA sunlight. Or was it because you were so gorgeous? 

To you, his glance felt loaded, like there was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. But of course you tried.

“Which one?”

You smiled at his evasion.

“You know. The one where our characters are married now?”

Bucky smirked.

“We discussed this being centered around the children of the cast from 20 years ago.”

You huffed, frustrated.

“Yes, Bucky, but our characters were never a thing.”

He stood up and walked two steps toward you, into your space.

“Not true. Sophie always had a crush on Jack, but he blew you off. It’s 20 years later, he’s grown up and finally appreciates the beautiful woman who was always right there in front of him.”

You looked up into his clear blue gaze and had a scorching comeback for him.

“Oh.”

He reached for your face, palm resting on your cheek, thumb brushing at the side of your nose.

“Hold up…” 

Bucky moved even closer and brought his face close to yours, warm menthol breath hovering over your own. He pulled his hand back and looked at it, showing it to you briefly. You didn’t see anything.

“Eyelash.”

He opened the door and held it for you as you tried to get your soul back into your body.

“Break time is over.”

—--

The next hours were a blur.

The production meeting went long as you brainstormed for the reboot, and you and Bucky worked seamlessly together, bouncing ideas off each other and firing on all cylinders. The dynamic was amazing and reignited your old crush.

You went to Bucky’s LA home after the meeting, excited at the preliminary greenlight for the project. You both decided to work on an outline that weekend to deliver to the studio Monday morning.

You’d gone home to pack a bag and get your essentials, as Bucky said you could bunk in one of his guest rooms. 

It would be like a sleepover with one of your girlfriends, sweet, innocent and fun.

But after eating takeout tacos from Leo’s, you got to work in Bucky’s home office, and the vibe was thriving, but different. Every time your hands brushed as you passed papers or exchanged a glance, it was electric.

The air arced between you, but you couldn't tell if it was just you, or if Bucky felt it too. 

As you sat looking at the whiteboard with the preliminary outline of the pilot episode, Bucky leaned back in his chair and regarded it, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“This shit is fucking brilliant. It’s going to be better than the original.” 

You looked at him, excitement coursing through you. You smiled at him and got up to walk behind his chair to lean on it and admire your ideas, as if you could see better what he meant from his perspective.

“I can’t believe it’s really happening.” 

You leaned down and whispered in his ear, afraid to voice it too loud. Bucky swiveled around in his chair to look at you. You were still in your outfit from this morning, too excited when you pack to change into something more comfortable. You looked gorgeous. 

He stood up and grabbed your hands in his.

“Better believe it, Star, we’re going to do this thing big.”

You squeezed his hands back and looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. Bucky’s hands were on your arms now and he was drawing you closer.

“Couldn’t do this without you, Star. I love… working with you.”

Your stomach flipped as he murmured at you. You inhaled the spice of his cologne and savored his touch while listening to his voice.

But your stomach dropped when you heard the ‘L’ word and you didn’t know what happened; just like Sophie and Jack all those years ago, you didn’t know what came over you when you pressed your lips to Bucky’s.

You had every intention of ending the contact before it began, but Bucky’s hands were now in your hair and tugged you close. He turned and lifted you onto his desk, stepping between your thighs, pressing them wide enough so that your skirt fought the movement.

It only made everything hotter. 

Bucky used his hold on your hair to tilt your head so he could kiss down your neck. You arched your back, needing his mouth all over you, needing him to rip you out of the clothes that had the nerve to create a barrier between you. 

For some unknown reason to your cunt, words emerged from your lips,

“We shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

He pushed your cardigan off your shoulders and nudged your tank top lower so that he could mouth at your cleavage. Your panties flooded with wetness. 

“We’re both grown, Star.” 

The acknowledgement in Bucky’s rumbling voice sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. He skated his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher until you had to lift your hips to allow it to bunch around your waist. He fingered along the edges of your panties. 

He looked down.

“Black lace. Fuck.” 

He cursed low enough that you had to strain to hear him. He licked his lips, his saliva making them look so delicious. 

“Can I touch you, Starlight?”

You shivered at the nickname and nodded, breath caught in your throat.

“Need your words, Baby. Need that beautiful voice.”

“Yes, Bucky. Please touch me…”

Bucky’s fingertips traced your clit through the fabric. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you.” 

“Me too,” you whispered, and he met your gaze, which threatened to stop his heart. 

His blue eyes were fire, bright enough to make your whole world glow. If you let him, he’d sweep you away and ensure you enjoyed every second. You wanted it. To be swept away by him. 

Bucky started the torturous slide of his thumb over your clit. You threw your head back and whined, caught up in a nirvana you’d only dreamt about.

“Bucky! Dont…”

He stopped what he was doing, stilling his hand over your cunt.

“Don’t?” 

His voice was broken, and pleading. You used your free hand to cover his where he cupped your pussy. 

“...Don’t stop Bucky….” 

Still he didn’t move, searching your face for answers you didn’t have. You drew in a shuddering breath. Bucky’s slow smile sent your stomach into a dizzying flip. 

“Naughty girl. You want to use me for your pleasure. Your own personal sex toy.” 

You dragged your gaze over him, from his dark hair, to those wicked blue eyes, to his sinful mouth, down to the pants clearly sporting a huge hard-on. You grew bold in the knowledge that he’d started this. 

Bucky Barnes wanted you, too.

“I have a sex toy. In fact, I have several. None of them look a thing like you.” 

His laughter rolled through you. 

“I guess I have work to do. Need to retire some sex toys. Check.” 

“You’ll have to work real hard. I’m kind of attached to them, especially Arthur. Haven’t had real cock in 2 years.”

Bucky arched his eyebrow and hooked his fingers through your panties and dragged them down your legs, stepping back so you could kick them off. 

“I’m disturbed that you named your vibrator.”

“Dildo,” you corrected.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“But I’m up for the challenge of making you scream my name…”

Bucky went to his knees between your spread thighs, looking at your pussy so intensely you could feel it like his touch. 

“And I won’t tell you that I’ve jacked myself to the thought of you countless times over the years.” 

“Bucky…”

He pressed a painfully gentle kiss to each thigh and then his breath ghosted over your clit. 

“I sure as hell won’t tell you that when I fucked my hand, and imagined being inside you, that I came so fucking hard, Star, just from thinking about being buried in you to the hilt.”

You tried to focus past the pleasure of his mouth, his big hands holding your thighs wide as he devoured you. But his words had you floating.

“I… You fantasized about me?” 

Bucky licked up your slit and then kissed it, looking up in your eyes before he answered you.

“Hmmm. Yes. I did.” 

He sucked on your clit hard enough to make your back bow. 

“Eating you out...” 

Another long lick and a smile that he was accomplishing that very thing. 

“You on your knees for me...” 

The image in your mind of looking up at Bucky made you clench down and Bucky smiled at your pitiful pussy.

“...Bending you over something, like this desk, and fucking you hard…”

You whimpered, your pleasure building as much from the fantasy as from Bucky’s mouth. 

“... Maybe taking that ass…”

He rolled his tongue over your clit, working you in just the way you needed. 

“....cuming inside you, or all over your back. I’ll let you choose.”

“Oh! Bucky!”

You were practically screaming as you tried to slow your pleasure, to make it last, but Bucky drove you to the brink and you couldn’t resist him. You came with a cry that filled the room around you.

Bucky didn’t give you a chance to recover, though. He stood and stepped back between your thighs to take your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue and it made your toes curl. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he lifted you off the desk easily and walked you down the hallway, still kissing you, never missing a step. 

“You’ve done this before,” you murmured. 

“Not like this. Never this.” 

He kept you pinned to him with one arm around the small of your back and used his other hand to pull your tank top off. You ran your hands down his muscled chest. He really was too beautiful. It almost hurt to look at him and touching him only magnified the sensation. 

He spun and pinned you between his body and the wall next to the door, thrusting against you. The seam of his pants pressed against your clit and you cried out. 

“More.” 

Bucky dragged his mouth up your neck and set his teeth against your earlobe and that set you on fire.

“You’re so needy, Star. I get it, I really do. Been wanting to show you how I feel for 14 years…” 

You gasped and Bucky’s teeth scraped against your lip, making your nipples tighten in response. He let you down and stepped back, running his hand through his hair.

“Strip.”

There wasn’t much left to take off, but you obeyed and his grin made your heart stutter. 

“On the bed.” 

You crawled on the mattress and reclined among the pillows. You were rewarded by Bucky stripping out of shirt, and his pants and underwear in one go, shoving the material down his strong thighs and kicking free of them, leaving him naked. 

The sight of his large cock straining against his stomach had you biting your bottom lip.

You knew what came next.

You craved it. And you forgot all about Arthur. You reached for him. 

“Don’t make me wait any more, Bucky.” 

He pulled a string of condoms from the nightstand and tossed them on the bed next to you. You counted six and raised your eyebrows. Bucky gave you an unrepentant grin.

“One condition.” 

“Damn it, Bucky.” 

Of course there were conditions. 

“Stay in my bed tonight. Another fantasy of mine.” 

You melted. Why not? It was finally time to have what you wanted. And you wanted Bucky.

You met those intoxicating blue eyes and nodded. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

He was on you in seconds, shoving your legs wide and he ground the base of his cock against your clit. He tangled his fingers in your hair and took your mouth like you were the sweetest fruit and he’d never get enough. 

You reached blindly over and grabbed a condom. You tore the wrapper with your teeth and you rolled it over his cock. He allowed it, shifting back to give you the room to work.

Your body cried for him; you needed him inside you and you needed it at that moment. You lay back and  guided him into you and he thrust in slowly, inch by inch, until he had sheathed himself completely. 

Oh god. The stretch. Bucky broke free of your mouth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breath mingling between you. 

Each of your exhales came out as, “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.” 

He gentled his touch, stroking your hair as if you were a wild animal he was taming. 

“Stay with me, Starlight. I’ve got you.” 

As if this was something that was forced upon you, rather than what you grabbed with greedy hands because you wanted it so badly. 

You smiled, blissful. Fucked out, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s cock pouding inside you. You needed more.

“Please move, friend. Fuck me, Bucky.” 

You hitched your leg around his hip so you could take him deeper and leaned up until your lips brushed his ear.

“I need it hard.” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes together and bit his lip as the pounding of his cock increased. You both thought he would cum right then.

“‘M not your fucking friend…”

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up even as he impaled you again. 

“You want me to fuck you hard?” 

“Yes!” you moaned. 

“Knees wider, Starlight. Let’s go.”

Bucky slapped your ass and then grabbed a handful of your thick hair, tugging at just the right amount of pain to go with the pleasure.

The first stroke was slow.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me like a fucking vice. Almost had me cumming a few minutes ago.”

You could tell that Bucky’s teeth were gritted when he spoke. He had to brace against the urge to rut into you like a wild animal, but his pace and intensity increased. 

For long, mind-blowing minutes, he thrust into you, paying attention to your sounds and movements to know that he was hitting that spot inside you. You meet him thrust for thrust as Bucky began to fuck you like his life depended on it.

He made the mistake of looking down at how your ass took the shock waves of his back shots and the evidence of your arousal left on his cock as he pistoned inside you and he cursed.

“Fucckkkkk! You should see the beautiful cream you’re leaving on my cock, Star. So fucking hot.”

The way you moaned set him on the road to orgasm and again and he reached for your clit, rubbing his thumb over it. Almost as soon as he did, you screamed his name and shattered beneath him. Bucky followed you headlong over that cliff and collapsed beside you, dizzy.

He looked over to see you already falling asleep, exhausted. He kissed your temple and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, coming back with a washcloth for you.

When he was done cleaning you up, he gathered your boneless body in his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead as you curled into him, your head on his chest and leg thrown over his. 

It was like you didn’t want to let him go.

“I know the feeling, Star,” Bucky whispered as he closed his eyes.

A feeling settling in his chest that he’d almost, but not quite, ever felt before.

[halliejaade]

Edelweiss

Joaquín Torres x Female Reader (Chapter One)

Disclaimer: Since there isn't much of a backstory for him, this is kind of setting up a background for both him AND you, plus, I gave him a little sister. I thought the dynamic would be fun to explore and could add to the story in a good way. :) Also, I just came up with a name for their mom because I wasn't sure if she's been spoken about canonically.

Synopsis: The seed of love once planted during your childhood with Joaquín never had the chance to bloom due to the weight of circumstance. Years later, you find yourself still totally and completely in love; but perhaps, after all this time, that love will finally be allowed to bloom.

Moving to Miami is as exciting as disorienting.

It had been incredibly hard; leaving all of your friends behind. But your father simply couldn't pass up the job offer that he had been given.

Being only twelve years old meant that you didn't pay any mind to the house your parents had bought. You did pay attention, however, to the fact that this neighborhood actually had other kids. Back home, there were only older folk, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with eager-to-face-the -world children.

It also helped that there was a beach only a few miles from this house.

You stepped onto the front lawn and observed your new home. The possibilities seemed endless; a sprawling front yard, perfect for the game of tag, a sidewalk just waiting to be drawn on with colorful chalk, and a huge tree sat in the backyard, beckoning you to climb it.

You were helping your father unpack boxes from the moving truck, relishing in the pride laced into his tone when you lifted a particular heavy box with ease. You set it on the curb, wobbling slightly as you noticed the neighbors that were chatting away with your mother.

A beautiful woman stood beside a gentle looking man, her hand hooked in the crook of his elbow, a smile splayed across her face. Between them, a young boy and even younger girl stood; the splitting image of both of their parents.

"Honey, introduce yourself," Your mother encourages softly.

You smile bashfully, fingers moving to grasp at your mother's long skirt. Bowing your head, you introduce yourself. When you peek back up, the boy is watching you carefully.

He catches your gaze, and smiles softly, dimpled cheeks becoming an instant comfort for you.

"I'm Joaquín," The boy says proudly, "And this is my little sister, Maria." He swings an arm over her shoulders.

Joaquín grins then, and it's so bright, that it makes you think that maybe he's the sun incarnate. In fact, you're almost positive that he is.

"Would you like to show Y/n around the neighborhood?" Their mother, Cecelia, asked quietly. Joaquín nodded enthusiastically.

You realized rather quickly that Joaquín didn't do anything half-heartedly. He didn't do anything without complete and utter certainty, and that apparently included becoming friends with you.

The little neighborhood you had moved into was safe. Kids could be seen wandering about the streets without supervision, because that's how secure everyone felt in their little community. You could turn a corner and be sure to see a familiar face.

You followed close behind Joaquín and Maria, rolling the sleeves of your shirt up your arms as rays of sunlight bit at your skin.

"We can stop by Max's and get a cold soda, if you'd like one," Joaquín says.

"I don't have any money."

"That's okay. Max always gives us our drinks for free!"

Maria, who had been quiet up until then, laughed loudly. "Yeah, but that's 'coz you annoy him. He doesn't want to deal with you."

In a few years, you'll look back on this moment and only have fond thoughts about it; the moment you met you're two greatest friends. Joaquín, who was always quick to say what was on his mind, always so ready to speak up about the things he believed in. And Maria, who was soft-spoken, always choosing to spill her thoughts on paper rather than from her mouth.

A cluster of businesses stood proudly in your neighborhood, all small, locally owned. In the middle, a group of men were attempting to set up what looked to be a fireworks display. Joaquín looked over his shoulder at you and then pointed toward the square.

"When it gets closer to Christmas, they'll put up a massive tree. It's pretty sweet! But one year, a hawk flew into it and knocked off one of the big bulbs. It hit Gloria in the head. Knocked her out, but it was kind of funny. She was fine, by the way. Well. Not really, 'coz she's kind of crazy, so I think it might have made her crazier-"

You were about to interrupt him and ask who Gloria was, but you didn't have to.

Maria jammed an elbow into her brother's ribcage, "Shut up."

A woman, who could have only been Gloria, based on the fear that emanated from the Torres siblings, was walking across the street. Right at you.

"Oh no, she looks like she's on a mission. Let's make a break for it," Joaquín whispered, beginning to turn in the opposite direction, toward the pharmacy.

"Hey, wait!" Gloria called. "I want to meet the newest addition!"

Joaquín grimaced. "Can you run fast?"

You shrugged. You weren't sure what fast was to him.

"Sorry, Gloria! Maria's real sick, you probably shouldn't get too close." And then he clapped Maria on the back. Maria bent at the waist, coughing loudly. Joaquín turned around and made a show of pointing at his little sister. "See! Nasty cough. Wouldn't want you catching that. We have to get her medicine, anyway."

The three of you took off running then, though Maria was still coughing wildly. "What is the matter with you?!"

Joaquín only giggled.

Even though you didn't really need to go into the pharmacy, you did anyway. The old metal sign hanging from the awning sighed loudly as the wind caught it, and you couldn't help but admire it for a moment. It was old, a testament to how long some of these businesses had stood in this little square for. The bell above the door chimed as the three of you stepped through, the elderly man behind the pharmaceutical desk greeting you all with a friendly smile.

You had only just moved to Miami, and already you felt like you belonged. That's just how it was there. It could get frustrating, not having much privacy, but you always knew you had people in your corner.

A month passes. Friendship festers.

Turns out, Maria did have a bit of a rebellious side to her. Though it only presented itself once she got comfortable with you.

The whole thing had been her idea.

Once July hit, the temperature spiked, and the days were often scorching. Playing outside was a no-go, with the weatherman warning of too high temperatures. Lazing around the house proved to be a hard task for a couple of twelve-year-olds, so you had to get creative.

It's how you find yourself climbing the tall fence running the perimeter of the Miami Shores Country Club swimming pool with Joaquín and Maria.

Joaquín climbed up with ease, lifting himself up and settling down on the top before reaching down to help you and Maria up.

You spent the day floating around the pool together, rummaging through your pockets once the sun got to be a little too hot for loose change so you could buy ice cream from the little concession stand. By the time you left, (that's how you all chose to tell the story; the real version was that you got caught and were kicked out), there was melted popsicle dripping down your fingers, and your hair smelled like chlorine, but you couldn't have been happier if you tried.

It was getting dark by the time you were finally heading home, so you wouldn't have come across it if it weren't for Joaquín getting distracted and crashing his bike. He had landed in a woody area, the thick grass breaking his fall. You and Maria quickly dismounted your bicycles and hurried after him. He had already gotten up and climbed through the brush. You weren't sure what you were expecting to find on the other side, but it certainly wasn't a massive meadow that you were expecting. It was as if the rows and rows of wildflowers were endless.

Without warning, you took off into the field, causing a swarm of fireflies to burst from the flowers. It looked like the stars were falling from the sky.

You caught one of the fireflies, and gently cupping it in the palms of your hands, you made a wish. You wished to always have these friends, to always have the security of the Torres siblings next door.

Joaquín wanted to keep catching bugs, and had been prepared to set some ground rules for a game (not that he ever really followed the rules back then), when you turned, and said the last thing he had ever expected.

"Come dance with me, guys!"

Heat burned Joaquín's cheeks. "Ah, I don't know...go ahead and dance, Maria. I think I'll just hang back here and look for bugs."

He wasn't sure why he felt so embarassed about it.

"Whatever, boys suck anyway," His sister announced as she brushed past.

The next few minutes were some of the worst that he'd ever endured in his short lifetime. He watched, partially in amusement, but mostly in horror, as Maria stepped all over your toes, as she apologized over and over again every time she did so. Finally, he got frustrated with having to watch you grimace and try to cover it up with a smile every time your toes got stepped on. He shoved off of the tree that he had been leaning on, and told Maria to watch and learn.

"Wait, where did you learn how to dance?" You asked, placing a hand on Joaquín's shoulder.

"Oh, our cousin got married last summer, so our Ma taught us."

There was a moment of silence, of pure joy as Joaquín twirled you slowly, and then...

You were so sure that you were going to have to break up a fight once the look of realization passed across Joaquín's usually passive face. Even more so once Maria laughed smugly at him.

Joaquín swore to never fall for one of his sister's deceptions ever again.

Another month passes, the gravitational pull grows stronger.

Daisy, your younger cousin, flew down with her mother to spend the remainder of the summer with you. It was a tradition you had back home, for your aunt and cousin to come and stay with you for one month out of the summer. You were excited that even though the location was different, that the tradition wasn't ending. You liked Joaquín and Maria, loved them even, but you were happy to have a familiar face around.

Joaquín had recently gotten into heroes, and nearly every day, at the crack of dawn, he'd drag you, Daisy and Maria to the meadow down the street to play a game of heroes with him. Though, on this particular day, only you were able to go.

Thankfully, you had proven to be just about up for anything, so when he asked you the night before if you still wanted to go, you quickly agreed. The next morning, he found you waiting on your front porch steps for him, and then you took off running for that meadow that had become a safe haven for your little trio.

The crack of a broken branch echoed through the muggy August air as you leapt from one tree to the next. Normally you'd be the sidekick in Joaquín's story, but now that Maria and Daisy were both at home, someone had to play the villain.

"That was sick, Y/n!" Joaquín broke character for just a moment, a shocked laugh escaping from his chest. "But please be careful."

You laughed wildly, feeling the freedom of air as you swung yourself from the branch and landed in front of Joaquín.

"This is fun. I want to be the villain every time!"

His mouth twisted down into a little frown, "But I like you being my sidekick."

"I do think we make a good team," You replied thoughtfully.

"Wait, really-"

He was cut off as a raindrop splattered along the ridge of his nose. You looked up, and took note of the angry gray clouds that were rolling in.

There weren't many things that frightened you.

Storms were one of the few things that did.

Not many people would've noticed that it wasn't just concern that danced in your eyes, but a deep-rooted fear as well. But Joaquín did. He always noticed things about you that no one else did.

"Hey, let's get home, yeah?" He commanded quietly, grabbing your hand. You stood in place, like a frightened fawn that hasn't quite learned how to leave its mother's side yet.

He realized then, that he would have to do anything he could to get you to move, that this was his chance to get a jumpstart on being a hero.

"Hey, rainboots," He said playfully, nudging your bright green boot with the toe of his sneaker. "Race you home? Winner gets the loser's dessert for the next week."

Now that caught your attention. Your mothers had grown close quickly and had implemented dinner's together three times a week. They collaborated on both dinner and dessert, but the dessert was always the best part of the meal.

Even though it was technically supposed to be a race, you didn't let go of Joaquín's hand when you took off into the rain.

He was quicker than you, but the both of you knew that he was going to say that you won the race.

You were only halfway home, when a crack of thunder tore through the sky. It wailed deafeningly loud, the ground shaking beneath your feet in response. Dense raindrops smacked at the tops of your heads as you ran down the street. You could barely hear over the roaring thunder, could barely see through the thick curtain of rain, but you weren't scared anymore. You couldn't feel anything but calm.

You just couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid when sunshine was running just a few steps ahead of you.

Summer descends, Autumn howling at its heels.

School was right around the corner, the dread finally settling in at the prospect of (forced) early mornings, homework, and shorter days. Daisy was due to go back home the next day, and then the following week, you'd start school with Joaquín and Maria.

You were spending the day with Joaquín, sipping sweet tea on the front porch as you played a game of cards. Daisy was down on the sidewalk, near the street. She was trying to catch a toad, and splashing around in the puddle's leftover from the rainstorm the previous night. The two of you were hidden from sight, so you didn't know what was about to happen until it was too late.

Joaquín always thought that it would be extremely difficult to envision you as an angry person. You were just so kind to every person you came across. You would sing to honeybees, even as everyone else was running away screaming. If Maria (or Daisy) dropped their ice cream cone on the sidewalk, the first person to offer theirs up would be you. Strangers would gawk at your sometimes unruly behavior, and would sometimes frown upon your boisterous laughter, but you'd just grin at them in response.

He came to a realization that day, though.

There was a boy who lived in your neighborhood. He liked to pick on people, but only if they were smaller than him and couldn't really fight back. He hadn't ever gotten brave enough to try anything with you guys, since he was always outnumbered. But he hadn't seen you or Joaquín up on the porch that day.

Neither of you realized what was happening until Daisy screamed. You watched in horror, as Beau shoved Daisy. She teetered back on her heels before losing her balance completely, her elbows skidding across the pavement as she landed. Her cries sent the both of you to your feet. Joaquín was the first to make it down to the sidewalk, his anger propelling him forward.

Joaquín was only inches from Beau, his hand reaching out to grab at him, when a blur flew past.

He slowed to a stop, watching in utter amazement as you gathered the back of Beau's shirt into your hands and yanked him back as hard as you could. Beau scowled as he turned, ready to strike. But then he saw you standing there, and laughter bubbled up in his chest, up and up, until it burst from his mouth, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He lunged at you, his fist raised as if he was about to hit you. Joaquín took a step forward as you took a step back.

Beau smirked. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He tugged a piece of your hair, before turning on his heel.

You tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned back around, you smiled innocently up at him, and rocked back on your heels.

Your smile dropped.

"You forgot something."

And then you swung your fist into his nose.

It was at that moment that Joaquín realized that, yes, you were kind, and friendly, and often went out of your way to help others, even if it meant you got slighted in the end.

You were also fiercely protective.

A year passes.

Middle school came, and while schools changed and so did the students, you and Joaquín remained the best of friends.

You fell in love with art, and ballet. Joaquín joined various sports, intent on becoming strong so that he could protect and provide for his loved ones.

The two of you were really finding yourselves. It was beautiful.

Two years pass, then three.

The shift happens when your world suddenly turns on its axis.

Everyone called it the Blip. You called it the worst, yet most defining five years of your life.

It was odd, how your parents had been there and then suddenly...they just weren't. Maria, and Joaquín's father were gone too. But both he and his mom were safe, still in that house next door.

His mom had practically begged you to stay with them, but you couldn't bring yourself to. You couldn't bear the thought that your parents might show up again, that they might only appear just long enough that you'd miss them if you were out of the house. So you stayed, even as the echoes of what once was haunted you.

Home went from love and laughter and so much fun with your parents to the kind of quiet that was capable of driving someone mad.

Joaquín, however, was determined to redefine what home meant to you.

Having a bedroom across from yours had its perks, one of them being that he could very easily cross the tree that connected your bedrooms whenever he pleased. He had been doing it before the blip, when the two of you decided one night that it would be fun to have your own way of communicating. One flicker of your bedroom light meant 'lets watch the stars together', two flickers meant 'i'm bored, let's talk', and three meant 'sos come over as quickly as you can'.

So it wasn't necessarily strange for him to come over at all hours of the night, but it was different when the blip happened. It became less fun, and felt more like something you both needed.

It isn't a surprise for you when you hear that familiar knocking on your bedroom window at half past midnight. You call out softly, telling him to come in. What you are surprised about, is the tinge of nervousness you feel when he climbs through the window, moonlight washing over him.

You pull your covers up and around your shoulders, as if that could protect you from the newfound feeling.

"Are you cold?"

No.

"Yes," You reply.

Joaquín nods in understanding, and motions for you to scoot over in your bed. It shouldn't be strange, this had been the routine for a long while. But when he settles in beside you, face set in a peaceful expression, it gives you butterflies so badly that you think you might vomit.

"You okay?" He asks softly.

You only nod, too afraid that if you open your mouth that you'll say something stupid.

Joaquín shifts closer.

You're unsure of how and when this happened. You're unsure of when he became so...handsome. Somehow, it's only now occurring to you how much space he takes up in your bed, how broad his shoulders are when he rolls onto his side to look at you.

"Rain boots," He whispers, "Tell me what's wrong?"

Unable to look him in the eye, you roll over and stare at the blindingly red numbers on your alarm clock. "Just miss my parents."

It's not a lie.

You expect him to do what he always does. You expect him to offer some advice, to tell a joke so that you smile, you expect him to poke at your sides until you have no choice but to erupt with laughter.

You don't expect him to shift closer to you, an arm reaching out to drape over your waist. You don't expect the warmth of his breath against your neck. His chest presses to your back, and you have to stop yourself from dying right then and there. Tentatively, he slides his hand into yours, before he squeezes three times.

"Close your eyes, boots. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

You do as he says, trying to get your breath back to its normal rhythm.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

"Night, Joaquín," You breathe.

The last thing you remember thinking, before sleep finally claims you, is that Joaquín's heart is beating in tandem with yours.

Two more years.

Joaquín always knew that you were destined for things far greater than you could have ever possibly imagined. It was apparent to him from the very beginning.

Growing up next to you had plenty of perks; one of them being that you had the ability to keep Maria entertained unlike anything else ever had. You had always managed to come up with fantastical scenarios, assigning the siblings their roles as you acted them out. From a young age, the world had been your stage.

You never seemed to mind that not everyone wanted to attend the show, you were always so unendingly free.

So it's absolutely no surprise to him that you seem so comfortable on a real stage.

You just...belong there.

The stage lights are bright, but not nearly as much as you are. You're radiant, a cosmic entity.

"This is beautiful," His mom announces quietly as she takes in the venue. After the blip, after everything was said and done, you decided not to waste any more time and accepted your offer into Julliard.

It had been difficult, moving away from home after everyone you loved came back. But if the blip had taught you anything, it was that life was short, and you wanted to make the most of it when you could. And now, here you were.

You'd always dreamt of performing in The Nutcracker. You weren't supposed to tell anyone when you found out, but you couldn't keep it from Joaquín that you'd gotten the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy. And to think, after all your hard work, you were performing with the New York City Ballet!

"She is so beautiful," Joaquín agrees.

"Not to diminish her, because she is very beautiful-but I said the venue was beautiful."

Joaquín looks to the side, at your mother's and at Maria. "That's what I said, too."

Maria snickers, and rolls her program up before smacking her brother with it. "That is definitely not what you just said, you dork."

He hates to admit it, but she's right. She was right all those years ago in that meadow when you were so excited to dance with them. She was right to trick him into dancing with you. Even when Maria was gone, he could almost feel her eyes on him any time he laid with you at night. He could almost feel the way she'd say, "Make a move you big dummy!"

But he was afraid.

He was afraid that he would put his heart on the line for nothing. He was afraid, because he was leaving in less than a week for the Air Force.

But mostly, he was afraid that he would get hurt, or worse, and that he would totally and completely break your heart.

So he kept quiet about it, though it was almost physically painful for him.

During curtain call, you take your final bows, and Joaquín can't help but leap from his seat. The entire audience follows suit, and he sees the way that your eyes light up. He sees the tears (that he knows are happy) that gather on your waterline. He sees, because out of everyone in the audience, you look for him.

And, damn it, if that doesn't make him want to drop to his knees and tell you right then and there how truly and completely he adores you.

But he's leaving, and you'll be here, dancing. He's leaving, and he'll be in dangerous situations that he'll be sure to not divulge with you. He's leaving, and you'll be here, safe and sound. So he keeps his mouth shut for a while longer.

Afterwards, you take them out to your favorite sushi spot. You're ecstatic, practically glowing. You had taken your hair down and taken the makeup off, but you couldn't have been more beautiful if you tried.

"This is insane," You gush, squeezing your mom's hand as you press the button on the crosswalk. "I can't believe this is my life right now!"

"Rain boots."

You glance at your greatest friend, the boy who isn't as much of a boy as he is a man now. "Joaquín."

I love you.

But he can't say it yet.

"I'm so proud of you."

You smile softly, and wrap your hands around one of his biceps before crossing the street as a group. He thinks that's all you're going to answer with, that this is where it ends. But right before you walk into the restaurant, you lean your head against his shoulder, and although you say it quietly, he hears you loud and clear.

"I'm proud of you, too."

Annnnd chapter one finished❤️ I'll get more into the plot of TFAWTS/CABNW, but I wanted to set up the back story and allow you guys to get a feel of the dynamic. (:

[lunajay33]

Searching for You Part.3

•🪽🧺🧟‍♀️•

Summary: Reader and Daryl have been together since you were teens, you have crazy news for him but then the world falls apart and your searching for him every second

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Pregnant

Part.2

•Masterlist•

Its been two months since the attack in the farm, separating me from the love of my life, from the people I grew to call my close friends, even Andrea left me alone but thankfully I was able to escape the hoard and found a near by farm house that still had some food left, I packed what I could, blankets, clothes, water and food and took a truck, the truck didn’t last long till it ran out of gas and I was left to walk on foot, now 7 months pregnant everyday was was a struggle just praying I’d find Daryl in time to give birth

After lots of alone time thinking I’ve decided that if my little Dixon is a girl I’m going to name her Lilah it seems fitting, Lilah Dixon

Winter came and it was harder with the scarce food supplies, I came across a house with a random dog food can smashed against a wall and some owl feathers scattered across the floor, the house was cleaned of any food that could’ve been there, I found a big enough coat that fit around my belly that would help me keep warm

Months went by and now any second I’m waiting for my water to break adding more stress, but atleast the snow was now melting, walking along train tracks like Daryl always taught me to do I found a prison, for some reason I felt a pull and I decide to check it out, maybe they still have an emergency food supply

I drag my feet exhausted, covered in walker blood and dirt and just my luck there’s a chain around the gate and post, I sigh resting my head against the chain link

“Please god I know I don’t pray much but please just this once give me a break” at that moment the door to the watch tower just behind the gate opens and out comes a darker skinned beautiful woman with a sword at the ready

“Please help me I’m about to pop any day and I just don’t want to be alone” I say desperate as my voice waivers

She lowers her katana and smiles as she undoes the chain and lets me in before looking it behind me

“Thank you so much, is it just you here?” I ask as we walk up to the prison

“No there was a group here before me, secured the place and have been doing pretty well”

“Seems we both got lucky, I won’t be in your hair for long I just need some food and time to have my baby and I’ll be on my way, back to finding my husband”

“We’ve got a guy here, goes out everyday looking for his wife, poor guy” as we get close to the prison I see a truck, a mini van and…….motorcycle, I’d notice that motorcycle anywhere, I wobble over to it tracing my hand over it

“Who owns this” I cry looking back at her

“His name is Daryl” she says confused

“Take me to him NOW” I suck in a breath and she shows me inside the cell block, and I see Maggie, Beth, Rick Carl sat around a table I almost fall to me knees

“Y/n?” Maggie said as she got up and came and gave me a hug

The others circling around with bright smiles but I was only looking for one face

“What the hells goin on down here” that voice makes me weak in the knees like it always did

The group parts and the world stops and it’s just me and Daryl, he drops his cross bow and comes straight for me pulling me in right and breathing me in

“I thought I lost ya but I never gave up Angel” he whimpers

“I knew I’d find you D, it’s been hard alone but I kept going for you and our little girl” his hands come down to rest on my big belly and I feel her kick right into his hands

“We missed you” I smile

“Trust us when we say he’s missed you more, he’s kept a whole bin of baby things he’d get when he went out saying one day he’d give them to his baby” Carl laughed

“Can I see, I’ve been alone for months I just want you to talk to me about all the things you got us” I sigh into his chest

The others gave us some space and we went up to his cell wear he took off my worn down shoes and helped lay me on my side

“I found this pink jumper fer when she gets cold, found these bottles, some pacifiers fer when she cries, a baby blanket that’s brown and pink cause I know ya love that, got ya some fluffy pajamas fer after the baby so yer comfortable, and all yer favorite snacks I could find” he showed me each one like he was the happiest kid in a candy store

“I can’t believe you got all this for me and Lilah, I can’t wait to show her all this but for now can you just hold me while I sleep” I yawn not being able to get a full nights sleep in so long

He got in the bed next to me and held me tight and covering me up

“I’ve never leaving ya again my love, I’ll be here when ya wake up”

•

I woke up abruptly to a harsh pressure in my belly then the bed under me was wet and a contraction came on strong making me gasp

“Daryl wake up!” I cry and he’s up immediately picking me up and bringing me to Hershel’s cell

“Hershel she’s in labour” the poor man woke up startled and got his crutches as we made our way to the medical room of the hospital

He laid me down softly and pushed my hair back kissing me on the cheek

“I’m scared D, I thought I could do this what if I’m not good enough” I cry as they get me ready

“Hey yer the strongest woman i know, ya made yer way back ta me and i know ya can do this, she’s almost here” hours of screaming and crying I finally hear it, little cries, Hershel cleans her up and hands her to me

“Ya were right, a lil girl” Daryl says as he sits on the bed holding us both

“I can’t believe she’s here, our Lilah, she looks just like you D, brown hair, cute blue eyes”

“But she’s as pretty as you, now get some rest our family is finally together”

•

Short one but just didn’t want to leave the story unfinished!!

Taglist: @heidiland05 @i93jjk @stories4you04-x @itsjustmeandmyanxiety @writer-ann-artist @buck-this-nasty @holdmytesseract @whump-loverz @kodzukenie333 @clairealeehelsing @nanoowl-blog @rubyylovestoread @alex22007 @fairysukii @ashsallyblue2 @minaxcarter

[lesmiix]

Heyyy, could I have an extroverted reader x Hyung-juu. But they met in high school before her's transition and she always had a crush on him/she and now she wants to get closer? Thank you :33

ONE SHOT: So high school.

Hyun-ju x extroverted g/n!reader.

Summary: You and Hyun-ju met in highschool before her transition and she kinda has a crush on you 🫣

Warnings: g/n= gender neutral reader, pre and post transition, extroverted reader, fluff.

a/n: 💗 HYUN-JU REQUESTS ARE OPEN 💗 (check the pinned post)

Many people thought he was weird because he was quite feminine. She used to have black nail polish, wear a little makeup with concealer and mascara, and wear girly jewelry. Which the boys at your school didn't like. For that very reason, they used to tease him. But things didn't usually go too badly, just a few taunts from time to time.

(For now Hyun-ju has not come out and people refer to her with "he/him")

You were sitting in history class, without paying much attention to what the teacher was saying. You were looking at the scenery outside the window, admiring the birds flying across the sky, while thinking about your business. Suddenly, you noticed that someone was staring at you. You turned your head and saw that a boy was looking at you. That boy always seemed curious to you, he was always very nice to you, you were friends, not very close, but friends. He had a gentle personality, but not soft either, he had good leadership in group work and in physical education. His name was Hyun-ju. Cho Hyun-ju.

Seeing him looking at you, you smiled at him, but he quickly turned his head away, embarrassed. The bell rang, class ended. You gathered your things and headed to his table.

"Hey, Ju-ju" You used to have that nickname for him.

"Do you want to eat with us today?" You asked, extending your hand to him. He nodded, packed his things and went with you to the canteen.

You had quite a big group of friends, they were nice but you were not too close to you either, you got along really well though.

Everything went smoothly, everyone was very nice to Hyun-ju and the atmosphere felt very comfortable.

So the next few years passed, your relationship with Hyun-ju improved and you became very close friends, she even told you her biggest secret. She didn't want to live like a man, she wanted to live like a woman. You supported her from the very beginning, you were always there for her and you protected her from people's jokes and stood up to them.

All those brave actions for Hyun-ju, made hes feelings for you increase. She always admired your bravery and showed you how much she loved you.

You became inseparable, and her feelings for you started to become more and more obvious. And... You weren't going to deny that you thought she was very pretty. Every now and then you would find yourself admiring her, watching how her eyes sparkled with excitement every time she was happy and how her lips turned into a little smile every time you complimented her.

So, you worked up the courage and asked her to go with you to a secluded spot during recess.

"Are you gonna murder me or something?" She playfully asked, giving you this smirk that drove you crazy.

"I won't be surprised if you kill me instead." You joked back, afraid that you'd lose her for what you were going to say next .

"Why would I? It can't be that ba-" "I'm in love with you" You cut her off.

She looked at you, confused.

"I've been in love with you for a while now, Hyun-ju." Nerves began to control your body and you started to stutter..

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way, I just felt like you had to know, it wouldn't be fair if you told me your biggest secret and I kept mine for myself. I really don't want to lose you, maybe it's stupid, but I-" And then, you felt her lips against yours. Holding you in a soft kiss, between her arms.

"I... I think- I mean, I'm sure that I'm in love with you too." She said once she pulled away.

The nerves once you had disappeared, you hugged her and she kept you close to her. And that's when you realized that was where you really wanted to be, with the only person who truly cared about you.

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 3

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Shitty family, amazing found family, new friends, supportive friends, Nick Fuckiiiiiiiiiiiin Cage, wedding fluff. Summary: It's time to get married! And that reality is so much sweeter than you ever could have anticipated. Notes: I just...really really love weddings, guys. You all know that by now 🧡🧡 This week, please enjoy a gorgeous view of the Breakers from the ocean!

Friday, April 4, 2025 T-Minus One Hour Until the Wedding

Javi had helped you tote everything back inside Hazelwood House. It's unbelievable that you're actually allowed to be sitting in the room reserved for brides preparing for their special days. It's just one of the house's guest bedrooms but it is outfitted with plenty of non-historical seating and a large vanity for sitting at to do hair and makeup.

Moira had rushed home to change into her favorite purple off-the-shoulder dress and sparkling ballet flats and now the two of you are doing your hair and makeup at that vanity that normally you only see pictures of on the museum's social media accounts afterward.

“Knock, knock.” There’s a polite tap at the door and then two women with huge rolling bags come in. “Hi! I’m Tracy and this is Tandy. We are hair and make-up, so we thought we could come give you a hand? If you want?”

"Oh!" You almost jump even at the gentle intrusion. "Oh my god, really? I—" You glance at Moira but she's already glowing. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. That would be incredible

They both squeal in excitement and come wheeling into the room, careful to close the door behind them. “I looooove soulmate weddings!” Tandy gushes, an exact copy of her twin sister except she has a star tattoo behind her right ear that is visible with her hair put up.

"And this one is going to be gorgeous." Moira declares, practically giggling as she shifts away from the mirror to let you sit directly in front of the vanity.

You are sitting in a dressing gown, which is perfect. Tandy smiles as she stops behind you and examines your hair. “Do you have any ideas for your hair?” She asks.

"Um...Javi picked out a hairpiece," you tell her, severely downplaying the fact that your soulmate chose a literal tiara for you to wear. Instead, you simply take out the box that Cindy had packed it in and open the lid to show the other women.

“Oh my Godddddddddd!” The screeches from all the women are ones of pure joy. Every woman loves a tiara, even if they didn’t want to wear one. And this one is gorgeous.

"The whole look together is fairly spectacular," you admit, your warm cheeks and sheepish expression making you look all the more excited – because you are.

“So obviously, the tiara is the star of the show?” If the headpiece is this beautiful, the dress must be breathtaking. “What about a sleek style that weaves the tiara into your hair?”

"I defer to your expertise," you tell Tandy honestly. Normally you don't do too much to your hair besides take care of it and put it into the same simple style every day. "I just want to look like myself when all is said and done. I guess...today really is the best version of myself I could hope for."

“Natural.” Tracy smile as she moves over to Moira. “I believe in just enhancing your beautiful features with make up.” She promises before she looks at your maid of honor. “May I work on you, gorgeous? You have such beautiful eyes.”

“I guess the look we’re going for is natural.” Moira grins at you and looks back at Tracy. “I do…have a favorite lipstick, though.”

“Oh yeah.” You light up and start nodding. “Clinique Pink Honey. Makes her look like a movie star.” At that, you and your best friend both laugh. “I mean…I guess she’ll just fit in perfectly with the crowd that way.”

“Don’t be too intimidated.” Tandy tells you. “All of them are just as normal as you and me. They just have higher profile jobs.”

"I don't think it's a matter of being intimidated." Which is not what you expected to feel, all things considered. You would have expected that you would feel that way. Maybe it just hasn't really hit you yet. "I'm mostly just surprised."

“It has to be a shock.” Tracy agrees as she starts to pull palettes of colors out of her unzipped bag. Trays and trays of makeup, all nearly organized. “Just suddenly discovering your soulmate by chance.”

"It's a beautiful surprise, but it was definitely a surprise." You and Moria sit up straight in your chairs to let the twins artists set to work. "It's not like I've been checking Mate Marks for matches or anything, ya know? It just...happened."

“Do you know why he wasn’t on Mate Marks?” She asks curiously, pondering over that. She’s never assumed a screenwriter would need anonymity.

"Some people aren't." You shrug slightly, realizing you never even thought to ask. "Some people want to find their soulmate naturally. Out in the wild, if you will."

“Either way, you have found each other and now you are getting married.” She hums. “And it will be beautiful.”

"He's beautiful." A fact which has you practically giggling. "It's been such a whirlwind."

“He is very attractive.” Tandy admits with a smile. “His accent.”

"Is to die for." Another round of giggles ripple through you, and you stand by your opinion wholeheartedly. "I will very happily listen to anything he has to say."

“And he’s so clever.” She adds. “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is one of my favorite movies. It the reason I wanted to work on this movie so badly.”

“That was one of his?” Moira’s eyes widen.

“Yep.” The pride on your face is unmistakable. The universe gave you a soulmate you can be truly proud of and you don’t mind having those bragging rights at all. “That was his first movie.”

“What a way to break into Hollywood, huh?” Tandy snorts. “That movie was like number one at the box office for months.”

"It was incredible." Tracy agrees with an air of absolutism. "His characters are gorgeously complex."

“So this is going to be incredible.” Moira hum. “You are marrying a genius.”

"I love that way of thinking about it," you agree with the broadest grin.

Everyone continues to work and giggle, passing snippets of information. The twins efficient and chatty at the same time.

“What do you think of this?” Tracy asks Moira. “Or do you want a little more dramatic touch? Even though it looks dark in person, a heavily coat photographs better.”

"My best friend's wedding?" Moira glances over at you and you grin at her in the mirror. "I think it calls for a touch of drama, don't you?"

“Definitely.” Tandy hums in agreement. “You won’t look like some old matriarch who’s still got her foundation on from 1920, but you’ll look amazing.”

The laughter that comment earns is loud and genuine, so much so that you almost don't hear your phone ringing in the pocket of your robe. When the most important people in your life are all already in this building, you frown slightly – but it's your father's cell phone that pops up on your caller ID. Moira's jaw drops open, but you shake your head at her concern. "I called him from the boutique before we came back, and left him a voicemail. I figured they should at least know."

After all, they're still your family. Which is why you pick up now instead of sending the call to voicemail like you might have otherwise. "Hi Dad."

“Surprised to get your message.” He doesn’t greet you, ask you how you are. It’s just not the way your father does things. Straight to the point and often unavailable, that’s him. “You need money?”

"No, Dad, I don't need money." You roll your eyes at Moira and smother a sigh. "And I'm well, thank you. I only wanted to let you and Mom know that I'm getting married tonight."

"Married?" His voice is shocked, astounded actually, and he clears his throat. "This is a prank, right?" He huffs. "Like that time you said you were going to go to art school?"

Controlling your breathing is a feat of fucking strength right now, but you aren’t going to spoil the night with another argument about how you had to withdraw your acceptance at Parsons because your mother refused to release the small amount of money they had allotted for your education if you threw it away, in her words. “This is not a prank,” you inform your father coolly. “I met my soulmate and we’re getting married. I just thought it was appropriate to let you know.”

He sputters for a moment. "Soulmate? Who is this soulmate?" He sighs and you can imagine that he is rubbing his eyes right now in that condescending manner to was meant to convey frustration and disappointment at whoever he is dealing with. "Please don't tell me that you just met this man?"

“I met him two years ago.” Technically true. “And I didn’t call to ask for permission. Or to ask for anything at all. This is merely information.” Fucking hell, you can’t wait to change your name.

"You planned a wedding without inviting us." He huffs sounding hurt for a moment and then there's the shuffling the phone and he murmurs something that you can't make out. Having a conversation with someone in the background that takes precedence over your call. The shuffling stops and he comes back on the line. "Well, you let us know. We'll send a card." With that, he hangs up the phone.

“And that is why I wouldn’t have told you anyway.” You huff at the phone, tossing it onto the vanity in a flourish of annoyance. “Well, I told them. That’s all they’re entitled to anyway.”

Moira sighs, very familiar with the disappointment that flashes in your eyes and is quickly suppressed. After all the hurt, all the chances you’ve given them, you try to pretend you don’t want the Hallmark happy family you watch on tv. “Some people don’t deserve to be parents.” She reminds you. “You have me and your other friends.” She waves her hand dismissively to make you laugh because she always tells you that she’s the only friend you really need. “And now you have him. Your soulmate.”

“Well…” Sitting back and letting your eyes shut temporarily, you reach over and give Moira’s hand a squeeze. “At least my kids will never have to quiet about being treated equally. No Golden Children in my house. No favorites. Ever.”

“None.” She promises and gives a little laugh. “Black sheep, all of them.”

“Loved no matter who they are.” You insist. That’s the key.

“Babe, you were born to be the best mother.” She agrees. “You will love every quirk and passion they have.”

“Yes. Yes I absolutely will.” There are so many wrongs of your own childhood that you will right with your own children, but the first step to getting there is getting married tonight.

“Now, forget about them.” She could possibly be talking about a bug or some gum on her shoe rather than your parents. She knows if she ever had the misfortune of meeting Cruella de Vil and her husband, she will be giving them the ass chewing of a lifetime.

"You're right." There is no reason to ruin your special night thinking about your awful family, and you're not going to let it happen. "You're absolutely right. Now." You relax back in your seat as Tracy and Tandy switch places. Your tiara is secured into place and it's starting to feel real all over again. "Moira, my love. As maid of honor I think it's wedding law that you have to take somebody home tonight.

“Yes please.” She immediately agrees with a wicked grin. “I’ll take both Jason Grant and Alex Powell home.”

"Somehow I think Alex Powell needs to be the center of attention at all times," you hum, smirking slightly. "Not that I dislike him. He's actually been really nice. But you've had that crush on Jason Grant for ages now."

“He’s hotttttt.” She huffs, slightly embarrassed about it but she can’t help but preen. “Did you see that ass? You could bounce a quarter off it.”

"I'm not saying you're wrong." Laughing right along with Tracy and Tandy, all four of you end up in a giggle fit. "I'm just saying...he's here now. You could actually talk to him. Get to know him. Even make a move?"

“Like he would want me.” She snorts, giving you a horrified look. “And I’m not lucky enough that my soulmate is a hot actor.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna get some fucking CPA.”

"Six hours ago, if you had told me Javi was my soulmate, I would have laughed at you." In fact, you're pretty sure she might have suggested it once and you did laugh. "You never know. That's all I'm saying."

Rolling her eyes, she blows a raspberry. “Now you’re all ‘the sky is blue and the birds are singing.’ She teases. “It must be love.”

"Maybe." The grin on your face grows quickly into something wide and unapologetic. "Maybe it is."

****** Nerves has Javi nearly jittery at the flower covered arched trellis that leads to the informal gardens. That is where your boss said that you had always gotten dreamy eyed when you saw wedding set ups so that’s where she had decided to set up.

“You doin’ okay, Jav?” Nick chuckled under his breath, already knowing the answer as he waits beside his friend in front of the small group of assembled guests.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming.” Javi turns towards Nick with a plea in his eyes. “We aren’t drunk in my pool, plotting and laughing. I’m here. I’m in this moment and I’m marrying my soulmate.”

Nick laughs the way only Nick can, because it is full of boundless affection for his tenderhearted friend. "No, buddy." He assured Javi, shaking his head. "You're not dreaming. This is your fairy tale."

He shivers, his face alight with pure joy and his eyes sparkle. “Do I look okay?” He asks, knowing he looks good, but wanting the reassurance. “Thank you for remembering a belt. It matches the shoes too.” He adds, looking down at his loafers proudly.

“You look fantastic.” Nick assures him. One comforting hand on his shoulder squeezes tightly and Nick’s eyes wander momentarily to where Olivia is sitting with Addy in the front row usually reserved for family. Because they are Javi’s family. Javi is the closest thing to a brother Nick has ever had and he understands the sheer joy of finding your soulmate. Of course he wants that for his brother.

“Have I showed you the ring?” He has, but he’s already pulling it out of his pocket again. Partly to reassure himself that it hasn’t disappeared in the forty-five seconds since he had tapped the pocket to make sure that it’s there.

“It’s beautiful, Jav.” Nick knows he’s proud, and is about to nudge him a little about starting work back up on the house when the music starts.

“Oh god, it’s time.” Javi is shaking as he shoves the ring box back in his jacket and straightens his shoulders. Immediately hearing the commanding voice of his father as he scolds him to stop slouching and look proud. He is a Gutierrez.

You can tell that Moira picked out the music as soon as you step out of the house. I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You pours through the speakers hidden throughout the garden, and your best friend grins at you as she takes her place ahead of you to walk down the aisle.

Of course Nick starts to hum along with the song. One of his earlier movies was playing Elvis and he’s been obsessed ever since. Like Javi had been obsessed with Nick. Javi swallows and shuffles as he sees your friend, itching to get a view of his bride.

With a nod from you, Jason slides into place beside Moira to escort her down the aisle after passing off two beautiful bouquets of fresh and vibrant Gerbera daisies. For Moira the bouquet is petite and playful, for you it is big and bold and beautiful. They're so momentarily distracting that you almost miss the soft, affectionate expression on Alex's face as he steps up next to you.

“You make a beautiful bride.” He has intuition about people, reading them easily. He knows that you and he will be good friends. He’s a serial flirt, a little bit of a playboy, but he’s also a very loyal friend. His suit is immaculate and he offers you his arm proudly. “May I have the honor of escorting you to your soulmate?” He asks seriously, even as he smiles that blinding white toothed smile that melts hearts and panties.

“As a matter of fact?” You take his proffered arm with ease. “I insist upon it.”

“You insist.” He peps up even more at that and rolls his shoulders back to straighten up taller. His hand covers yours protectively. “He’s waiting impatiently, so let’s not keep him waiting longer than he has to.”

Moira and Jason make their way down the aisle and the actor deposits her opposite Javi and melts into the crowd of secondary cast and production crew that have all obviously changed into whatever nice they had on hand and are all sitting happily as if they have known you forever.

The music changes as you and Alex step up to the end of the path that will take you up to Javi. It's surreal in a way you'll never quite be able to describe. From Elvis to Etta James, the music now proclaims that you have found each other as you make your way toward your soulmate under the watchful, joyful eyes of assembled friends. Some are old, some are new, but all of them are watching as Alex brings you up to Javi at the end of the aisle and sets your hands into your soulmate's.

“Hi.” He gushes, eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears as his smile lights up his entire being. “You look…una diosa, mi diosa.” He murmurs, tongue tied for a moment. “My goddess.”

"Hi." If you were breathless with excitement before, it is doubled now. "How did you get even more handsome since I left you an hour ago?"

“I changed.” He jokes, making Nick chuckle beside him.

One simple moment of laughter eases some of the nerves that have been holding you tight in your grasp, and you squeeze Javi's hands in yours as Tamara gently clears her throat to get everyone's attention.

“We are gathered here tonight to unite these soulmates in a blessed union.” She smiles as she addresses the crowd.

Tamara’s speech is short and witty, as charming and silly as she is with a reverence for the romance of the moment. If you manage to remember to ask her for a copy of it later — if she even has it written down — you’ll add it to a photo album of beautiful snapshots of tonight.

Javi is practically shaking in excitement and turns towards you as he holds both of your hands. “Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.” And if you make it through your vows without crying, it will be a miracle.

“You are beautiful.” He whispers with a shy smile before he has to look back at Tamara again and nod for her to proceed. “We are ready.”

“For these two soulmates.” Tamara beams, smiling at you and Javi and then out at the crowd. “Love swept in like a fairy tale. A fairy tale that began right here at Hazelwood House with their first meeting and will continue for many endless years to come. As bold and unique as they place they first met, these two soulmates have the potential for an adventurous and boundless life of joy ahead.” There is no questioning, in her mind, how absolutely true that is, and she smiles again. “It doesn’t take more than a few minutes in their presence to know that this is the kind of love that makes the rest of us believe in the true power of soulmates.”

Javi shivers at her eloquent words. He hopes beyond hope that this is that kind of love. Nick reaches out and clasps a hand on his shoulder in steady support. Smiling into your eyes, he feels like he is staring into your soul. His soul.

"Javier." Tamara smiles encouragingly. "We'll have you start the vows."

Javi takes a deep breath, making you smile and giggle slightly. It’s not a heavy sound, it’s nervous. Murmuring your name is accompanied by stroking the back of your hand with his thumbs. “From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. To your beauty, your kindness. That sweet smile.” He tells you. “I had to talk myself out of coming back every day for a week so you did not think I was a creep.”

That draws a sweet laugh from the crowd and another giggle from you, but you squeeze his hands back affectionately. "I looked for you," you admit, not minding interrupting him to say so. "Every single day."

“You did?” He perks up even more, happy that you seem just as enchanted with him as he is with you. “That’s good. And I thought of you. At random times, I could not get you out of my mind.”

"Neither could I." A fact which makes tonight so much sweeter. But you'll have your turn to make your vows to him in a moment. This is Javi's time.

“Every time I saw you after that, I became more ravenous for time with you. Hating to leave your side and now, I do not have to.”

An audible aww! comes from the crowd, and you break out into another wide grin when you recognize Tandy's voice. The twins, it seems, are just as involved in this love story as the rest of the cast and crew became today.

Javi glances at the crowd and then right back to you. “I want to be a good soulmate. A good husband.” He vows. “To make you feel special and appreciated every day.”

Tamara nods for you to go next, clearly smothering a watery smile at her microphone.

"Javi, I..." You have to remember to breathe so that you don't cry, but your eyes are watering with happiness before you even begin. "I still feel like I'm dreaming," you admit, and laugh softly when a ripple of coos and chuckles wash through your assembled friends. You're so glad that you talked through what you wanted to say to him with Moira before coming down from your dressing room. "I feel like I must have dreamt you up in a bedtime story that I told myself years ago and brought you to life through wishing. I can't wait to learn with you, and grow with you, and build our future together."

Javi can’t help himself. Lunging forward, he presses his lips quickly to yours before he is pulling away with an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry.”

A ripple of affectionate laughter rolls through the crowd and Tamara’s smile grows wider and softer in response. “Let’s get those rings,” she says, looking to his best man and your maid of honor.

“Rings…..rings.” There’s a moment of pure panic on Javi’s face as he blanks out for a split second on where he put them. Nick steps forward quickly before he can freak out. “Jacket pocket, buddy.” He whispers in Javi’s ear and steps back just as quickly.

Moira has Javi’s wedding band for safe keeping, and she passes it to you along with a lovingly weepy hug. Your best friend has always been a softie, after all.

“Here it is.” Javi pulls out your ring with a flourish. Smiling happily as he stares at it for a moment.

"We exchange rings," Tamara goes on, starting to get a bit choked up. "As a symbol of everlasting love. Once it exists, it never ends, and to have a physical reminder of that love each day can be as soothing for the soul as anything else in the world."

Oh yeah, she is absolutely about to cry, you think but you really can't blame her. You're there yourself.

"Javi, repeat after me as you present your soulmate with her ring." It's so very simple but so beautifully felt. "I present you with this token of my love and devotion. A symbol of our partnership for life." And then, of course, the traditional icing on the cake. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Javi holds your left hand as if it were made of glass and has the ring ready to slip onto your finger. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” He says clearly. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Even though you just bought the beautiful platinum band three hours ago, it still feels like magic when it slips onto your finger perfectly. It doesn’t feel real. Like anything this perfect has to be a dream.

Your fingers grip his tightly for a moment and you blow out a shaky breath before repeating the vow under Tamara’s direction. “I present you with this token of my love and devotion.” The beautiful band you hold at his finger slides on so easily. “A symbol of our partnership for life. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“It fits.” He huffs out happily, like he didn’t just try it on hours ago. He had already shifted his pinky ring to his right hand, wanting his wedding ring to be the only ring on this hand. “I will never take it with the intention of putting our vows aside.” He vows seriously. He will have to remove it at times, but it would never be removed for any nefarious reasons, that he can promise.

“I can promise you the same.” There are a hell of a lot of people in this world who couldn’t — or wouldn’t — say the same and you won’t be one of them. Not when it feels like you’ve been searching for him your entire life.

“Do you take each other,” Tamara definitely sniffles this time. She can’t help it. “To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of your lives to come?”

“I do.” Javi’s words are clear, direct. Meant with every fiber of his being. He nods and smiles. “I do.”

“I do.” Your heart pounds with it and sings its tune.

“Then,” Tamara beams, sounding almost as excited as you and Javi. “By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“It’s allowed this time.” Nick chuckles and that makes Javi start to laugh, pulling you close and dipping you down as he presses his lips to yours like it’s the most romantic of romance movies.

The whirlwind moments that follow – running up the aisle together and back into the house, wrapping your arms around each other in the Great Hall after you've practically scampered through the open doors that let the warm, evening air into the house. There is a table waiting nearby with the paperwork to make your marriage official nearby, and the cameraman that is filming the wedding has followed at a respectful distance to capture the utter joy that is you and Javi kissing each other silly as you wait for your witnesses to join you inside.

“We are married!” He can’t believe it, even as he signs his name. “My middle name is Mateo.” He realizes that he’s never told you that. There’s so much for the two of you to learn about each other. He signs his complete name to the form and smiles up at you.

You tell him your middle name, too. The small things stack up on top of each other as you begin this crazy journey together. Including the second form that Tamara hands you, because Moira told her to make sure there was a copy. It is the form to file for changing your name now that you are married, and you nearly bite your lip as you start to fill it out. "I've...always figured I would take my husband's name," you tell him nervously. Wondering why the hell you're nervous. "Is that okay with you?"

Javi nods eagerly. “Perfect.” He agrees, knowing that the rest of his family legacy might be shameful, but this family he is starting with you will not be. “I— I would love for you to have my last name. Our family name.”

"Our family." You like the sound of that very, very much. It's so much better thinking of the family you'll make together than the one that has never even tried to understand you.

“Our family.” Both of you seem to melt at the idea. Unable to stop simpering as you close the gap between you and kiss again. Aware that you are being a little dramatic, Javi doesn’t even care.

Your friends let you indulge – it's your wedding day after all – but in these first few moments of wedding bliss, you barely have any concept of who is in the room with you. Moira is there, chatting with Tamara, and Javi's best man is interjecting in the conversation as well. It's all a whirl of joy that swirls around you until you finally tune into the conversation a few feet away.

"Um...sweetheart?" You pull back with confusion on your face, looking at Javi with furrowed eyebrows. "Is your best man Nick Fucking Cage?"

Javi looks at you in an equally confused fashion. “Um….yes?” He answers, tilting his head as he hears Nick laugh and starts to smile, looking back at him and then towards you. “You didn’t notice him before now? I called him with you in the car. He brought me my suit.” He reminds you.

"You called your best friend Nick in the car and...you told me separately about having Nick Cage come to your birthday party." Now you're laughing as you see that it should have been obvious. "I just...I didn't put the pieces together! And I was not paying attention to anyone but you just now."

“I see.” He chuckles with you and leans into kiss you. Turning, he guides you over to where Nick is talking with an obviously star-struck Moira. “Nick.” He hums happily. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my wife.” He grins, remembering how shocked Nick had been when he had facilitated his reunion with his own soulmate a few years ago. “Sweetheart, Nick Cage.”

"Hi Nick." In this moment you barely know what to do besides shake his hand, but this is your brand new husband's best friend, so when you end up hugging him it shouldn't really be a surprise.

“Nice to meet you.” Nick replies with a smooth smile and a sparkle to his eyes when he draws back and his own soulmate joins him at his side. “Honest to god, I’m glad to meet you.”

"Considering the circumstances?" You glance over at Javi and beam. "I'm very glad to be met." A shared laugh ripples through the group. "And obviously I'm very glad to meet both of you, too."

“Olivia.” Nick’s wife offers, reaching up and brushing his lapel lovingly. “It was a beautiful ceremony and it reminded me of our own wedding vows.”

"i am really looking forward to getting to know both of you." If you had been told yesterday that this conversation would be happening ever in your life, you would have called bullshit. But here you are, and you're beckoning Moira over to your side in the process. "Moira Whitney. My best friend in the entire world and an absolute angel of a human."

“Hi again.” Moira smiles, almost shyly but she’s still a little awestruck that she had a conversation with Nick Cage about your wedding.

"Why don't we go grab a drink?" Olivia suggests, knowing things like photos have to happen and the other guests will be filing up onto the terrace for cocktail hour.

“Absolutely.” She beams at how nice she is and nods before she looks at you. “Love birds? Would you like a drink?”

"Don't you worry about that." Scott appears with the camera man and your official wedding photographer, as well as Leslie. Your boss a tray of crystal-clear blue and bubbling glasses ready to go. "The caterers had a suggestion for a signature cocktail and I thought you'd like it," she confesses. "They're usually called Tiffany Mimosas, but for tonight, they're called The Something Blue."

Javi can see that you are absolutely over the moon at the idea. Melting and cooing at the light blue drinks. "Something blue?" He asks, tilting his head. "Right. The things a bride needs."

"She's also a sucker for anything Tiffany-themed." Moira tells him with a sly grin. "We threw her a Tiffany tea party for her birthday last year. Not like anything there was Tiffany at all, but we watched Breakfast at Tiffany's and had blue everything and everybody dressed up."

"Tiffany's." He nods seriously, making a note of the famous jeweler.

"Javi, that isn't necessary." You insist, knowing your best friend has just given him a lifetime of ideas. "Let's go and take photos, shall we?"

"Photos." Temporarily distracted, he pulls you close and hums as he presses his lips to yours. "You look so beautiful, you must have all the photos taken of you. To remember tonight. This moment."

"Where would you like to take them?" Leslie asks. An indulgent smile lights up her face that only grows wider when you light up. "Anywhere in the house. I know you both must have favorite rooms."

“The green marble room.” Javi immediately answers. “Where we met.”

"The billiard room. Absolutely." It's a perfect choice, of course, and a romantic one to boot.

"And the library?" Leslie asks, grinning. She knows it's your other favorite part of the house.

"And the cliffs?" Javi turns towards you to see what you think. "Unless you don't want to risk your dress?"

"Why not the bench?" You suggest, remembering that second day you met him with such affection. "We can take some photos out at the bench with the cliffs and the ocean in the background."

"Yes." He lights up. "I would love that." He smiles. "I wanted to ask you to dinner that day. At the bench."

"What stopped you?" The whole group of you start to move over to the billiard room together, and you hold Javi's hand with intertwined fingers as you go.

"I lost my nerve." He admits sheepishly, blushing slightly. "I did not think that you would accept."

It doesn't bear pointing out that you absolutely would have accepted, or that you might have known you were soulmates much sooner if he had gone out onto that limb. There is no use dwelling on what might have been when what lies ahead of you is so bright. "Well," you hum, tapping your sparkling champagne glass against his. "We will have a lifetime of dinners ahead of us."

“Yes.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his champagne. “Dinners and breakfasts. Movie nights. Even premiers.”

"It's all very Disney to me," you admit, and smile when he gives you a slightly confused look. "It's a whole new world."

“Ariel? No, no that is Jasmine.” He corrects himself quickly. “Aladdin.” It has been a long time since he’s seen the movie, but he’s proud of being able to recall it. “You like Disney?”

“Love it.” You’re practically floating at his side as you walk, just talking and holding his hand as you go. “I grew up on Disney and it always just stuck with me.”

“Then why don’t we go tomorrow?” He asks, smiling softly. “Spend our honeymoon at Disneyland? I have never been to one.”

“You wouldn’t think that was silly?” It sounds sweet and fun to you, but you wouldn’t do just about anything with him and it would seem perfect right now.

“No, I don’t think that there is anything I could do with you that would seem silly.” He admits with a small smile.

“Maybe we’ll collect ideas all through the night and decide tomorrow?” You feel positively light about the whole thing, not worrying about the logistics of anything for this night. Just wanting to bask in the glow of being a newlywed. At being with your soulmate.

“Perfect” Javi glows under the knowledge that you just want to be with him. That anything and everything is on the table. “Pictures, sí? For our children? When they ask how we met and married?”

"We will have more pictures than they can stand," you predict. Happily setting your glass down so that the photographer can shuttle you into whatever pose he sees fit.

******

Craft services pulled out every trick up their sleeves. Javi can’t believe all the finger foods and little bites they managed to prepare. And someone had managed to go out and get cases of champagne. He presses another glass into your hand as you are animatedly chatting to Olivia and Nick, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your pulse. “Wife.” He murmurs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume.

Married is your favourite word right now, and it's no surprise to you that Javi's seems to be wife. "Thank you. husband," you beam at him. Your cheeks are aching from smiling so much tonight. "Olivia and Nick were just inviting us to dinner next week. Dinner and a movie?" Apparently it is a Cage family tradition to do once during the week, and Javi was usually included in that, too. It seemed to make sense that you should start to join them as well.

“Would you mind?” He asks, looking ecstatic that you are considering it. “Nick’s library has grown tremendously over the years and now he will even watch his own movies with us and give us the behind the scenes commentary. Those nights are especially fun.”

"I would love to." If it were nothing more than an invitation from some nice, new friends, you would already be excited to accept. But that these are Javi's best friends? It turns the whole thing around and makes it probably the most important invitation you'll get all night. "But I insist on helping with dinner somehow. It's the least I can do."

“Oh, we normally order in.” Olivia tells you with a grin. “But if you want to help me come up with some themed menus for movies, that could be a lot of fun.”

“Absolutely.” Your eyes light up in delight all over again. These are definitely your kind of people. “I love a themed dinner.”

“Oh shit.” Nick huffs, although there’s an indulgent smile on his face. She has been hinting about wanting to do this for some time and she’s found a partner in crime.

"Your soulmate and I are turning out to have lots in common, Javi." Olivia tells him, enjoying Nick's near-exasperation that she has finally found someone to indulge in these ideas with.

"Oh...hardly." You shake your head and wave off that idea. "You have had an entire career with fashion, Olivia. I have a passing interest."

“Well, passing interest is still interest.” She hums. “And we can make sure that we get some fabulous designers to dress you for red carpet events. Sherry was telling me that Javi needs to attend these things.”

"You...would want me to go with you?" Somehow that thought hadn't yet occurred to you, and your eyebrows raise practically to your hairline in surprise when you look up at your husband.

Javi’s face immediately twists into something that could only be described as a pout. “You would not want to go?” He understands that it might not be your favorite activity, you might normally be more introverted than your job allows you to be when giving tours, but he had hoped to share this with you. He would want his soulmate by his side for everything, good and bad. Sharing the successes and lamenting failures.

"No, I would love to go." He looks so much like a puppy when he pouts like that, it might really be the sweetest thing in the world even though you never want him to be sad. It means you have your arms around his waist in less than a second to reassure him. "It never occurred to me that you would bring me with you. It just....hadn't dawned on me yet."

“You are my wife.” He huffs, almost insulted but placated by the notion you just hadn’t thought of it yet. “My soulmate. I want to have you with me for everything.”

"Then I'll be there for everything." Everything is suddenly a much larger notion to you, but it's still amorphous enough not to be daunting. The most important piece of it is him, after all. "Cross my heart."

“And I want to be there for you.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you passionately. Unable to believe he can do that whenever he wants now. “For everything.”

"I don't think," you giggle softly when he finally pulls back and you remember how to breathe again. "That the museum is going to have anything as big or flashy as a red carpet for you to fuss over."

“Then we should have the red carpet event here.” Javi suggests, lighting up at the idea.

"Oookay buddy." Nick chuckles, clapping Javi on one shoulder. "We don't have to plan another party all in one night, right?"

“Sorry.” He chuckles self-consciously as he shoots you a grin. “We should focus on our wedding before anything else.”

"There's no harm in being excited about the future." Though you see from Nick's handling of it and Javi's sheepish reaction that this may be a recurring reaction from your soulmate. He gets very excited about things and maybe gets carried away.

“See?” Javi grins at Nick, making the other man roll his eyes. “My soulmate likes it.” Nick had oftentimes teased Javi that his soulmate would have to be of the opposite disposition to put up with his somewhat free and spontaneous nature.

"I think getting excited for things is well worth it," you admit. "Maybe because there hasn't been too much to get excited about before, who knows. But a book release is the event of the year for me, usually."

“Book releases are important.” Javi agrees sagely. You must have a nice collection of books and it makes him wish he still had the library in Mallorca. You would have loved it.

"You really are my soulmate," you hum, delighted to hear that he likes to read as well.

“Is there any doubt?” He asks playfully and hums as he pulls you closer. “Should we dance? You look like you should dance.”

"We should definitely dance." It is the easiest thing in the world to be drawn away by him, and you won't apologize for the way it makes your heart take wing in your chest. Tonight really is just a perfect dream and he keeps making it better.

He knows the cameraman is still walking around, filming. Parts of this day will end up being in the bonus scenes and he really doesn’t mind. Sweeping you out to the dance floor, he agrees that your dress is perfect without the train. “Have we missed anything you wanted today?”

"Everything has been perfect." Even the sting of not having your family care about tonight has been soothed away by the appearance of this new family knitting together around you, and you hold him as happily close as possible as you move around the ballroom with him. "What about you? What else would make tonight perfect?"

“I cannot think of a single thing.” He admits softly. “Other than figuring out where we would like to spend tonight.”

The question warms you through and makes his hand on your waist feel all the more weighty and important. “Did you have a special idea? Or a preference?” For a moment you wonder if he, like you, has been living an implacably solo lifestyle. There is no way your little studio will be big enough for two.

“I have a little cottage.” Javi admits. “But maybe we can get a suite at a hotel? Make it special?” He wants you to be comfortable, to feel like you had more than just a rushed experience.

“A cottage?” The idea sounds so sweet to you that you almost sigh. “We could…stay at yours tonight? And plan the rest of the weekend over breakfast tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?” He’s a little shocked that you would want to stay in his little cottage rather than in a four star hotel with round the clock room service.

“Well, I would bring you home with me but there’s no way we would both be comfortable,” you reason, not thinking about the luxury for a second.

“I understand.” He nods, aware that you might not want him in your space. “I was just making sure you did not want room service?”

“Room service is fun.” You’ll never deny that. “But all I care about is walking up next to my soulmate tomorrow morning.”

The smile is slow as it spreads across his face, he’s shocked that his cheeks don’t hurt from how much he’s been smiling today. Just another miracle of finding you, finding his other half. “Okay.” He agrees softly. “I will show you my cottage. It’s—” he hesitates. “Temporary.” He promises. “Now that you are my wife, you can help me plan the building.”

“The building?” You ask, but he is already swept up in the music again and humming as he twirls you around the floor, conversation forgotten in favor of so much joy.

The night is perfect. The mood is so joyful that he believes every movie should be kicked off with a wedding. Or maybe it just bodes well for the fate of this movie.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[onlyangel4]

booking of the century. drew mcintrye. part two.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

warnings: slow burn. will be multiple parts. loss of a parent after medical event. angst (more to come).

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"look what the cat dragged in", jon hollered as soon as he spotted you outside the airport dragging your suitcase behind you.

“i swear down i will turn around and get on a plane home”, you laughed shaking your head, arms instinctively opening for trinity to run into.

“nope, i'm going to hug you as tight as possible so you never leave me again”, the woman teased from inside your arms making you laugh again as jon grabbed your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car.

“i still can’t believe boss man left us in charge of the biggest secret in modern wrestling”, jon exclaimed getting into the driver’s seat.

“it’s not that big of a secret, shaun and luis know as well”, you spoke but in reality you knew jon was right. other than the top dogs in production only four fellow wrestlers knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, the last smackdown before the chamber. It was a massive secret, one that you thought you would be unable to pull off but everything had slipped into place and now it was only a few hours before your highly anticipated return.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

getting to the stadium had been a huge blur, you had sat in the backseat in silence just listening to the friendly bickering from your two close friends in the front but your mind was somewhere else, it was stuck on him. he had no idea that you were coming back, how would he react? would he be angry at you for not telling him? only time would tell, and that made bile rise in your throat.

drew had been the person who believed in you when no one else did, he was the person who would drag you out of bed to train on your off days, he was your biggest fan and greatest inspiration, so surprising him in such a way felt wrong but hunter had convinced you that it was best for business, for both of you.

sometimes your mind wandered back to what could have been between the both of you, stuff was so fresh when your mother got ill, but if it had just been a year in the future maybe you would have let drew come home with you, maybe you would have let him support you in the way that he wanted to. but you couldn’t get hung up on maybes and what ifs. looking after your mother had been your number one priority and you had done your duty, now it was time to get back to work.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

a squeal pulled you out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the stadium and the back door of the car had been swung open, on the other side stood one of your closest friends, “there’s my girl” steph barely gave you enough time to get out of the car before her arms engulfed you in a mighty hug.

“jesus girl maybe you should be the one getting back in the ring, with all that strength of yours”, you teased your friend playfully before being led through a back entrance that had been specifically cleared for you.

“i feel like the president or some shit”

steph just shook her head at you before pulling you into a small room, “okay so you can get ready in here, hair and make up will come in here in about an hour, only let someone if they knock twice alright”, she spoke her voice turning professional.

“steph are you sure this is all necessary”

“yes we can’t have news of your return getting out this close to it, the internet is going to go mad”

you spoke to steph for about half an hour before she left to go to some sort of last minute meeting, then the hair and make up ladies came to the room and sorted you out ready for the show. the whole time you were in your own little world. part of you could not believe that this was really happening, that you were really back. another part of yourself was angry that you had not returned earlier, you missed the electric atmosphere that hung in the air pre show, the anticipation for what was going to come.

eventually enough time had lapsed and two knocks told you that it was time to go, you swung the door open and you were met with a familiar face, luis also known as damian priest, “i wasn’t going to believe that you were back until i saw you”

“in the flesh”, you smiled at the man

“we are on in five, you ready to go?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

drew did not know what to expect. he had been told to go out and shoot a promo ahead of the elimination chamber, talking about how he was going to win the chamber in a ruthless way, he had also been warned that there was going to be an interruption but that was all he knew. when drew had voiced worry about not knowing what to say when he did not have time to prepare hunter had just patted him on the back and said, “trust me, you will know exactly what to say”, the ominous reassurance from his boss left drew with more questions than answers.

but as a guy who always did what he was told drew just nodded and now he was stood in the centre of the ring, mic in his hands a mixture of cheers and boos radiating from the audience, something that made the scottish psychopath smirk as he cleared his throat.

“after tomorrow i am going to be the king of toronto”, the crowd booed in rebellion

“aw don’t be so sad, you are going to get the match of a lifetime, you get to watch me lay out all of your favourites”, he continued.

“i have been dead set of revenge ever since the rumble and nothing is going to get in my way”, then suddenly he was cut off by jimmy uso’s music as the man appeared down the bottom of the ramp, earning a huge pop from the crowd. drew was about to continue when jimmy held up a finger to his lips shhhing him. then la knight’s music played and the megastar arrived at jimmy’s side.

“what are you two doing here, i beat both of you. you have no place here”, drew spoke harshly.

“well you may have beaten both of us but neither us want you to win”, jimmy started

“we have our money on a different horse, a horse that actually has skill and not just rage”, la knight finished a smirk on his lips as damian priest’s music echoed through the stadium and the man entered.

“they might not be in the match but i am”, damian priest’s low voice echoed through the mic, “and I have some punishing to do”

“do you really think a conversation with you and your war dogs is going to throw me off my game? are you really that stupid”, drew spoke laughing at the man’s attempt but damian simply shook his head.

“you are difficult person to get information on drew, with the likes of rollins and punk I can just bring up their families and get under their skin. but not you. it really got me thinking. but then i remembered we have a friend in common and i invited them to toronto to watch me destroy you”

“no one you bring here could throw me off my ga-“, drew couldn’t even finish his sentence when your music began to play, a song that he had not heard in four whole years and the wind was knocked right out of him.

the crowd went fucking mental when they saw you walk to damian’s side, you had been a fan favourite during your time in the company, with many calling you a modern day aj lee. they loved you and they still did.

drew could not believe it, the woman that had left his life just as he had been falling in love with her was at the top of the ring eyes trained on him, a light smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and that worried the man slightly, maybe you weren’t ready to be back, maybe you didn’t want to see him. His mind was racing and his face was blank as he looked straight at you.

“what’s wrong bro you look like you have seen a ghost”, jimmy chuckled as he looked at drew.

“y/n is here to just make sure that you aren’t all talk, you say that you are going to win the chamber no matter what, she is just here to show the world that you are a liar”, la spoke his hand resting on your shoulder.

“you’ve made this personal”, drew spat out

“this has always been personal, you forgot that because you have not had anyone you care about in the wings for four years”, damian shot back.

then you finally lifted the mic up to your lips, “see you tomorrow drew”, the lights went out in the stadium and you and the three man had disappeared leaving drew along in the ring dumbfounded.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“holy shit y/n I did not know the crowd could even get that loud”, jon spoke squeezing your shoulder making you laugh, “I’m so glad you are back”, he spoke as he walked back stage with you.

“i’m glad to be back”

the next few moments were a blur with superstars that did not know of your return running over to give you a hug and welcome you back into the company and you were smiling, properly this time. maybe you had been worried for nothing, maybe you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by people that loved you and wanted the best for you.

eventually you manged to escape the crowd of people that had surrounded you, heading down to your dressing room, pulling your hair out of it’s high pony as you walked, opening the door as your hair fell over your shoulders, finally free.

what you had not been expecting had been to see drew stood in the room, eyes locked on the door arms crossed over his chest.

you froze eyes looking at the man, daring him to do something, daring him to shout at you for ambushing him without warning, expecting anger from the large man in front of you. but instead his gaze softened, eyes became warned as he closed the distance between you his arms welcoming you into an all too familiar hug that you melted into. Drew kept his arms around you, holding you close as if you would disappear if he let go of you. he then leant down to your ear lips barely centimetres away from your skin.

“we have a lot to talk about”

[cipheramnesia]

I mean, I fully agree, and a podcast idea is how I ended up writing a novel about a werewolf girl and her best friend the giant alive alien warship, plus also what keeps me going on my new WIP about a dead superpowered transgender cyborg woman who has been reanimated by mutant tapeworms and whether or not what she experiences is still love, plus a new short story which uses the mech pilot trope combined with the 80s slasher movie template, and those are the main thing I'm focused on (so as to make sure each project is finished before starting a new one) - the novels I'm doing because that's the story size and short form is what I'm going to aim at publication, so they're both pretty consistent projects fueled by the want to just do the thing.

And a fictional audio drama podcast is often a multiperson endeavor and even as a single person project (which the above idea could be, but it would work better with a small cast) I'd at a bare minimum need to get to a very strong level of competent practice with recording and editing and sound mixing, which is a little daunting but doable, it's all doable except I have all these other projects and part of working them is proving I can commit to large writing projects, work them on a schedule, and produce them in a relatively clearly defined timeline. So the stuff I'm working on and have finished is like, I guess, proof of concept that I can do the writing to schedule type of work a podcast would benefit from however, in a sort of Catch 22 situation, if I drop my wip to chase every new idea (I have a dozen or so in a notebook and add more when I think of them), it would show exactly the kind of flighty lack of follow through that wouldn't make anyone confident in my ability to jump into a project and see it through.

So, anyway, point I'm getting to here is there's no worry about whether I'll start an idea and finish it - but this particular idea isn't one I would be able to start any time in the immediate future on my own, but I very much could develop draft and finish it handily with some sort of commitment from someone with the kind of access and knowledge needed to turn a writing into a recorded and published drama. But, being as I don't have any of that, I must stick to my current schedule, and this one will go in my notebook for later.

Can't sleep because I'm worried that the small and ultimately fleeting comforts I enjoy, and which carry me through the day, are an addictive way to numb myself against the deeply unpleasant reality of the world which I cannot fully accept, and as their ability to successfully allow my continued perseverance wanes over time they will gradually compound until their cost itself becomes incorporated into my continuously escalating anxiety.

[astroyongie]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Special March Podcast ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

➤ Note: Yesterday on my podcast we have covered quite a few things! To celebrate my birthday I decided to share a sum up of what was shared.

➤ All was done live through tarot. Take with a grain of salt. Names censored for obvious reasons.

➤ NCT 127: X has been known in the industry for being quite an opened person when it comes to relationships. Although he has done several age ranges (all legal ones), it seems like X now only go for people around the 20-24. At least, that's his preference of age.

➤ Red Velvet: X back in the day, was super close to another member's partner who was an idol all of you know about. However, despite X not having a crush on this idol or anything, there was some type of attraction here. X became way too close with that idol which made her member break up with the idol.  

➤ Stray Kids: Many people asked why did X finally gave in into a relationship after so long of not accepting one. That's maybe because the people who wanted a relationship with him never made him feel safe enough and probably overwhelmed him. He is dating an idol.

➤ Aespa: X feels like her idol image is unrealistic and she feels really sad and pity when people compliment her looks or when she hears fans telling her that they want to be like her. Because X knows that everything she shows isn't the reality and that her idol image is very different from who she is. Also there's a lot of jealousy and competition between her and the other members for spotlight and opportunities

➤ TXT: X keeps repeating the cycles. Back in 2021-2022 when he was dating that well known idol, she broke up with him because she thought he had cheated on her with her best friend. which wasn't the case. Recently, X went to a private airy with his partner and a few friends. During that party one girl friend got really drunk (passed out). He tried to be a good man, and take her to a private room so she could rest, but the scene might have looked very wrong when his partner got inside the room.

➤ Gidle: X had had such a hard life when it comes to men that it is really good to see her being happy with someone finally. She is making peace with her traumas and getting better

➤ Seventeen: X is married since 2024 (elope). He isn't the only idol who have small "marriages through paper signing". 

➤ Blackpink: X's relationship is a serving one, where she can get what she needs from her partner and he can get his fetishism. X also does not enjoy the fan contact (people bothering her in the street, asking for hugs or pics can often annoy her).

➤ BTS: X's dating rumor was at the beginning nothing but a marketing move. However the more it went the more it had severe consequences in his personal life

➤ Itzy: You can expect some great news for Itzy as a global (this summer from what I gathered). Either a solo (not Yeji's), a tour, a full comeback, a member leaving or a disband. X is also currently dating someone twice her age

➤ Ateez: X has been for the past months having a fling with a woman who wasn't married but she had a kid and was around the baby daddy (he seemed to be quite toxic and not present). This girl didn't wanted to be in a relationship with X for obvious reasons. But it seems that recently they got together, simply because X showed what it meant to be present, to provide and to love.

➤ IVE: X is currently in a. very discreet/secret relationship because she is seeing a political man (who seen to be older and married). Red party from what we gathered int he podcast.

➤ The Boyz: X has been having this fling with someone who was in a relationship. However X must have either been too much, too overwhelming or they might be too scary for this person as they decided to leave Seoul just to get away from X who might have been forcing them to be around.

➤ Le Sserafim: X has been the cause for a recent divorce and also she is currently in a relationship with brown hair male idol. his last performance he was dressed in full white 

➤ Enhypen: X is really conservative when it comes to his values, his morals and his way of leaving. despite being someone extremely loyal to his partners he also expect from the to be the typical traditional Korean house wife. He doesn't get in relationship with women who aren't "pure"

➤Twice: X might be planing either a marriage or moving out together with her idol partner

[knuckle]

On Helly R's fate and the tragedy of becoming Helena

As someone who does enjoy tragedy, the most interesting direction, and the one I feel the narrative supports is for Helly to eventually become Helena and for this to be a tragedy. "But wait," you might ask, "Isn't it narratively satisfying to delve into nurture vs. nature, and to explore Helly as a good and kind person, also to highlight the practices of the cult of Eagan? Wouldn't it be most satisfying to see her take control or possibly reintegrate with Helena in a way that preserves her morals and convictions?"

I will say no, I feel like this is wish fulfillment in the exact same way the racist segment of the fandom thought Gemma being alive was wish fulfillment. The practice and process of the severance procedure is meant to be horrific and terrifying. Due to the complexity of the brain implant, I find it personally difficult to think that severance can last without complications for a person's entire life. This would eventually turn into reintegration; I feel the neat "tuck away the other person" narrative is not one that can or should last. Knowing how much the brain chips can be messed with, I truly believe the best ending of the show ends in everyone reintegrating and the end of all severance. Where the innies all get to live on as memories of a person together.

We already know that the sadness and emotions of the innies/outies takes its toll on whatever personality is currently awake. Due to this, I believe even seemingly completely opposed personalities like Helena and Helly are actually just two ways the same personality manifests. Because of that, I believe the most narratively satisfying outcome (to me) is for Helly to essentially become the questioning/rebellious and moral phase that many conservatives had when they were younger. She will not disappear but those facets of her personality are part of what informs Helena as a person.

The process of losing a friend from your youth who came from a privileged background to the allure of power and prestige is something that's not depicted enough in media - at least not with characters we're meant to root for as much as Helly. I find that the fandom is generally in denial to a degree about Helena's privilege because they see her as just a victim. I've even seen comparisons of Helly and Gemma's situation when of course they are not the same. Lumon will never kill Helly, will never do anything to physically endanger her because she is ultimately their future.

It is the same as children who are born into wealthy families - they may face abuse, but it is not the same level as the people they have privilege over. So in this case, what happens if Helly and Helena reintegrate - whose morality would dominate, and whose memories and experiences would feel less important? I cannot help but feel that it would become a "phase" to Helly, that she would still find that despite the personal costs or her past experiences, she would believe in being part of a greater purpose and having a grand influence - because she would also have Helena's memories. If she does not "die" when she reintegrates to still make the choice to side with power, and for that choice to make sense. We have already seen Helly is willing to make great sacrifices if she believes in a mission, with all of Helena's years of perspective, would she believe in that same mission?

She would have the opposite arc of Milchick, who is (hopefully) coming to realize that Lumon oppresses and controls him as well, that he does not ultimately agree with its mission, that he is being used, and being treated in a racist way despite probably being like Ms. Cobel, indoctrinated into Lumon. If we want a woman to break free of Lumon, Cobel has far less privilege than Helena, has been used and disposed of. Helena is a billionaire heiress who ultimately has much more power and much more invested in Lumon than either of them. How should she be the one to break from it?

Personally, I feel this is a much more interesting story of loss than the one the fandom at large had wanted to tell with Gemma. We have seen the "I am a white man, and I must learn to healthily cope with the dead wife" fridging trope over and over again in media. We have seen the disposable woman of color make way for the white woman. How often have we seen: "This person was a good person who I loved, who would sacrifice for me. They were born into privilege. And they had an opportunity - a faraway school, moving out from their parents, or even being severed - where they seemed like they would go in a different direction, but the allure of capitalism and power ultimately turned that person into our enemy. It's not completely her fault, it's the fault of the world, but I have to mourn who they were and fight who they have chosen to be?" As Mark has said, Helly and Helena are like each other. As Irving said, the difference (for now) is that Helly is not cruel.

In the end, I believe because Lumon has been aware of Mark and Gemma's relationship at least since they visited the fertility clinic because a Lumon doctor was there, and then tore them apart at a time that would emotionally devastate both of them. Helena knew this. Helena locked Gemma in a basement, sexually assaulted Mark under false pretenses (possibly to get herself pregnant), perhaps Lumon ensnared the both of them with the specific purpose of finding the people who could psychologically fulfill the Cold Harbor experiment. As a fan of the show who still believes in bold choices and tragedy, I believe Helly being the one who is getting a tragic ending is the best way to resolve this love triangle rather than killing Gemma or Mark - the "death" of Helly would not be a true death, but rather the death of who she was without Helena's experiences once she is reintegrated. Helena would be a more tragic character, who feels conflict, empathy, whose ideas of the innies as subhuman may even be gone, but ultimately chooses her legacy and power. And the tragedy is that those who once loved her must accept that this is her choice.

This probably feeds into the petty shipping wars that led to the misogynistic (and racist) fan perceptions of Gemma, but since the framework of comparing their roles has been so prevalent in the fandom, I feel it must be addressed this way.

[supernotnatural2005]

I'm sorry Wayne!!! 😫😅

I promise it gets better, several chapters away... 👀 I kid, but we do have to suffer just a lil more 🤏🏻

First of all, DISAGREE with every single rule they've put up.

It's completely dumb. And again I can't apologise enough for their idiocy! 😂 I think they're both just scared of the others rejection, because some how, despite everything, they still think it's just 'casual' for the other. Neither wants the awkwardness that would come after. But still, they're dumb! And we've just gotta watch these little people figure it all out...

I love how realistic she is on one hand, but still can't fucking stop herself. It's like brain goes bye-bye whenever Dean enters 😂💕

this right here! 😂 She's got Dean-mush-brain. Nothing is logical around him!

Love that Ellen instantly picked up on her vibes when asked about Dean. So like her! And I love that you paired Jo with Cole!! They would make a great match 😍

That woman is see all, know all 👀 I love her! ☺️ And it was something I just ran with, I know Cole was a bit of a whine in the show, very egotistical, but I feel like Jo would be perfect to squash that!

Poor guy will literally never be the same after she's done with him 😅🫶 I also slowly get the sinking feeling she'll be the asshole that screws up and his heart will be broken 💔

I mean I won't spoil anything, but there are some scarily close moments that may or may not get resolved, and by which character, we'll have to see.. I may have kept a little inside the lines with this one, but close enough to the edge to keep it risky 👀 (that probably makes no sense but, its all I got 😂)

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! This hits all the right spots (literally and figuratively) ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Can't get enough of the idiocy, the angst, the cuteness, and the goddamn hotness! You're killing it, friend 🫶👏

I'm so glad and honoured you're enjoy this series so far! It means a lot! I can't wait to share more 😊

The Arrangement - Part Three

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You and Dean come to an arrangement to navigate what is happening between you. However, is it just a sure fire way to complicate things even more?

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT!(18+ONLY!!!) like double smut 😅, fluff, the usual idiots in denial, mentions of non-major character death.

AN: Here we are with chapter 3, we finally meet the readers family and delve a little more into her background, as well as her situation with Dean. I hope you all enjoy 💕

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist < Catch up here!

You woke with a soft sigh, the morning light flittering in through the gap in your curtain, almost blinding you as you peeped an eye open. You rolled over onto your other side and found Dean still sleeping soundly. 

Your stomach twisted.

For some reason, seeing him still here, sprawled out in your bed like he belonged there, sent something unwanted crawling beneath your skin.

It wasn’t supposed to feel different.

It wasn’t different.

After your initial coupling the night before, where the arrangement was made—a deal in which you both could take advantage of whilst adhering to the other’s wants—it had been simple. Strictly sex without the strings. Some would call it a friends with benefits situation, but you found that term a little tasteless, too on the nose.

You’d come up with some rules, boundaries if you will, to ensure things didn’t become complicated. (Not that that ship hadn’t already sailed, but whatever.)

Either of you could call it off whenever you wanted. No hard feelings.

No sleepovers (though last night was an exception).

And most importantly, no matter what, you wouldn’t let this ruin your friendship.

(Though, if you were being honest, that ship might’ve already sailed too.)

But then, somewhere between setting the terms and conditions, one thing had led to another, and before you knew it, you’d been tangled up in him all over again.

There was just something about Dean that made you reckless, made you lose yourself completely. By the time you finally passed out, thoroughly spent, it had been well into the early hours of the morning, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air.

And now, Dean was still here. Right beside you, fast asleep, snoring softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing over him before you could stop yourself.

You had never really had the chance to admire him like this. Sure, you always knew Dean was attractive—it was an objective fact, really—but now, after having him in every way imaginable, it was something else entirely.

The sharp angles of his face, softened by sleep. The light freckles dusting across his nose. The way his hair stuck up in messy tufts, still showing evidence of your fingers tangling in it hours ago.

You shouldn’t be looking at him like this.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this.

You tore your gaze away, exhaling slowly.

This was fine. It was fine.

So what if something in your chest ached? So what if, for one stupid second, you wished this could be more?

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be. And you knew that.

Dean was still free to date, to go out and find the girl of his dreams. And you?

You’d just be the best friend he screwed a couple of times and nothing more.

That’s what you agreed to.

That’s what you wanted.

Right?

As if on cue, a sign to quell your spiralling thoughts, Dean shifted slightly, his breathing hitching as he rolled onto his back, and your eyes drifted down before you could stop yourself.

The blanket had slipped low on his hips, and beneath it, you caught the telltale shape of his arousal, hard and curving upward beneath the fabric.

Instinctively, your thighs pressed together, and then an idea formed. A bold, shameless, possibly reckless idea.

But the whole point of this arrangement was to indulge in each other's needs, wasn’t it?

Slowly, carefully, you slipped beneath the covers, inching closer until you settled between his spread thighs. The warmth of his skin met your lips as you brushed a kiss along his hip bone.

Dean stirred with a low groan, but it wasn’t until you wrapped your fingers around him - admiring the warm, velvety weight of him before you took him into your mouth - that he truly woke up.

"Shit—" His voice was hoarse, thick with sleep as his hips jerked up. One of his hands tangled into your hair, his fingers flexing, holding rather than pushing. "You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?"

You hummed around him in response, sending a shudder through his body as your mouth slid up and down his length, suckling and licking along his shaft. His grip in your hair tightened, and his abs flexed beneath your fingertips. But you kept going, taking your time, savouring every reaction he gave you. 

Dean never stood a chance.

With a strangled groan, he came, his muscles going taut as you eagerly swallowed everything he gave, before he finally slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving. You pressed a final, teasing kiss to his hip before emerging from beneath the covers with a smirk.

Dean ran a hand down his face, chuckling breathlessly. "Damn. I think I could get used to this.”

You chuckled as you went to move away, when Dean’s hand caught your arm. You paused and met his dark gaze. “Where d’ya think your goin’?” 

You arched an amused brow at his tone. “To shower?” 

Dean shook his head, and before you could react, he was dragging you up his body, shifting you until you were kneeling either side of his head.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding as realisation settled in.

His pupils were blown wide as he looked at you—at the most intimate part of you, on full display for him.

His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, palms firm as he cupped your ass, squeezing appreciatively.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with want. “Look at you.”

Before you could form a response, he leaned up, dragging his tongue in a slow, broad stripe between your folds.

Your head fell back with a sharp gasp, fingers grasping for the headboard as he did it again—this time, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you.

“You can lower yourself, sweetheart,” Dean murmured against your skin, his grip tightening as he tugged you down further.

You hesitated, the vulnerability of the position making you self-conscious. But Dean wasn’t having it. He tugged you the rest of the way, making you gasp as you fully settled over his mouth.

Then he went to work.

Dean ate you like a man starved, his grip firm, his tongue relentless. Your hips rocked on instinct, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as the pleasure built, as he guided you exactly where he wanted you.

He groaned beneath you, the sound vibrating against your core, sending another sharp pulse of pleasure through your body.

You barely had time to think—only to feel, only to chase the high he was so determined to give you.

Your thighs trembled around his head, your grip on the headboard tightening as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. Dean's tongue worked you over with practiced precision, flicking and circling before dragging slow, deliberate strokes through your folds. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, guiding you into a slow grind against his mouth.

The pleasure was dizzying, a fire licking up your spine, consuming every inch of you. Your breaths turned to gasps, then whimpers, then broken cries as the pressure built, threatening to snap.

“D-Dean—” His name came out in a desperate whine, your body caught between the need to get closer and the overwhelming intensity of his touch. He groaned in response, the vibrations shooting straight through you. And then, with one last flick of his tongue over your clit, the coil inside you shattered.

Your whole body tensed before a violent shudder rocked through you, your vision going white as the pleasure exploded, wave after wave crashing over you. Your hips bucked against his mouth as he held you there, drawing out every last aftershock, every last ounce of pleasure he could wring from you.

Only when you whined in overstimulation did he finally ease up, pressing one last slow, lazy kiss to your swollen, pulsing centre before releasing his grip on your hips. You slumped forward, chest heaving, bracing yourself against the headboard as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean chuckled beneath you, his hands smoothing up and down your thighs, giving them a playful squeeze. “Now that,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction, “is one hell of a way to wake up.”

You huffed out a laugh, your body still buzzing in the aftermath as you carefully climbed off him, rolling onto your side beside him. “No kidding,” you murmured, still breathless. “And here I was, thinking I’d be the one in charge this morning.”

Dean turned his head to look at you, a smug grin on his lips, his face still glistening with the evidence of what he’d just done. “What can I say? You inspired me.”

You smacked his chest lightly, making him chuckle. “Well, I think we just broke, like, half of our rules before we even got out of bed.”

Dean stretched, arms resting behind his head, utterly unbothered. “Eh. Rules were made to be bent a little.”

You gave him a look. “Bent?”

He smirked. “Okay, maybe broken.”

You shook your head with a laugh, finally forcing yourself to sit up. “Alright, I need a shower. A very long, very cold shower.”

Dean hummed, reaching over to give your hip a squeeze. “Or… I could join you, and we could keep breaking rules.”

You groaned, throwing a pillow at his face. “Dean.”

He just laughed, catching it with ease. “What? Just putting it out there.”

Shaking your head, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, feeling his gaze trailing over you as you walked toward the bathroom. You paused in the doorway, glancing back at him with an arched brow.

“Stay put, Winchester,” you warned playfully.

Dean held his hands up in surrender, that damn smirk still on his face. “No promises, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. And even as the water rushed over your skin, washing away the evidence of the morning’s activities, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were in way over your head.

By the time you had reappeared, showered and dressed for the day, Dean was - thankfully - fully clothed and plating up some eggs and toast in the kitchen. 

He gave you a lazy smile when he spotted you, and placed one of the plates down in front of you when you took a seat at the kitchen island. 

“Thanks.” You told him gratefully. After the past twenty-four hours, having arguably the most sex you’d had in almost a year, you’d definitely worked up an appetite. Dean took a seat next to you and you both dug in. 

Breakfast passed by surprisingly smoothly. If you were being honest, you’d expected at least a little awkwardness now that you’d both left the bedroom and returned to some semblance of normalcy. But there was none. The easy banter and casual conversation flowed just as it always had, and what had transpired only 30 minutes ago was never brought up. 

Not that it needed to, this was how you’d hoped for it to be. Maybe you underestimated yours and Dean’s ability to be actual grown ups about this. 

“So, I’m driving down to pick up Sam tomorrow.” Dean told you as he gathered your plates and took them to the sink to wash. 

“Drive? Is he not flying in next week?” You asked. Christmas wasn’t until the weekend and Sam was all the way out in Stanford. You assumed flying was the only logical, quicker way of getting home. 

Dean turned on the faucet, rinsing off a plate. “He tried, but the earliest flight he could get was the twenty-seventh.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you got up to help dry and put things away. “Does the kid not know how to pre-book a flight or something?”

Dean chuckled, hands deep in suds. “You’d think with all those brains to get into a school like Stanford, he’d be smarter.”

“Maybe he’s got girl brain.” You teased. “Is he still seeing that Jess?” Sam had mentioned a girl he’d started seeing on his last venture home, he’d seemed pretty smitten then. 

Dean nodded, handing you the last dish. “Yeah, I’m picking her up too.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow. That serious, huh? Guess it’s the real deal if he’s subjecting her to us lot.”

“Hey, speak for yourself. I’m a delight.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’re the worst of us all.” You said as you picked up your steaming cup of coffee.

Dean gaped at you in mock offence. “The hell I am!”

You hid a chuckle behind your coffee cup as Dean poured himself another. The playful bickering continued, and despite how nothing about this situation was normal, it somehow felt like it was.

“Well, with you gone for the next day or so, that gives me time to wrap gifts. And yes, that includes the ones you got for your family,” you cut in before he could even ask.

“You’re the best,” he grinned, looking way too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes. Wrapping Dean’s gifts had become an annual chore—one you’d taken on after watching everyone struggle through layers of newspaper and duct tape one too many times. Now, that particular misfortune was yours alone.

"Alright, I should get going. The old man’s been hounding me long enough," you huffed, slipping on your boots and grabbing your winter jacket from the wall rack.

Because of the lead up to Christmas, everything had been extra crazy at work. Dick Roman, your boss, was very anal about things, your office was probably about the only one still open the week leading up to the holiday’s. 

So, for that fact, you hadn’t had much time to visit Bobby lately. And with Christmas bound to be pure chaos—thanks to both your family and Dean’s—you knew today was your best shot at a real catch-up before the holiday madness set in.

“Right, yeah” Dean agreed and looked as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. 

“You got any plans?” You enquired, noticing his hesitancy and he shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll probably just work on the car, maybe pack a bag. Long drive tomorrow.” He hummed and you nodded. 

“Sounds depressing.” You deadpanned and Dean shot you a look. 

“Alright, Singer. Get outta here.” He shooed you out the door hearing your laughter as he closed it behind you. 

The moderate drive to your family home was a one loaded with thoughts of a certain green eyed man. You knew you were screwed, setting yourself up for heartbreak. However well you and Dean were handling things now, you believed it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. You were a pessimist, after all. 

But did that mean you’d stop it before it got to that point?

Not a chance.

Not when you’d just had four mind-blowing orgasms in the span of a few hours. Not when Dean had ruined every other man for you. Because even if this was just an arrangement, how the hell were you ever supposed to let anyone else warm your bed after him?

You’d well and truly screwed yourself. And you had no one to blame but you.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Dean wasn’t faring much better.

Why the hell did you agree to this again?

Oh, right. Because you’re a goddamn idiot.

Dean sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he leaned against the counter. He’d let his downstairs brain do the thinking instead of the one that actually mattered. And now? Now, he was in deep shit.

Because, yeah, this whole arrangement was supposed to be no strings, just fun. But how was that possible now he actually got to have you. Before he learned just how amazing being with you was— how it was better than he ever could’ve imagined. 

Dammit. 

He had no one to blame but himself. 

The familiar crunch of gravel under your tires sent a wave of nostalgia rolling over you as you pulled up to your childhood home. A modest, two-story farmhouse, nestled a little out of the way, but still standing strong despite the years. Out back, your dad’s pride and joy stretched across the property—the scrap yard, a graveyard of metal and machinery that had once been your playground.

Memories stirred—hot summer days spent weaving through rusted-out shells of old cars, hands stained with grease as Bobby taught you the difference between a carburettor and an alternator. At first, it had been just you, running wild with an overactive imagination. 

Then Jo came along, and suddenly, you had a partner in crime. And when Dean joined in, the three of you were unstoppable, turning the yard into your own personal jungle gym, crafting make-believe adventures where you were pirates, outlaws, or world-class race car drivers.

But for all the warmth those memories carried, a familiar pang of sadness settled in your chest as your eyes drifted to the front porch. You had only spent a small part of your life here with your mother before she got sick. She had died when you were five—too young to remember much, but what you did recall was vivid. She was beautiful. She was warm. She loved you. That much, you knew for certain.

Your father had spent the better part of a decade alone after she passed, never so much as looking at another woman. But then Ellen came along—not as a whirlwind romance, but as something steady and unshakable. She had been your distant neighbour for years, and when he told you they were together, it hadn’t been a shock. It had made sense. The kind of deep, unspoken sense that settled into your bones.

Ellen had filled a space in your life neither you nor your father had realised needed filling. She didn’t try to replace your mother, but she became something else entirely—something just as important. And with her came Jo. Not a sister by blood, but one in every way that mattered. You had both lost a parent, and in return, gained a new one through your father and Ellen’s love for each other. It was one of the few things in your life you were endlessly grateful for.

You barely had a second to step out of your car before Bobby’s voice grumbled through the crisp mid-afternoon air.

“Took you long enough to show up,” he muttered, wiping his hands on an old rag as he straightened up from under the hood of a car - that had clearly seen better days.

You smirked, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Traffic,” you deadpanned. “And also, I like to make an entrance.”

Bobby huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. He had always appreciated your sharp tongue—probably because you’d inherited it from him. But beneath that tough exterior, you had your mother’s heart—open, vulnerable, and full of a quiet kind of strength that even Bobby, for all his gruffness, had always recognised.

“C’mere,” he grumbled, his voice as gruff as ever, but his eyes warm. You barely had time to react before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into one of his signature bear hugs. You melted into it, breathing in the familiar scent of motor oil and worn leather.

“Ellen’s put on a lasagna since she heard you were stopping by,” he said as he pulled back with a knowing smile.

You chuckled. “That woman spoils me.”

Bobby scoffed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Hey.” You chuckled, nudging him in the side as he guided you into the house with an arm around you.

The second you stepped through the door, the rich aroma of Ellen’s home-cooked meal wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Your stomach grumbled in response, and mouth watered.

“Man, that smells good,” you hummed.

Ellen turned at the sound of your voice, her face lighting up as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and made her way over.

“How you doin’, darlin’?” she asked, pulling you into a tight embrace before stepping back to cup your face. She gave you a once-over, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lookin’ a little thin. You eatin’ alright?”

You rolled your eyes, waving her off. “Yes, woman.”

She arched a brow, smirking. “Alright, alright. Just after the other night, I wanted to make sure you’re in good spirits, is all.”

Your stomach twisted slightly. She was, of course, referring to the night you had stormed into the Roadhouse after your disaster of a date with Gary, drowning your frustration in whiskey shots with Jo until the night spiralled completely out of control. 

The night you kissed Dean.

It was only two days ago, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed, so much had happened since, and your mind was still trying to make sense of it all.

Bobby cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Yeah, I heard about that,” he muttered, disapproval evident in his tone, though it wasn’t directed at you. “Glad to hear you gave that jackass what was comin’ to him.”

You smirked. “He shouldn’t have worn white.”

That earned you a chuckle, and as the mid-afternoon bled into the evening, conversation flowed naturally. The usual check-ins—how work was going, plans for Christmas, updates on Jo’s training at the academy. She was top of her class, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Then, they asked about Dean.

You stiffened for just a second—so quick that anyone else might have missed it. But not Ellen.

You kept your answers short, careful. You brought up how the Winchester brothers had already been pestering about Ellen’s famous stuffing, which seemed to distract her enough. 

Ellen shook her head with a small, fond smile, despite the way she tried to maintain her hard exterior. “Those boys sure know how to butter me up,” she muttered, shaking her head.

By the time Jo came barreling through the front door, you were well past starving, but the sight of her wide grin made you forget about food for a moment.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show their face,” she teased, dropping into the chair beside you with an easy familiarity.

“You act like it’s been years.”

“Felt like it,” she shot back with a dramatic sigh, earning a scoff from you.

“I saw you two days ago.”

“Yeah, and I don’t remember it,” she admitted with a chuckle. The two of you had always been terrible influences on each other whenever alcohol was involved.

You laughed, shaking your head, then Jo straightened up, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Anyway, now that you’re here, I’ve got some prime gossip.”

With an exaggerated flourish, she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder like she was about to spill the juiciest secret in the world.

You arched a brow, smirking. “Oh?”

Jo didn’t waste a second before launching into a dramatic retelling of her ongoing rivalry with some guy named Cole. The way she spoke about him—full of exasperation, plenty of complaints, but with just a little too much intensity—made it obvious. She either hated him with every fibre of her being, or she was in complete denial about the fact that she might actually like the guy.

“Let me guess,” you interjected, smirking. “Classic ‘annoy the girl because you secretly like her’ situation?”

Jo scoffed. “What? No! He’s an ass.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He is! He’s—he’s cocky, and thinks he’s the best at everything, and—”

“And you like him,” you finished smugly.

Her mouth snapped shut, cheeks tinting the slightest bit pink.

Ellen chuckled. “I’d say she’s onto somethin’, kid.”

Jo groaned, dropping her forehead against the table as Bobby snorted into his beer.

The house hummed with warmth and familiarity, a stark contrast to the mess in your head. For a moment, just a moment, you let yourself breathe—pushing aside the tangled thoughts of Dean, of what had happened, of what it might mean.

You would deal with that later.

For now, you were home.

It was nearing 7 p.m. when you finally said your goodbyes, somehow getting roped into making a dessert for Christmas. You knew Mary was already bringing her famous apple pie, but Ellen had scolded you at your whining, reminding you that it was only right to have more than one.

The drive home wasn’t long, but with every passing mile, anticipation curled tight in your chest. It was a new experience, in some ways, it excited you—the not knowing, the spontaneity of it all. But at the same time, it killed you, leaving you on edge.

When you stepped inside the apartment, Dean was nowhere to be found—at least, not at first. You set your bag down and were about to call out for him when the faint sound of running water caught your attention.

The shower.

And just like that, an impulsive thought struck you again—one you didn’t bother fighting. Maybe you just had a ridiculously high sex drive all of a sudden. Or maybe it was just Dean, but you found yourself standing before the closed bathroom door, teeth sinking into your lip as you hesitated. 

Maybe it was too much. Too soon. But there wasn’t exactly a rule in place limiting to how many times you could fuck.

So, without another thought, you quietly slipped inside.

Steam curled in the air, thick and warm, and through the frosted glass, you could make out Dean’s silhouette. His broad, muscled frame, the way water cascaded down his skin—it had your body heating with need in an instant.

He was humming to himself, the tune unmistakably Metallica, as you made quick work of your clothes, letting them pool at your feet until you were completely bare.

Slowly, you padded across the floor, stopping just outside the shower door. With one last exhale of doubt, you pulled it open and stepped inside.

Dean startled, his head whipping toward you, eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and surprise.

“What the—”

Before he could finish, his expression twisted in pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shit.” He hissed, rubbing furiously at them as soap trickled down into his lashes.

Biting back a laugh, you reached for his arm and guided him under the spray, watching as the water rinsed the suds away. Okay, maybe this wasn’t quite as sexy as you had planned.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he turned to you, first in disbelief—then in something far more dangerous. His gaze darkened, sweeping over you from head to toe, and fuck. He could never get used to this. To you.

Perfect.

“Well, this is somethin’,” he smirked with a hint of uncertainty, though his eyes didn’t refrain form dragging over every inch of your bare skin, in a way that made you shiver.

“I needed a shower,” you shrugged, trying for innocence, but the way you bit your lip and the heat in your gaze said otherwise.

“Is that right?” Dean hummed, stepping closer, his body crowding yours in the already confined space. Your breath hitched, your eyes flickering from his to his lips, down his chest, and lower to where he was already hardening for you.

Your pussy clenched at the sight, the memory of how good he felt inside you hitting like a lightning strike.

“Just trying to save water,” you added, voice breathless.

“Yeah, smart thinkin’,” Dean murmured, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper. Darker. His fingers brushed along your waist, slow and teasing, before you couldn’t take it anymore.

You crashed together, mouths colliding in a searing, desperate kiss that was all heat and hunger, lips clashing, tongues tangling, breaths turning ragged as the steam curled around you both. 

The scent of soap and Dean's skin filled your senses, warm water cascading down his broad shoulders, sliding between your bodies, making everything slicker—hotter.

Dean’s hands roamed, calloused fingers gliding over wet skin, gripping your hips, tracing the curve of your spine before gripping your ass, pressing you closer until you could feel the hard, throbbing heat of him against your stomach. The contrast of his rough hands against the smooth slide of your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

The shower’s spray pelted against your shoulders, rivulets of water trailing between your breasts, down your stomach, before pooling between your thighs—where you already ached for him.

Dean groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening. “You’re fucking dangerous, you know that?” His voice was low, wrecked, barely a breath against your lips.

You smirked, pressing yourself even closer, deliberately dragging yourself along the rigid length of him, slick heat meeting hardened steel. Dean let out a low growl, hands tightening on your hips, fingertips digging into your damp skin.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he rasped, but there was no warning in his tone—only pure, molten desire.

"Then burn me," you murmured back, your lips grazing his jaw as your nails raked down his back.

Dean inhaled sharply, his resolve snapping like a thread. His hands slid down, one gripping the swell of your ass, the other venturing lower, teasing through your wet folds. The moment he found your clit, you gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

"Already so fucking wet," he groaned, slipping a finger inside you, slow, testing. Your walls fluttered around him, greedy, eager for more.

Your breath hitched, head falling back against the shower wall as he added another finger, stretching you, thrusting them in and out in a steady rhythm, curling just right.

"Dean," you whimpered, clinging to him, your hips moving of their own accord, chasing the friction, the heat.

Dean watched you like a man mesmerised, his green eyes dark, hooded with lust as he pumped his fingers deeper, faster, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit. "That's it," he coaxed, voice rough, filled with awe. "Let me see you come."

The fire inside you built to an unbearable peak, and then it snapped. A sharp cry tore from your lips as you came around his fingers, body trembling against the tile, your walls pulsing around the thick intrusion. Dean groaned at the sight, watching every shudder, every twitch, as if committing the moment to memory.

He eased you through it, dragging out every wave of pleasure until you were panting against him, boneless. Then, slowly, he pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied hum.

"Fuck," you breathed, still reeling, still burning.

Dean smirked. "Tastes even better straight from the source."

That snapped something in you. With renewed hunger, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his, your hand slipping between you to wrap around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, bracing a hand against the wall as you stroked him, firm and slow, feeling the way he twitched, the way his breath stuttered.

But before you could take things further, Dean growled, gripping your wrist and pulling your hand away.

"Sweetheart," he warned, voice strained, his restraint hanging by a thread.

You pouted playfully. "What? Just trying to return the favour."

Dean huffed a breath, shaking his head with a smirk before gripping your thighs and lifting you in one smooth motion. You gasped as your back hit the cool tile, the contrast between it and his heat making you shiver. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and as he adjusted his hold, his cock brushing against your bare pussy, sliding through your slick folds.

Dean froze, sucking in a sharp breath. "Shit," he muttered, realisation dawning in his heated gaze. "Condom—"

"I'm on the pill," you panted, barely able to think past the need consuming you. "And I'm clean."

Dean met your eyes, searching, his chest rising and falling against yours. "Yeah?"

You nodded, desperate. "Yeah."

Dean exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Me too. Clean, I mean.” With that, he adjusted his grip, angling his hips, and slowly, deliberately, pushed inside.

A ragged moan left your lips as he stretched you, deeper than before, bare and hot and thick. The sensation was overwhelming—so intimate, so raw, nothing between you to dull it.

Dean let out a broken groan, his head falling against your shoulder. "Fuck—" His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath ragged against your skin. "You feel... Jesus, you're so fucking perfect."

You clung to him, nails biting into his shoulders, drinking in every inch as he filled you completely. "Dean," you gasped, already shaking, the feeling of him bare inside sending electric pleasure through your veins.

"Not gonna last long like this," he admitted, voice wrecked, strained, his hips pressing flush against yours. "You feel too damn good."

You tightened around him in response, and he cursed under his breath, pulling back just enough before thrusting in again, slow, deliberate.

The drag, the friction—it was maddening. He set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips, each movement deep and slow, making you feel every inch of him. His lips found your neck, sucking, biting, as he moved, claiming you in every way possible.

The hot spray of the shower poured down his back, running between your joined bodies, making every slick movement even more intoxicating. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body, winding you tighter, making you tremble against him.

Dean groaned against your throat, his breath hot and ragged, hands gripping your thighs as he drove into you harder, deeper. The wet sounds of skin meeting skin mixed with the steady patter of water against tile, the air thick with steam, with heat, with the intoxicating scent of him.

“Goddammit, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “You feel so fucking good—so tight, so perfect.”

Your only response was a choked moan as he adjusted his angle, his cock hitting that spot inside you that had you arching against him, nails biting into his shoulders. Your body clenched around him, and Dean cursed, a deep, guttural sound that sent another wave of arousal crashing through you.

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing firm, teasing circles that had you gasping.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your ear, voice thick with need. ��Let me feel you, baby—wanna feel you come all over my cock.”

Your body was already unraveling, fire burning hot in your core, the pleasure too much, too good. His fingers worked you in time with his thrusts, his pace quickening, desperate now, chasing that high.

“Dean—fuck—”

“I got you,” he promised, voice rough, desperate. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

And you did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing over you, pleasure tearing through your body in hot, rolling pulses. Your walls clenched around him, gripping him tight, making him groan, his movements stuttering as he chased his own release.

“Shit—” Dean cursed, his head falling against your shoulder, his thrusts turning erratic, rough, his breath coming in sharp, ragged pants.

Then, with one final, deep stroke, he was gone, a shudder wracking through him as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding deep, his groan low and wrecked against your throat.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, bodies locked together, chests heaving, steam curling around you. Dean pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still dark, lips brushing against your damp skin.

“Jesus,” he muttered breathlessly, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “That was—”

You exhaled a soft, breathless laugh, fingers tangling in his wet hair.

“Yeah,” you murmured, just as dazed.

Dean let out a breathless chuckle, still holding you close as he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Then he pulled back just enough to glance at the shower-head, feeling the now lukewarm water cascading over both of you.

“I think your idea of saving water was a damn fallacy,” he teased, with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed, still trying to catch your breath, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, well… in my defence, I wasn’t really thinking about the water.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me.”

AN: Okay this was a steamy one, I hope we're all okay after this one? 😅 Please let me know how you're liking the story so far? And are you just as frustrated as I am with these two? Feed back is much appreciated 💕

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell @nancymcl @happyfxckinghorrors @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @fangirlingfromdownunder @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @piptoost @shadysoulangel @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @waynes-multiverse @jaredpadonlyyyy

Next Time...

As you neared the building, Charlie shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “You coming to the company Christmas party tomorrow night?” You blinked, nearly having forgotten about the annual bash Roman Enterprises threw right before everyone was released for their so-called ‘Christmas break.’ “Shit, I completely forgot about that,” you admitted, your breath visible in the air. Your mind had been preoccupied with... well, other things. “Well, I’m only going if you are. I can only tolerate these people when I’m getting paid for it.” You laughed at that, shaking your head. “I mean, I guess it’d be the decent thing to show our faces, right?” You shrugged, considering it. “And I do have to admit—Dick throws a damn good party.” “Right? And there’s always a chocolate fountain,” Charlie said, eyes lighting up. You hummed in agreement. “Fuck it. Let’s go. I can grab a new dress on my way home later.” Charlie grinned, clearly pleased. “Oh! You should invite Dean. It’s been a while since I saw that knucklehead.” That made you hesitate. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to invite Dean, but an office Christmas party wasn’t exactly a casual setting. And inviting him made it feel a little too much like... a date. But then again, Charlie would be there. It wasn’t like it would just be the two of you. Three friends hanging out. Totally normal.

[chaifootsteps]

Just finished watching Addicted today, and I can't get around on how people think Poison is better than this ....

The song is catchy and the animation is more fluid. But there is something about Addict that just....it just can't get replicated by Poison.

There is way more heart, Angel feels like a truly trapped person trying his best on not letting him break under the pain, Valentino is subtle in front of the crowds and honestly gross and abhorrent when no one is watching, making the scene feel real, how many singers, actors and people behind the scenes has to go through it while faking a smile and keep the show going, it feels impactful but not in a sexy way, more like in a disheartening way where you truly want angel to have a good ending and show a real smile like in the final scene.

Also a long, long time ago, this was what made Cherri my fav female character, no romance, no sex, no bitching, but the song slightly says she has given up trying and just 'do what everyone wants of her' and becomes the trickster anarchyst we used to love, while hinting a personal drama that fleshes out even more, a crazy woman that loves disasters but hides an inner pain while also comforting and helping out her Best friend and possibly the only person in hell she really trusts.

Wow, so much got lost huh.

Now angel is just the effeminate victim that needs his strong man next to him and Cherri is an abusive fake friend bitch that became as hypersexual as the 90% of the characters and is involved in a rushed romance because of it.

Wow

Absolutely. Addict was purely about Angel's suffering and struggle, Poison was about how much he likes getting fucked by Valentino even though it makes him feel bad. Even Viv herself said "it's about his relationship with Valentino."

Nothing in season 1 of HH even came close to equaling the power of those shots of Angel breaking down on the bed in the dark as Cherri could do nothing but comfort him.

[spaghettixdemon]

J Stands for more words than one PT.4

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Little author message here- Finally out!! AHH part 4 was way overdue - and part 5 is almost ready to be posted >:) this chapter gets...interesting...so take that how you will

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 2.5 here | part 3 here

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Gracia, JJ, and Emily had gotten all dressed up and were already seated in a booth, chatting. Emily sat with JJ, and next to Garcia was an open seat. They had ordered a round of shots when they first arrived, and only a few minutes after the trio had arrived and started chatting, Y/N appeared with a staff member, showing her to the trio’s booth. Y/N was wearing a longer dress, one that was maybe a bit too much for meeting your boyfriends’ friends, but in her eyes better to be over than underdressed. “Hi! Aw you look so pretty!” Emily cheered when she saw Y/N approach them. “AH Y/N!! You’re so hot - what the heck??” Garcia jumped out of the booth and gave Y/N a quick, welcoming hug before the two sat down.

JJ was stunned. As soon as she saw Y/N walk over to their table, that pit in her stomach was back. Y/N genuinely looked so good. She was so beautiful, and all done up - from her hair to her heels. JJ was a grown woman, she shouldn’t feel so intimidated by someone younger and prettier than her…But…it was just so easy to be intimidated by someone who was currently dating your old coworker crush.

Y/N sat down and looked around with a smile. “So- did I miss anything??” Emily shook her head and handed Y/N a shot. “Nope! We all just got here as well..Garcia ordered a round for the table, so enjoy!” Y/N took the shot and looked around the table. She was a little nervous meeting these women, but she decided to take the shot to push down those anxious feelings. Garcia and Emily cheered as Y/N drank, slamming the shot glass down as she put it back on the table in front of them. The group cheered, all making small talk while they drank themselves half blind. “So, I’m sure all of us want to know how you and Spence met!” JJ started the conversation, a smile on her face. Emily and Garcia lit up, excited to hear about Y/N’s experience with their ‘boy wonder’. Y/N glanced over at JJ, shrugging and smiling softly.

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 “I mean…I work as a librarian, so I’d see him reading books all the time, staying at the library for so long that I’d have to kick him out for closing time…” Y/N looked down at a shot glass she was fidgeting with in her hands before looking back up at everyone. “I always thought he was pretty cute, so one time when I was going to kick him out for closing time, I just…asked him out” She shrugged, her small smile slowly growing. “In my eyes there was no harm in asking, and if things went south, well, I was already kicking him out” The group laughed, hearing the couples’ origin while Garcia smiled warmly. She cupped her hands together as Y/N shared this story. “Aww that’s so romantic - and so Spencer to be asked out at a library of all places”. Y/N grinned, nodding excitedly as she took another shot for confidence. 

—————————————————————————————————

JJ just nodded, taking another shot as she thought about asking Spencer out. Hypothetically what she would do. Hypothetically how she would go about it. She probably knew him better than this girl anyways…JJ was quiet, deep in thought as the other girls chatted. It was late into the night, and the girls had all easily drank too much. They were slurring their words, playing drinking games, and enjoying themselves…well…most of them. JJ sat next to Y/N, looking more annoyed as the night went on. “Oh! Oh! I have another question” Garcia butted into Emily and Y/N’s conversation. “Is he romantic? I can’t picture him not being a shy nerdy guy…” Y/N smiled warmly, thinking about her boyfriend. She wanted to call him, text him…anything really. She just missed him after all. She nodded, a faint blush crossing her cheeks. “Oh yeah! He’ll write me poems, surprise me with flowers when he gets home from long trips, and loves baking…’because it’s a science’  as he would say” Y/N took another sip of her new drink, and sighed. “He surprises me in other ways after long trips, but we don’t have to get into that…” She said it as a passing comment, but everyone’s heads shot to Y/N. JJ, in particular, was starting to feel uncomfortable…she had been picturing this new, unknown version of Spencer in her mind. Imagining baking with him…Imaging him bringing her flowers…This was not ok. JJ knew this was bad, yet she couldn’t stop these images flashing into her mind…except Y/N never seemed to be pictured. “Ooooo and what other ways does he surprise you??” This time Emily was the one to jump in and speak. Garcia followed suit, grinning “Yeahhh Y/N what other ways? Spill it!” Y/N was definitely too sober for this conversation. Especially with his coworkers?? Y/N reached for another drink, trying to feel the buzz.

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Y/N looked around the table, and sighed. “Well you know, his memory is pretty insane…if we…” she gestured with her hand, “…If I like something, he already knows.. I don’t have to pretend I’m enjoying anything…I don’t have to remind him what I don’t like…ya know?” She paused and smiled “He’s putting that memory to good use..” Garcia and Emily grinned, surprisingly enjoying the thrill of learning about the secret sides of their coworker. “So what- you do anything?” The question cut through the air like shards of glass. Y/N turned to face JJ, a confused expression on her face. “What?” All JJ could think about was Spencer this. Spencer that. Spence…everything. She was trying to shift the conversation away from him, for her own sake. “You heard me…what do you do?” 

—————————————————————————————————

Y/N had a confused expression on her face, looking back to the empty shot glass in front of her. She started to slowly spin the rim of the glass, pursing her lips as she thought “Well…when you’ve all been away for at least a week or two, traveling across the country…” She paused, a small smile growing  on her face as she thought about her boyfriend. “I always make sure he walks through the door feeling comforted and happy…Sometimes I’ll go out for the week…pick up something…purple” Y/N laughed softly and looked up at the group in front of her, especially keeping an eye on JJ. “Did you know that? He…really loves the color purple…like a lot…” She continued to speak. “Sometimes I’ll plan a little scavenger hunt, just for him..” Her smile grew “Like…hide things around our apartment building and make him work for what he wants…and as far as I know he enjoys finding the clues…little price tags hidden in the laundry room, a box from his favorite brand in the lobby, little love notes saying what-” Y/N turned a little bit, glancing at JJ. “what I’m gonna do once he solves the scavenger hunt…” Y/N shrugged and smiled warmly. “Sometimes I throw in little puzzles for him to solve…cause why not…I like the way he looks using that big brain of his…it’s pretty cute…” “and then?” Gracia jumped in, almost hanging on every word. Y/N looked back at Garcia, a small smirk forming across her lips as she shrugged. “Well, once he makes his way back to the apartment, after…finishing the little game i set up, he gets what he wants” She shrugged, the smirk stuck on her face. JJ pursed her lips, taking that all in. She never imagined Spencer being like…like this? Hell- why was she even imagining what she’d be like with him? In compromising positions? This was bad. Very bad…

—————————————————————————————————

Some Time Later

The girls were all at least 5 drinks deep, not including the 10 shots they took. The girls were wasted, to say the least. As the night went on, so did the questions aimed towards Y/N. The only difference from the start of their interrogation? Y/N was pretty drunk.Garcia was still somehow full of energy and egging Y/N on, begging to hear all the gossip. “-And oh my gosh the praise..? It’s so sexy sometimes..oh! And-” “Oh! What’s he working with..?” JJ jumped in, yet again. Though, Y/N didn’t seem to care this time. Garcia laughed and gestured towards JJ, agreeing with her. “Yeah! You hyped him up, now we gotta know!” Y/N looked amongst the group and quickly held her hands up and started moving them slowly, farther apart (think that one Family Guy bit with Stewie and Taylor Swift). Everyone laughed, gasping and shouting as Y/N finally stopped. JJ shoved Y/N “shut up! No way!” Y/N just smiled and shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant.

—————————————————————————————————

JJ was wasted. Not buzzed, not drunk- wasted. She would drink, trying to forget the things Y/N would mention, but it was no use. All she could think of was Spencer. Walking over to her sitting at her BAU desk, when he would softly grab her by the chin, making her look at him. He would be shirtless, wearing only a BAU bullet-proof vest over his toned- no- ripped chest. He would scoop her up, carrying her bridal style over to the elevator outside their office. “-JJ? JJ we asked you a question…” It was Emily that brought JJ out of her drunken fantasy. This was past the point of bad, but JJ didn’t seem to care. “Huh? What was the question?” Emily and Garcia looked at each other before Garcia spoke up. JJ was so off tonight. ”You’re so close with Spencer! Does he ever bring Y/N up..?” It was an odd question, yeah, but they were drunk and definitely were not keeping things professional.

—————————————————————————————————

JJ thought about Spence. She had been through everything with him. She honestly considered herself his work wife, but they never really discussed stuff like that. All she could think about was what they’ve been through, what they’ve witnessed, when they would comfort each other during especially hard cases. Shne shrugged, seeming unimpressed. “I mean yeah, sometimes I’d see him talking on the phone before and he looked…so..happy..” JJ pursed her lips and smiled awkwardly. Then, maybe it was the alcohol or all the memories tied to Spencer, but something slipped out that definitely should not have. “..You aren’t even a little bit scared to be with him? To be attached to a government job like ours..?” Y/N looked over at JJ. She had a twisted expression on her face. She looked like some mix of discomfort and frustration. Y/N’s brows furrowed and she turned to face JJ. “Should I be…?”  “You know I’m - we’re all much more used to the steaks this job brings, maybe you’re just…not ready for all that” Y/N was frustrated, confused by this constant twist of words and deception. She tried to play off the comments by laughing. “Come on JJ, we’ve been dating for quite some time now…I think I can handle being with him-” JJ jumped in, cutting Y/N off yet again. “You can handle it? Yeah? Well, where were you when he was trying to get over his addiction..? Where were you when he got kidnapped and almost died…?” The three girls were stunned, listening to the drunken ramblings of JJ. Y/N felt embarrassed. She had no idea these things had happened to her boyfriend, he had never really brought them up to her. “What..? JJ I think you’ve had enough..” Y/N awkwardly tried to push away the drink in front of JJ, but she ended up grabbing Y/N’s wrist. The two stared deeply into each other’s eyes, almost as if no one else was in the room. “JJ come on now, that’s enough…” It was Emily who finally spoke up, trying to defend Y/N. “His last girlfriend died because of this job…did he ever tell you that..? Did you ever help him through the grieving process..? Did you even consider you don’t know him like we do…maybe you’re just not meant for someone like him”

—————————————————————————————————

You could hear a pin drop. Y/N just sat there, feeling disgusted, confused, and upset. Garcia and Emily started shouting at JJ, trying to get her to take back what she said. “What? Am I wrong? You all witnessed the same things I did!” Y/N just sat there, processing what JJ had just said. Taking it in, looking it over, processing… everything. She slowly looked back up at JJ, anger seeping onto her face. “And what- you think you’re so much better? You think you know him like I do…? Jennifer- JJ- ugh whatever the fuck your name is, he’s my boyfriend - not yours he didn’t ask you out. He doesn’t love you. Doesn’t touch you, like he does to me- ok?” 

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JJ scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever - love me or not, you could never be as close as we are...” Y.N was angry now - “Wow ok…” Y/N looked up to see a clock on the wall, it was past midnight. She moved out of the booth, scooting and shoving before finally getting free. She stood in front of everyone, looking past JJ to the other girls. They both looked equally uncomfortable. “Ladies…it was nice to meet you but…I think I’m gonna get a ride home…” Y/N walked past the booth, heading for the bar near the entrance. She finally relaxed as she sat down, the stress she was facing earlier disappearing. What the fuck was that?

—————————————————————————————————

Spencer had been enjoying his night, watching movies and getting ready to head to bed. He was happy Y/N was finally learning more about his work life, and the people in it. They had been dating for a year now, and he loved Y/N, wanted to keep her in his life any way he could. That’s when his cell phone started to ring. Spencer muted the TV, walking over to see…it was Y/N? “Y/N? Hello, what's up? Any thoughts on the girls yet?” “I need you to come pick me up..I..drank too much and feel sick..” Spencer’s eyebrows raised and he walked over to grab his car keys. “Ok…Ok don’t worry baby I’ll be there soon…just stay put…” What had happened? Why did Y/N sound…sad..? Maybe it was just her sickness…it was probably just that.

—————————————————————————————————

15 minutes later

Spencer walked into the bar, seeing Y/N alone at the bar counter. Ok, now he was really confused. Why was she alone? Why was her body language so…closed off? Where were his coworkers? “..Y/N..?” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He watched her turn around, and her disappointed reaction quickly morphed into shock and happiness. He loved the way she smiled, how she looked when he finally appeared in front of her at the bar. She pulled him in for a hug, something he wasn’t usually comfortable with, but he would accept a hug any day or time from the person he loves. “Spencer..!” He heard a familiar voice stumbling towards him. “Garcia…? What’s going on..?” Garcia looked at Y/N then to Spencer. “It was so great getting to know Y/N but um…JJ happened…” Garci turned back to see the table. “She…drank a little too much..” Spencer, confused, made sure to bookmark that information and ask JJ what happened very soon. “Okay…” He looked back over at Garcia “you guys need a ride home too? We’re all pretty close by, we can drop you off…”

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Garcia looked at Y/N, and sighed, looking back towards the table. “I mean, if Y/N’s ok with it…it would definitely be cheaper and safer than taking a taxi…” Y/N, tired and annoyed, smiled softly shrugging Garcia’s question off.. “Sure why not?” Garcia smiled and gave Y/N a side hug. “Thank you thank you thank you! I’ll go grab the girls” Garcia walked away, and Spencer just watched. He gently placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back. Was something weird going on? Or was he  suddenly really bad at reading people? 

—————————————————————————————————

One by one, the girls, Y/N, and Spencer walk out of the bar together. Garcia and Emily are laughing, holding onto each other as they stumble towards Spencer’s car. JJ stumbled out as well, possibly acting the most drunk out of the group. The sidewalk was uneven, and as she made her way towards the car, she not-so gracefully stumbled and almost fell, grabbing Spencer's forearm. Y/N just stared at JJ. Oh that was so on purpose. Y/N just rolled her eyes, watching as Spencer helped JJ up. “You ok JJ..? That was a rough fall” “Honestly…I don’t know…maybe I could hold onto you for support..? Just so I don’t fall again..” A confused expression formed on Spencer’s face, but he shrugged it off. “Ok..” JJ perked up, smiling as she hugged Spencer’s arm and held onto it for support.

—————————————————————————————————

Look at her. So smug, so insufferable, so…annoying. It was honestly gross. Y/N let go of Spencer’s hand she had been holding, and just watched JJ from the side. JJ glanced over at Y/N, smirking. So…cringey. Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, following the group. “Where is this car anyway? Did you park on the opposite end of the earth..?” Emily joked, but honestly, they had been walking for at least 6 minutes now. Where was this car anyway? “Right here! No more walking” Spencer chuckled and opened the passenger and back doors for everyone. Emily and Garcia sighed with relief, no more walking. The pair climbed into the backseats. “Thankss Spencer! Yeah thanks Reid!” They laughed and sat comfortably, ready to go. Now it was just a trio, Spencer standing in between either woman. JJ finally let go of his arm, but smiled up at him, biting her lip and laughing softly. “Spence…I’mm like…ffivee minutes away…can I sit in the frront seat..?” Spencer turned to face Y/N. To be fair, she was closest to this bar. It was a 15 minute drive from her house…but what it would symbolize, having his “work wife” in the passenger seat next to him…while his actual girlfriend sat in the back…that was not a good look for them. Though, the more she thought about it, she’d be able to spend time with the coworkers she actually liked, and laugh with. “You know what? Go ahead. I’ll be in the back with Garcia and Emily..”

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Wait- what? Spencer looked at Y/N, confusion crossing his face once again. JJ smiled though and shrugged “If you insist…” And without hesitation, she hurried over to the front seat while Y/N made her way to the back, greeting the other girls with a smile. Spencer goes to the driver's side and shuts the door, confusion still fueling his brain. JJ seemed so much happier about this than the others, watching Spencer as she started to drive down the road, bringing JJ back to her home. Wow Spencer was…so…”You’rre soo cool when you drrive with onne hand Spencce..you lookk like a badass from one of those crime shows…” 

Spencer laughed awkwardly. Why was JJ acting this way? It was…odd. “Um…thanks? I guess..?” he felt weird, glancing up into the rear view mirror, seeing Y/N. She seemed annoyed. She was rolling her eyes and occasionally talking with Emily and Garcia…huh. Something was definitely up. Spencer looked back to the road and sighed. Whatever was going on, whatever this tension was in the air, needed to be resolved asap.

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10 minutes later

“Annddd here we are!” Spencer pulled into JJ’s driveway. He smiled, looking to the person in his passenger seat. JJ smiled, visibly drunk. “SSpencee can you wwalk me insidee..?” JJ softly grabbed Spencer’s wrist, looking up at him hopefully. She tugged at his slender wrist, pleading. “Cmonn please..?” Reid glanced at Y/N in the back seat and sighed. He did care about JJ, and this was probably the right thing to do. “Fine...but I gotta drop off the other ladies so let’s speed this up..!” He continued to smile, getting out of the car as JJ was visibly excited. She glanced back towards the car before they shut the front door, heading inside.

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taglist: @libraprincessfairy @esposadomd @teenwolfbitches28

[unrelentingforse]

No, Caitlyn is not a fascist

As time passed after the ending of arcane I've come to realise that labelling Caitlyn Kiramman as a "dictator" is plain wrong and it heavily mischaracterizes her as a person who was so clearly manipulated by a woman in power.

Arcane writers have done everything they can to explain to the fandom that the gas was mostly used on chembarons and their goons. Obviously other people were caught in the crossfire and got poisoned from the gray, but this is nowhere near what the nazis were doing. And it is also NOT a valid reason to call her "KKKiramman"

Yes, she created checkpoints. Yes, she wanted Singed to be put in a dungeon. But - let's be real right now - she didn't do that out of her hatred for the poor people of Zaun. She did it because she wanted to avenge Jinx. All of her actions are caused by her grief, hate, guilt and loneliness.

You can argue that if she wasn't a fascist then she wouldn't do any of it and would've given up her power. But this actively ignores the grief she's going through. And also completely ignores the definition of fascism. What was she supposed to do? Just give up all of her assets and power when she was at her lowest? Beg on her knees for forgiveness? Just forget that her mother died a horrific death and forgive Jinx for everything?

Caitlyn actively despised how she was seen. Here's some quotes from S2:

When talking to maddie she said that she never thought this operation would go for so long. She didn't seem happy or malevolent about it - which would be true if she hated zaunites so much as you guys are painting her.

When Ambessa came to her Caitlyn accused Rictus of inciting violence against zaunites (after she became "the fascist dictator")

In the same dialogue said that there needs to be a reason to arrest someone.

Again, in the same dialogue - "Why is peace always the justification for violence?".

Actively acknowledged that she was manipulated and used as a pawn by Ambessa when she was talking to Vi.

No, her throwing that wooden boat is not abuse. I genuinely don't know HOW this is a real argument.

6. "Hating you...I've hated myself"

7. "No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes!" is the biggest one. She didn't say this about Jinx - she said it about herself.

I could go on and on listing you quotes from S2 but to be frank - this is not how character development works. You don't just say a bunch of words and magically become "better". You change how you act. And you don't magically become "worse" when you say something heinous.

Most of you have the ability to see nuance in Jinx's character. Why isn't the same for Cait? Is it because you just agree with her? Is it because you divide "good" and "bad" people by whether or not they agree with you?

What about Cait giving up her seat at the council for Sevika? What about her fighting her mentor just for the freedom of the people she supposedly hates? What about her asking zaunites to fight alongside her? What about her ratting out everything about Ambessa's defense in viktor's village AS SOON as she gets support from Vi and Jinx?

Obviously in real world it would seem that I argue for the "both sides" bullshit. I am not. And I really don't want you to think that I'm acting as superior because I'm able to see nuance in Caitlyn's arc. I want to show you that it is REALLY REALLY important not to dehumanize your enemies. Because

when you dehumanize nazis YOU BECOME ONE!

You NEED to be able to see them as humans so that you can see yourself in them and correct that. So that you see your friends and family in them. Because so many people realize they were living with racists/homophobes/transphobes/antisemites/bigots in general for their whole life only when the elections come. I want that to stop. And you can begin to do that by watching arcane one more time and not basing your opinion on something as fragile and unstable as a public opinion.

[beingalive1]

𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

Rupert Campbell Black x Oc (Francesca Wellington)

Summary: Francesca Wellington was everything Rupert Campbell Black was and more. A successful show jumper with a title and an estate, she had it all. She was a constant reminder of the man he once was. He couldn't help but hate her for it and yet, he loved her for it just the same.

Part Three: here

Part Four: The hatred begins

Author's note: I apologise for the lack of updates, I just started med school and have been working non-stop. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Comment if you would like to be added to this series's taglist. xx

Caitlyn O'hara could not stop staring at Francesca Wellington's luscious breasts. The young girl's eyes were practically fixated upon the Lady's bosom as Frank breathed. Francesca was reclined on Taggie's bed. Her tan legs stretched across the comforter as cigarette smoke wafted above her head like a pearl halo. Caitlyn silently wondered if she had been some sort of criminal or dictator in a past life. The young girl must have committed some horrifying war crimes or pissed off the gods in some sort of way.  It was the only reasonable explanation as to why she looked like she did, and Francesca Wellington looked like that. Like a greek goddess with a  posh accent.  Francesca Wellington had clearly hit the genetic lottery: her tan skin, curly hair, athletic build and voluptuous breasts. 

Frank had it all.

 Caitlyn wondered if she should quit school and become an olympic show jumper; it clearly had its perks. 

"You look absolutely ravishing in that." Francesca stated, smoke dripping from her pink lips as she exhaled. 

Caitlyn's eyes drifted from the heiress and onto her sister. Taggie's usual party dress, the blue mini, had mysteriously disappeared from her closet. In a panic Tag had called her new friend Frank for aid. Frank had insisted on coming over, she had brought three bags full of dresses with her. 

When hearing about Taggie's new friend, Caitlyn had imagined a sweet farm girl with buckteeth and blonde pigtails. The options of dresses were sure to be dreary and conservative. Caitlyn was infinitely surprised when the Francesca Wellington strolled through the front door with bags of Chanel and Dior. 

Taggie didn't even know her new friend was famous. Her dyslexia often causing her to stray from the fashion magazines Caitlyn poured over. The fashion magazines whose cover often frequented Frank's likeliness  - despite the heiress's aversion to the press. Caitlyn loved her sister but sometimes Tag could be so daft. How could she not recognise one of the most famous women in England as her new found friend?

Talk about an opportunity. 

"Turn around I want to see the back." Francesca said as she glided off the bed and walked towards Taggie. Frank's hazel eyes gazed at Taggie through the mirror, Frank's focus aimed at the green dress draped over her new friend's body. Taggie looked good. Every eye at Tony Baddingham's stupid garden party will surely be captured by the woman. They would be stupid not to admire her. 

Taggie stared at Frank, waiting for the heiress's verdict. 

"You look like a movie star Tag." 

Taggie smiled, her grin bright as she turned to face Frank.

 "Thank you for this." 

Frank shrugged, her bare feet inching their way across Tag's carpet as she made her way back to the bed. The cigarette extinguished in an ashtray on the bedside table. Taggie didn't smoke; she had stolen the ashtray from her father for Frank. It was important for a good host to cater to the needs of their houseguests. Frank needed an ashtray. Tag would happily ignore her father's complaints for the next few hours.

 "Of course." Frank replied, "I get all these clothes sent to me by fashion houses. It's a total waste. I spend my time riding horses not striding down runways. They never get worn. Might as well let your sexy self take them for a spin."

Caitlyn listened attentively to the famous woman sitting across from her.  The young girl lusting after the woman's clothing collection. Cait silently recalled how even Madonna herself had referred to Frank as a style icon in an interview once. The pop-star stated how she admired Frank for never talking to the press. It was obvious that Frank didn't need to: her clothes and awards spoke for her.  Tag being able to wear something owned by the Francesca Wellington was mind-blowing for the young teen, even if her sister didn't recognise just how famous Frank was. Francesca and her brash character was  fashion at its finest - despite her lack of trying

Cait subtly wiped the drool from her mouth, she had to stop daydreaming. 

Caitlyn inched closer to Frank, the teen's sharp gaze taking in the elder woman's attire. Frank seemed too casual for a garden party. A white, sleeveless polo neck and cream knit trousers draped over her figure. Her feet sported sandals and her hands an infinite amount of jewellery. "Is that what you're wearing to the party Francesca?" Caitlyn asked gently, her gaze still stuck on the way star's curly hair fanned out across the bedding. A black curtain draped over a cotton cloud. 

"You can call me Frank, Caity. And you're right, I should probably change." Frank stated as she gazed at the teen fondly. Caitlyn, though moony eyed in Frank's presence, was a spitfire with a great sense of humour. Despite only having  just met her a few hours prior, Frank had already grown fond of Caitlyn's wild commentary on the world and the residents of Colchester. Francesca particularly found Caitlyn's fixation on Rupert Campbell Black's supple arse  hilarious. "Fred would be upset if I arrived in my loungewear."

"Is Fred your boyfriend?" Caitlyn asked in quick succession. She hadn't heard any news in the paper of a lover in the Wellington heiress's life. A secret scoop into the life of one of the most famous women in the country would make her very popular with the girls at her eventual boarding school. 

Frank laughed outwardly. "No" She giggled, the laugh light and airy, "he's a dear friend. Old. Could be my dad. But his wife loves fashion. She always loves to ask if I've been keeping in touch with Gianni Versace. Don't want to upset her by coming to the party looking like I've just woken up. Even if I think Tony Baddingham is a right arse. I'm only coming to this party cause Fred asked." 

Caitlyn had stopped listening after Gianni Versace. The teen jumping to interrogate Frank on any other celebrities she might know. 

Maud O'hara rushed into the bedroom, her intrusion interrupting Caitlyn midway through her third question about Jake Ryan. The mysteriously missing blue mini tight upon her skin. Taggie and Caitlyn stared up at their mother in mild disgust. Frank grabbed a dress off the floor and walked into Taggie's adjacent bathroom to change. 

She was not getting involved in that conversation. 

Francesca made her way back into the room whilst the two O'hara sisters whispered to one another, Maud having left when Frank was changing. The presence of the heiress, draped in a dark blue satin dress caused the other two girls to fall silent. 

"What do you think?" Frank asked, her manner almost shy under the other girls' gazes. It had been a long time since she had gotten ready with women her own age. Her usual company consisted of mildly overweight men over the age of forty. Her trainer Marty never cared about what she wore, only if she could ride a horse. Freddie wasn't exactly a fashion connoisseur either: he had Valerie for a wife. She had a horrible habit for mixing tiger print with bright pink. Even Frank's fashion magazine editorials were run by male photographers with receding hairlines and scarves draped across their necks. She very rarely had a woman express an opinion on what she wore. Never mind two. 

"You look great." Taggie said. 

"Sex on legs." Caitlyn followed. 

Tag gasped in shock at her sister. 

Frank chuckled.

Two very good opinions. 

"Perfect." Frank said, her head nodding slightly as she grabbed her purse and car keys. "Well then. Let's go. Can't keep the bastards waiting. I'll catch you up on all the gory details later Caity." Frank spun out the room in a flash of navy. 

It was official. 

Caitlyn O'hara was in love with Francesca Wellington. 

There went her fixation on Rupert Campbell Black. 

Unlike those who had arrived at Tony Baddingham's ridiculous party in some outrageous sports car, Frank had arrived upside down stuck in the backseat of the O'hara family's mini. Her heels pressed up against the car window made for a very naughty sight as the group pulled into the Baddingham drive. Lying on her back like she was about to give birth was the only way Frank could fit in the O'hara's car without ripping her tight dress. Freddie's car boot was beginning to sound much more appealing as she felt the seatbelt dig into her back. 

"Alright." Tag started, a giggle held behind her lips as she watched the heiress roll herself out of the car. "You ready?" 

Frank huffed slightly, Tag had been no help in heaving Frank's body out the car. The traitorous girl only laughing at her friend's misfortune. If Taggie wasn't so goddamn endearing Frank would've felt slightly put out. Declan and Maud had already left them behind. 

"Any chance I can still go home?" Frank asked. 

"Not a one." 

"Bollocks." Frank fixed her hair, the wild curls falling free behind her back. "Well then, let the games begin." 

Her mouth was wide open. She couldn't close it. Her lips gaping open like a fish as she stared at Tony Baddingham's luxurious soiree. It was ridiculous. Every fibre of the garden dripping wealth from its seams. Frank had grown up wealthy: she was an heiress with multiple properties and a trust fund with more money in it that she could ever spend but this was ridiculous. It was excessive. A band played in the centre of the room. Waiters draped in duck-tailed suits milled around the lawn. People dressed in bright summer attire dotted around the grounds like colourful ants. Frank couldn't help but feel mildly uncomfortable. 

Tony Baddingham loudly greeted the O'hara family, his eyes fixated on his shiny new star Declan as he skipped towards them. Frank all but ran in the opposite direction, slipping through the crowd as the eyes of the Cotswolds began to fixate on the famous Wellington heiress. They had been mildly distracted by Taggie: as they should and as Frank planned. But alas, the crowd was relentlessly invested in the heiress. She might have even dubbed them her groupies or fans if only they were slightly younger, more attractive and actually liked her. 

Francesca walked deeper into the room by herself, Taggie having been led astray by Lady Monica Baddingham.

It felt like she was an animal at the zoo. Her head held high and shoulders backwards as she strutted through the crowd. She could feel everyone watching her. Their inquisitive stares piercing her skin. She tried to appear nonchalant as she moseyed her way to the only other person at this party besides Taggie that she could stand. The only reason she came to this godforsaken party in the first place. 

Freddie Jones smiled when he saw her. 

"Glad you could make it." he started from his spot at the refreshment table, his hand holding one of Tony Baddingham's oversized silver serving spoons. Only a simple salad perched upon his plate. Looks like Valerie was limiting Fred's diet again. Frank would have to sneak him some chocolate cake on the side. The poor man deserved it. "I was getting worried." 

Frank cracked a grin. They were an unlikely pair, her and Fred, but for some reason the electronics mogul was one of her favourite people. Besides training, Frank had spent most of her time with the man. They had similiar hobbies, liked to watch the same telly and both had a deeply ingrained hatred for their entitled neighbours. 

A match made in heaven. 

"You know me Fred-Fred." Frank began, her eyes glancing around at the guests surrounding them. From her time at boarding school and in the public eye Frank had learned that if you stared at people long enough they stopped staring back at you. She made direct eye contact with James Vereker. He grinned his sleazy smile. She raised one eyebrow, deadpan. He looked away mildly sheepish. A win for all. "I always have to arrive fashionably late." 

Fred shook his head, his mouth moving to speak before his wife, Valerie Jones, promptly interrupted him. The blonde woman's hand gripping onto Frank in a clutch unbefitting for someone so petite. The Wellington heiress  was quickly led towards the rest of the Cotswolds' women, her eyes begging Fred for aid. 

Help me, her eyes said. 

Some socialising might do you some good, his replied.

Traitor.

Frank was convinced socialising is what would lead to her demise. She was pushed into a lawn chair opposite three women, Valerie's hand still wrapped around her shoulder to prevent Frank from bolting. The damn woman knew her too well. 

"So Francesca," A plump woman began,  Frank never could remember her name, "How do you like living in Rutshire? It must be so lonely living in that big old house. No parents, no husband..."

"Excuse me. Excuse me." 

Tony Baddingham rose to his feet, a speech on the tip of his tongue. Frank could have kissed him right then and there. 

The plump woman attempted to question Frank again, her wrinkly face closing in on Frank from across the lawn table. Lady Monica struck a gong. The plump woman and the rest of the party-goers immediately falling silent at the loud clanging sound. 

It appeared Frank had to kiss Lady Baddingham too now. Two for one Baddingham special. 

Tony Baddingham wafted into a speech, his words falling deaf on Franks ears as she breathlessly escaped her lawn chair and made her way through the crowd. Pretending to not hear Valerie Jones beckoning her back to the lawn table, Francesca appeared at Taggie's left shoulder. "Do you think Lady Monica uses that gong to keep Tony and the children in check?" . 

Taggie's elbow struck Frank in the ribs as the redhead tried to smother her giggles. A bit aggressive. 

Moments away from falling asleep standing up, Frank snapped back into focus at the interruption of Rupert Campbell Black walking into the garden with Beattie Johnson on his arm. Tony looked to be turning purple at Rupert's appearance. The former olympian strolling in with a smug grin on his tan face. Frank was briefly reminded of the last time she saw him, naked on his tennis court. The firefighters Taggie called must have gotten a hell of a surprise. 

Rupert and Beattie walked through the crowd. Tony's speech ending abruptly as people jumped back into gossip and getting drunk on the Buck's Fizz. Frank grabbed Taggie's hand, determined to avoid Valerie Jone's and her cronies for at least an hour. They disappeared into Tony's garden in a flurry of red hair and blue silk. 

A particular set of eyes watched them go. 

"I saw you getting aquatinted with Rutshire's best and brightest." Frank stated, her hand grazing one of  Tony's horses. The horse sniffed, its eyes watching the heiress closely as she ticked its ears. 

Taggie watched Frank, her gaze taking in how her new friend gently interacted with the horse. As Tag got to know Frank it became more and more apparent that the heiress preferred horses to people. Frank behaved a certain way in crowds. She wasn't shy. Rather, Frank was funny, sarcastic, charming, all the things a world famous athlete should be. But around animals, in a garden secluded from prying eyes, Tag bared witness to the genuine side of her new friend. The quieter, more gentle Frank who listened to Tag speak about her struggles with merely a patient smile and a tender ear. This was the Frank that Taggie could see herself being friends with for a very long time. Tag liked this Frank. 

"Yes." Taggie replied, a smile brimming to her lips as Frank encouraged her to move closer to the horse. Tag followed the heiress's lead. Her hand lightly stroked the edges of the horse's neck being mindful to be gentle. "They're quite a strange crowd aren't they? Lizzie's quite nice though."

Frank nodded, her eyes still locked on the animal in front of her. She was not close with Lizzie Vereker. The Vereker woman's husband, James, was so foul that  Frank had decided to steer clear of the entire Vereker clan. Lest she get booked on his boring show. She'd rather shove a fork in her eye. Lizzie Vereker did seem to be one of the more interesting characters in this town; a writer of a few famous bodice ripping novels. Maybe Frank would purchase one of her books and read it before making up her mind on the Vereker woman's character. 

Declan O'hara interrupted the two women's discussion, a serious expression painted on his face as he marched across the lawn to them "Tag, have you seen your mother anywhere?" 

And just like that Declan, Frank and Taggie were strolling through the Baddingham's extensive gardens looking for Maud O'hara. 

The small group walked at a brisk pace as they journeyed from hedge to hedge. Frank admired the greenery, her mind drifting back to the home of Rupert Campbell Black and his even more extensive gardens. She really had enjoyed his flowers. It was such a shame a naked woman on the run had interrupted Frank mid admiration. She never got to see what sort of lawn dressing the Campbell Black gardeners used to make their Patagonias grow so large. The two O'haras and Frank turned a corner, the subject of Frank's thoughts found perched closely to Maud O'hara on a garden bench. 

Rupert Campbell Black swallowed hard. His Adams apple bobbing up and down as his eyes caught sight of Francesca Wellington draped in blue silk stepping out from behind a rose bush. She looked ethereal, curly hair strewn across her back as her dress hugged her in all the right places. He had seen her earlier: disappearing into the crowd with a redhead on her arm. Beattie had quickly regained his attention then, clutching his arm lest his eyes strayed too far for too long. He had hoped he could avoid Francesca for the rest of the party.  It appeared fate had other ideas. She had all his attention now. 

He hadn't even noticed the angry looking Irish man coming to greet him as he gazed at her. Declan O'hara shook his hand, he mindlessly reciprocated.

His eyes continued to take in the heiress. The O'hara family introducing themselves as she hung behind, her fingers fidgeting with one of Tony's roses. He thought back to the last time he saw her. Her attention fully fixated upon his garden despite the presence of his naked body on display.

 No one had ever ignored Rupert Campbell Black as much as Francesca Wellington. 

She was so entitled. So peculiar. 

His eyes strayed from Francesca. He greeted Declan and Taggie; briefly remembering  that Tag was the redheaded woman who screamed at him on his tennis courts a week prior. The same redheaded woman he saw Francesca disappear from the party with only a few moments ago. They must have been friends. Tag's face blushed as he smiled at her. Seemed like she remembered their meeting as well. 

He ignored Francesca as he walked Declan and the rest of the Oharas inside for some of Tony's whiskey. 

She had ignored him, her mind fixated on his gardens. He would ignore her, his mind desperate to see how the so-called prodigy felt about not being in the spotlight for one moment. 

Her brow furrowed in confusion. He had ignored her flat.

That was strange. 

Smoke wafted through the billiard room as Maud puffed on a cigarette. Frank fidgeted slightly, her fingers twitching in want. She had had her one cigarette for the day, but the smell had her  bursting for another. 

She deserved another. 

She'd been questioned about her love life all day by nosy old women and her one moment of peace had been interrupted by Maud O'hara's nefarious behaviour with Rupert Campbell Black. Rupert had also been a prick, more so than expected. To her knowledge Frank had done nothing to upset the man. She had no clue as to why had he ignored her in the garden nor why he continued to ignore her now as he and Declan played pool.

She needed a cigarette.  Maud smoked camels. It wasn't the same brand as Frank. She strictly smoked Marlboro lights. She'd happily make an acceptation. 

A ball fell into the socket as Declan and Rupert conversed. Taggie, Maud and Frank condemned to spectators on the lounge chairs adjacent to the pool table. Rupert smiled cockily. Frank silently thought she could've sunk two times as many balls as him in the time it took for him to sink his few. 

The smug bastard. 

Tony Baddingham entered the room, his eyes zeroing on Francesca as she silently tried to inhale Maud's second hand smoke. 

"Tony has come to ask me to join his board." Rupert told Declan smugly, another ball falling into the socket. Tony glanced towards the former olympian. Lady Gosling did have her heart set on Rupert joining the board but Tony was a fickle man. Lord Baddingham knew Rupert would never willingly join the board and would try his level best to embarrass Tony in front of his newest employee: Declan. Tony wasn't going to let him win. Not again. He had another plan, a better one.  

"Actually Rupert I was here to speak to Lady Wellington." 

Bollocks. Frank had been so sure she was in the clear. She had avoided both Baddinghams for the entire afternoon and was dead sure Tony was focused on Rupert. There was no way Tony would want another woman on his board, no matter how famous Frank was. She knew Tony saw her as a spoilt little girl with family money; a cow he could prod for extra cash. She didn't think he'd ever ask her to join his board. She assumed Rupert was a bigger cow: with more influence, more cash and a dick to boot. The obvious better choice.

So much for assumptions. 

All eyes in the room fell to her. Rupert's face turning sour. He had been so sure Tony was going to ask him to join the board. Again, Francesca Wellington had stolen something that was rightfully his. His spot on the olympic team, his legacy, his neighbourhood and now even the thing he was going to hold over Tony's head. He hadn't even wanted to join the board, he just wanted to make Tony angry by saying no. 

"It's a very lucrative business, the media. would be a good thing to come home to when you're finished with your riding career Francesca." Tony attempted. His false grin failing to convince Frank. For a TV executive he was a terrible actor. 

"I don't do press." Frank replied. Her words decisive and final.

 No.

She merely said no. She didn't even attempt to play with Tony for added amusement. Rupert knew he would've been so much more creative with it. 

Though, he did enjoy how Tony's face fell. 

Small victories. 

Tony swiftly turned back towards Rupert. His false smile perched on his lips as he tried to beat down his fury. "Rupert?" he asked. "Lady Gosling would love to have you around her more. It's a great investment."

Great. Sloppy seconds. Rupert tried his level best to appear like it hadn't bothered him that he hadn't been asked first. He too shutting down Tony with a sarcastic comment before resuming his pool game. He had to keep his thoughts away from the curly haired heiress who sat only a few feet away from him. His veins hot with jealousy. 

He hated that she had such an effect on him. 

Paul and Sarah Stratton entered the room. Paul greeting Tony as Sarah smiled at Rupert. 

Frank's eyes widened slightly as she made eye-contact with the naked woman who had been rushing through Rupert's rose bushes. It appeared the woman was married to Paul Stratton. An adulterous rose bush destroyer. Sarah's grin disappeared when she caught sight of Frank and Taggie, fear spearing across her face. 

"Francesca Wellington. God am I excited to finally meet you." Paul Stratton stated, his large body rushing towards Frank as she remained seated on the chaise lounge. 

Taggie left the room in a hurry. Frank longed to follow. 

"Paul Stratton correct?" Frank asked, a small grin perched on her lips. He nodded, his  excitement palpable on his face. "My mother knew your first wife Winifred. Lovely woman." 

His smile fell instantly. 

Frank left the room. 

Francesca found Taggie on the Baddingham's staircase looking mildly anxious. The heiress's brow furrowed with worry as she sat down next to the redhead. "What's wrong?" Frank asked, slightly rubbing Tag's shoulder. 

"I think I just told Tony Baddingham that Sarah Stratton was the naked woman playing tennis with Rupert."

Of all the answer to her question, Frank was not expecting Taggie to say that. The heiress failed to reply, only rubbing Tag's shoulder at a slightly quicker pace. 

Taggie looked helplessly at Frank. "You don't think he'll say anything do you?" 

Frank knew beyond a doubt Tony would most likely tell the entirety of Colchester by the end of the party. 

"How about we get some more Buck fizz?"

Tag groaned. 

Leaning against the Buck Fizz table Frank calmly sipped her drink as she surveyed the room. Taggie fidgeted anxiously next to her. Maybe Taggie needed a cigarette. Though Frank doubted Tag would ever smoke. 

"Oh no Frank look." Tag quietly exclaimed, her eyes the size of saucers as she pointed across the lawn. 

Tony Baddingham was whispering in Beattie Johnson's ear. The journalist's hair seemingly getting larger and larger as she shook with rage. The woman stormed across the dance floor, her chunky clogs stomping their way to the refreshment table. 

Beattie slapped Rupert across the face with such a fury that a red imprint remained on his tan face. 

Paul Stratton ran towards Rupert like a bull with bad balance. Rupert avoided him, the overweight MP falling head first into the refreshment table. Frank thought it was quite ironic that Paul was so upset about his second wife's adulterous acts. That was how he met Sarah in the first place. Definitely the pot calling the kettle black type of scenario.

The chaos continued as Rupert walked away from the party, Paul Stratton scraping cake off his face as Sarah Stratton tried to repair her reputation by guiltily exclaiming that her and Rupert's rendezvous "was only tennis!" 

"We should go apologise." Tag began, the palm of her hand pulling Francesca's arm in the direction Rupert had walked off to. 

"For exposing the adulterous MP's adulterous second wife? I thought it was brilliant. Karma and all that." Frank tried, her feet dragging behind Tag as the redhead marched on across Tony's lawn. 

Guess there was no stoping Taggie now. 

Rupert was standing silently in Tony's driveway. His linen suit billowing against his lean body in the wind of Beattie Johnson's departure. She had driven off at a speed that would make an F1 driver proud. It was mildly impressive. 

Taggie stayed behind Frank, her sudden confidence fading in an instant. Frank stared at her friend in betrayal; it was obvious that Tag never actually meant to apologise to Rupert. Frank was going to be the one to apologise for the both of them. 

Bloody woman with her red waves and adorable freckles. She was impossible to deny. 

Frank walked a few steps closer towards Rupert. 

Rupert turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, a grin on his face. He expected to see the sweet redheaded daughter of Declan O'hara. He was instead greeted with the wild curls of Francesca Wellington. 

His grin disappeared. 

"We're sorry." She started gently, "We didn't mean to expose you like that in front of everyone." 

Rupert hadn't really cared. His nefarious tennis match with Sarah Stratton was bound to come to light one way or another. The gossip of Rutshire was relentlessly efficient. He had only been mildly inconvenienced by Beattie Johnson driving off in his car. He'd have to walk the kilometre home. 

"Yeah well," He started, his eyes fixated on the sheepish expression painted across the heiress's face. He thought back to how she ignored him when she won the olympic medal: her eyes more focused on the shiny gold piece of shit that was her medal instead of acknowledging him.  How she failed to acknowledge that she took his seat on the Olympic team. He thought of how she ignored him on the tennis court: her eyes more focused on his roses than his naked body.  He thought of how lucky she was, how she had everything he wanted but never would have again. He could have been nice: forgiven her with a charming grin and then maybe later he could have charmed her delicious dress right off of her body. He could have been nice. 

But she didn't deserve nice. 

"you just lost me my bloody car." 

Frank's face fell. A mixture of shock and fury igniting within her body.

What a prick. 

"You can fucking walk." 

She turned and stormed away, dragging an equally as shocked Taggie behind her. 

Rupert cracked a smile.  As much as he hated her he had to admit:

she looked mildly sexy furious. 

[emi-writings]

As much fun as I have in the DSMP fandom and all the fun fanfics and cool fanart... I do kinda miss being in fandoms where OCs were common.

Like... I just miss people having their little guys.

I miss the cringey, over the top marysue protagonists that were in some of the most interesting and ridiculous fics.

I miss well thought out OCs that added so much to the worlds they were in, and created more interesting storylines in source materials that were lacking.

I miss people that filled a cast that leaned heavily in favor of a certain demographic and filled it out for more life and realism.

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Accurate description LMAO. I need the AU's to kick in faster, my red solo cup is getting filled by my tears of frustration and agony.

Jasper's pause after the tool statement is absolutely sending me, if you ever wrote a SUF/SU fic I'd be so down, omg. Steven accepting her stalking presence is such a treat, also let him be a little snarky, haha! Meanwhile, Jasper is a towering, bright orange security team of one.

Truly don't know what they got going on either, I think I just don't know enough about Aunt May is really say, but they'd be vibing for sure! Peter as Mark's science tutor is everything to me omg, but Mark not figuring it out until Peter hints at him or blatantly says it would be also everything to me, personally. Especially since Peter's whole face is covered in comparison, while Mark's face/hair is exposed! Nolan as the mysterious, vaguely mentioned figure as a build up reveal would be so incredible omg. Peter sees him, Omni-Man in casual clothes just at his Aunt's house and is ready to lose his entire shit in a second, because who do you think you are threatening my Aunt--only for Mark, Debbie, Aunt May to be mad casual.

Nolan doesn't even have to put it together, he's just being dragged here, silently plotting about Spider-Man in some woman's house while Peter's right fucking there. Spidey sense going crazy and he's just gotta be normal LMAO. Mark doesn't know what's up with Peter but he's enjoying this family vacation. Debbie is catching up with her buddies in the city, thriving.

JJ, Art, Nolan would be legendary omg. The pure awkward hostility while Nolan does not have enough experience about relationships to really recognize it's even awkward in the first place. JJ really would clock Art's success as suspicious, because it is, Art being definite Spidey defender, especially for the costume is so neat omg, and may a little annoyed JJ's trying to investigate him, like, buddy, I make costumes for everybody, you don't wanna even try investigating into me, do you want villains threatening you? And JJ don't give a fuck he'll print the truth if it's there. Meanwhile Nolan's vibing. He has 2, count 'em, two whole friends. It's nice.

I can see the inciting incident just being Nolan has to maybe some kind of disaster that makes GoG/Cecil to fly up to where Spidey is, incidentally, and ends up flying into Spidey, with a face full of web (spidey senses are screaming and he's casaully ominious anyway). Nolan has been pissed every since. Spidey is ofc snarky and mouthy, and depending on how wide spread Guardians knowledge is, either is aware Nolan Will Kill People, which fuck you get outta my city then, or doesn't know if he's a hero, which the murderous vibes and screaming spidey sense are not helping. Cecil tells Nolan not to worry about it, just leave, and Nolan cannot let it go. How could some red-blue brat can catch him off guard during the week he was going to kill the Guardians? Diabolical. He refuses to accept this. Nolan keeps coming back, Debbie suggests if he likes the place so much why don't they take a little trip, and boom, Guardian-slaughter put on the back burner. Mark is happy with the family vacation!

S3 refusing to move stuff around and elevate a story that's like 20 years old (I think?) is so crazy to me. You have a chance to make it incredible and you refuse. Why????? WHY. TELL ME.

AND YES THE PUBLIC KNOWING WOULD BE SO FUN. Gimme Debbie changing the plot! The ramifications! Let her DO things to change the narrative oh my god!!!! The way the show is never consistent about if secret identities matter except for when it wants drama is so stupid. Nolan openly shows his face. Mark says his goddamn name. Hero names actually utilize their real names. Who cares!!!! Why don't you have Mark hostile about someone trying to step in or replace his Dad, while Debbie doesn't coddle him, 'cause yeah, if you wanna be here I'd step around that wound lol. It feels so weird about these type of things because like why do we have them? Why is this here? And if we have to have it for some fucking reason, why not add onto the characters, build on them, instead of throwing shit at the wall that makes no sense. Why is Debbie coddling some random stale man instead of being a menace? Let her have a drinking problem or SOMETHING. Let her be angry and petty and vindictive and RECKLESS. LET HER DO SOMETHING OH MY GOOOOOD.

It will never not be charming if villains were so desperate to appease the Graysons, while wounded people + heroes are giving Mark the side eye. Cecil is stressed out of his goddamn skull. Debbie doesn't give a flying fuck. She's off to travel with her new villain/ex-villain friends who understand her grief for fucking once and validate her frustrations. LET HER DO SOMETHINGGGGGG. PLEASEEEE. Let her and Mark even go in conflict, even! Have Debbie know/impact the order faster than Mark will ever know about them. Have the Rock Guy realize he has to deal with the shifting power dynamics in the city, and Debbie is something to watch out for. Mark, he can mess with, but Debbie is reckless, angry, and she has connections. Heck, we discussed Art having connections, maybe he's giving her even more contacts just for the fun of it, he makes costumes for heroes and villains, he's not really concerned with rigid morality here, perhaps more entertainment.

Mark is having a morality crisis in the background, because that's his Mom and Oliver wants to be a crime boss like Debbie, and he wants to say that's wrong but it's really not hurting anybody, and in fact it's really beneficial since he gets tips to take down villains. Cecil is having an aneurysms. Please, having Oliver accepting oh, just keep the people I care about safe is so fucking funny, and I'm screaming because it's probably a lesson he can absorb easier than Mark screaming about how murder is wrong. Debbie has a point and Mark cannot articulate why this feels wrong and just kinda spirals.

I NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT EITHER. HE DIDN'T APOLOGIZE. He has done some nonstop diabolical shit and hasn't even said the most basic thing in the world, like bro, you snatched your kid up, the one you said you would replace, to use him to fix you a mess you made and couldn't even say sorry. You guilt trip him, while being worshiped like a fucking god, insert yourself as a immortal king for a people's generations, and have a whole new kid. LIKE HELLO? WE DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT HOW FUCKING WILD THAT IS??? Oliver should hate Nolan's fucking guts.

No for real, it's so annoying because he could have been SO interesting and they refused. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY. Bashing my head into a wall. WHY.

Debbie is so truly suffering like why isn't she a person anymore? Why is she so chill? WHERE'S HER RAGE? Where's the woman that stood up against Nolan without a fear in the world? "Let her be a bit of a dick to Oliver. let her get more aggressively competitive at work and piss off her coworkers. let her have fucked up villain friends. let her still struggle w drinking." <- LITERALLY. GIVE IT TO HER. LET HER HAVE THIS. LIKE, PLEASEEEEEEEEEE. Let her hit someone with her car lol, I'd honestly love exploring that. Graysons and their kill counts lol. Have her villain friends or Cecil cover it up, tho I'd love the former more than the latter.

Let Debbie be INTERESTING AND HUMAN AGAINNNN. LET HER BE MESSY.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.