#But yeah he's uh- not doing very well and given all I put him through. I can hardly blame him

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,��� The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Post-canon post-reunion post-reuinion-sex. Dean takes Cas out in the Impala for a drive for the first time since he got back a year after he was taken. Before Dean starts the engine he hesitates and gets a little shy and defensively says "don't laugh at me, okay? I need them." and he pulls a pair of plastic framed glasses out of his jacket front pocket and puts them on.

Cas does not stop staring at him, which Dean can only handle up to the first stop light. There's an heated blush on his face when he barks:

"Quit the surveillance Big Brother. Something wrong with my face?"

"You've aged."

"Jesus."

"It's a compliment. Your resourcefulness and resilience have allowed you to live past the time you were intended to by fate."

"You need to go back to charm school, Thermopolis. 'You've aged' is never a friggin compliment."

"It is. You've aged, and you're taking care of yourself."

There's a touch, light, to the side of Dean's face, tracing gently up under the gap of his glasses to caress his crows feet.

"Cas!" Dean complains, "I'm driving!" But he doesn't push his hand away.

"You're growing," Cas continues, sliding a long finger over Dean's eyebag, "You've lived." He taps the leg of Dean's glasses as he withdraws, adding, "You have defied God."

Dean tries very hard to follow the logic, feeling his face screw up as he does, but he's got nothing. "Huh?"

"Chuck's design for humans was faulty, amateur. There was much he did not account for. In creating the means to live, and live well, with the body you have been given, humanity has proven its superiority to God himself."

Dean scoffs, feeling a little shy again, "It's just glasses, Cas."

"The product of thousands of years of innovation. The work of thousands of people across millenia." Cas pauses for a moment, then asks, a touch breathless, "Can I tell you what I like to imagine?"

"Uh, sure?"

"I like to imagine, when I think of the work of other humans across all of time, that they were doing it all in service of you."

Considering this, Dean lets a Jeep turn onto the road in front of him. "Is it like a sex thing?"

"It's not a sex thing. It is the placement of my desire for you over the will of thousands. My love supercedes their true intentions, their ambitions, their circumstances. I am reappropriating their care to act as a vessel for the depth of my feelings for you."

"Hm. Sounds like a sex thing."

"It is not a sex thing."

"Okay, tell me this, then," Dean says, turning to face Cas at the next red light, "Do you or do you not want me to wear the glasses next time I suck you off?"

"...yes, I do want that."

"I rest my case. And hey - just a tip, from one flirt to another. Next time you want to bring up your hot librarian fantasy, or whatever, don't start by calling the other person old."

"It's not a librarian fantasy, it's a you fantasy."

"Yeah, yeah. Not like I haven't got you-fantasies of my own. How about this: I'll wear just the glasses if you wear just the trench coat."

"I think I could be persuaded," Cas says, and he's smiling, and Dean's smiling, and when he catches a glimpse of his own smile-lines in the rear-view mirror magnified through his glasses, he thinks maybe he gets it. They made it. They're alive. There's proof of it.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Love Language (Jason Todd x Reader)

Prompt: Jason Todd with a gift giving love language

Jason Todd wasn’t the best good at- capable of expressing feelings of affection. Maybe it was just a byproduct of having skipped most of his adolescence, what with the interruption of being buried alive then resurrected in green goop. But whatever, maybe that was just speed running his character development.

What’s not so nice however, is that he’s missed out on those teen years of fumbling through relationship firsts. Sure, maybe they’d be awkward, and he’d look back and laugh at those memories today. But part of him feels like those adolescent years would be far more forgiving towards hesitant confessions and embarrassing slip ups.

Now he’s having to navigate it all as an adult. Unfortunately, it’s not all smooth sailing for Jason, what with his twin quest for revenge and justice blocking out most of his schedule.

The thing is, he has no issues knowing what affection should feel like. He’s experienced the butterflies in his stomach, his throat lodging up because he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing, sneaking glances and immediately averting his eyes when he gets caught admiring you.

He’s experienced the pre-date nerves, having to stare down the mirror to convince himself he’s got this (why is it so much easier to punch a bad guy then tell you that your hair looks nice??)

And he’s also experienced the post-date embarrassments, replaying moments where he felt like a total dunce cause of something he said without thinking (he swears up and down he was not being raunchy when he said he likes sleeping with you. He meant it in the literal sense! Your presence helps lull him to sleep)

No, he definitely has no issues in experiencing sentiments of love and affection. But man does he struggle expressing said feelings.

He’s not sure he’s the best at communicating his fondness towards you. At least not with words, given his tendency to put his foot in his mouth when it comes to matters of the heart.

He’s come to realize while he may not be the best with words, he’s a good listener with a keen eye for detail.

Er- okay, perhaps he could have a keener eye for detail, but hey a man’s gotta have his Achilles heel right?

And that is exactly why he’s stood in the living room right now, with three different pairs of vintage sunglasses neatly laid out on the coffee table in front of you.

His stiffens a bit at your questioning gaze before clearing his throat.

“So, do you remember last week, when you were helping me out with groceries and we passed that vintage charity shop on the way back to my place?”

You do have a vague recollection of passing by a well decorated store selling accessories and other Knick-knacks. You nod as you briefly recall pointing it out to him.

He takes your nod as a sign to continue, “Right so, you had pointed out the store, and I recall you admiring a pair of sunglasses at the window display… you said you’d buy it when you get your next pay cheque. But I thought I’d surprise you with it instead”.

Right, well you are surprised, so that bit was accomplished. Though you can’t help but note how he talks in terms of a singular pair, yet there are three (very stylish) pairs of sunglasses in front of you. So you were surprised and confused.

You look back at him, the question on your lips. But the slump of his shoulders and grumbled huff escaping him tells you he’s already figured out what you’re gonna ask.

“Now look, I remembered the shop… I just couldn’t recall which pair you were talking about. So I- uh, I bought all three of them”.

‘Great. Now she’s gonna think I’ve got the memory of a goldfish and make poor financial decisions’

Jason barely suppresses a groan at the thought, averting his gaze in embarrassment.

“Look I think you’d look good in all of them, so yeah… I mean at the very least you like one of them right?” He asks, his voice faltering towards the end as he begins to doubt whether this was a good idea to begin with.

You barely suppress a laugh at his predicament. Of course he’d do this. Instead of just asking you, he’d rather just buy all three pairs to surprise you.

Your mind flashes back to all the times he’s voiced concern that he’s not expressive enough of his feelings towards you, worried that it would drive a rift between the two of you.

But you know that’s not true at all. He does care, he cares a lot. He’s just got a different love language, one that fits him all too well.

You shake your head with a smile as you rise up from the sofa, walking over to engulf him in a tight hug.

“You’re such a goof you know that?” You mumble against his shirt. Jason mutters in protest though he wraps his arms around you without missing a beat.

You lean back to see his face, a bright smile adorning your features, “Thank you I love them, all of them. And I love you” you declare before pecking his cheek.

A short laugh escapes him at your actions. He takes a moment to drink in your happy smile before proceeding to flick your forehead.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“I’m no goof”

“Oh you’re not? Is that why you technically bought one pair of sunnies for the price of three?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, deciding not to respond lest he implicates himself further.

So maybe words of affirmation aren’t his thing, and maybe it will take him a bit longer to respond back with ‘I love you too’.

But that’s not to say that Jason Todd isn’t completely and hopelessly smitten with you.

—————————————————————————

God he’s so fun to write, a total deer in the headlights when he’s in love.

Should I try this with other love language prompts? Lmk if you have any suggestions!

[evandarya]

Prompt fill from the Discord server. This one is courtesy of @tourettesdog

Prompt where Danny keeps showing up like a stray cat at various hero's houses. He just comes and goes and they never know when he'll show up next. He's just this like pseudo-adopted child who will come over for dinner, crash on the couch, and he's gone by morning. No amount of research will tell them who he is past the limited information he's given them

The various heroes are unaware that his stray cat range wanders so far until someone mentions him at a JL meeting and all hell breaks loose.

There's eventually an intervention

Stray Cat Danny

Clark had just got home when he noticed the heartbeat on the fire escape two floors above him. As far as he knew, that apartment was empty, so it couldn't be the residents going out for a smoke. It was weird, very strange, and not his business.

He tried to leave it alone, but the heartbeat stayed on the fire escape for a few hours. Every now and again Clark would hear whoever it was shift, but other than that they stayed quiet. Again, weird, but not his business.

Until it started to snow right when Clark was about to start dinner.

He was just going to make sure whoever it was had somewhere warm to stay. Maybe direct them to a shelter. Clark opened the window and looked up, there was a dark bundle, worryingly still, on the fire escape.

"Excuse me?" Clark called. The bundle shifted but whoever it is didn't respond. Clark grumbled and made his way up to them, squatting down a few feet away.

"Are you alright?"

The bundle shifted, revealing one blue eye and a tuft of back hair.

"''m fine" a young male voice answered. The blue eye closed.

"You know it's going to snow tonight. I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in a shelter than on a fire escape."

"They're full." The boy answered. "All both of them."

Only two shelters for all of Metropolis? That can't be right. Clark looked up to the sky, the snow was starting to come down and he could swear it had gotten colder since he'd been out here. He couldn't leave the kid out here to freeze.

"How about you stay the night at my place? My couch is pretty comfortable, and I'm making beef stew for dinner, Ma's recipe." He let a bit of his Kansas accent show through. Hoping the country accent would put the boy more at ease. He was watching him now with both eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Did your Ma ever teach you about stranger danger?" The kid asked.

"Not exactly. She taught me to help people out if they need it. Did your Ma teach you stranger danger?"

"No," the boy said, "my mom taught me to put a full-grown man on the ground if I needed to."

That surprised Clark into laughing. "Well, you won't need to with me. What do you say you come inside?"

The boy watched him for another second before shivering violently and glaring at the sky.

"Yeah, alright. Just one night."

"I'm Clark, by the way," Clark said as he closed the window behind the kid.

"Danny." The kid said. He was rooted to the spot just a few steps into the apartment, eyes scanning the room.

"It's nice to meet you, Danny." Clark held out his hand to shake, but Danny didn't take it. After an awkward second Clark cleared his throat. "Uh. The stew is going to be a little while. You're welcome to the laundry and shower if you need it." Danny was pretty clean, but there was visible dirt on his face and clothes. "I might have some clothes my nephew forgot that you're welcome to." Dick was bigger than Danny for sure, but he was closer to Danny's size than Clark was.

Danny gave him a long look, before shrugging off his backpack. "Sure. Might as well."

Clark left to go get the clothes while Danny loaded some of his clothes and blankets in the washer. Once he presented the tee shirt and sweatpants Danny disappeared into the bathroom. When he reappeared he was scrubbed clean, his cheeks rosy either from the hot water or scrubbing.

Danny was even smaller than Clark was expecting. He was downright scrawny. Dick's shirt hung off Danny's shoulders, and Clark could clearly see his collarbones. This kid was not getting nearly enough to eat. Well, he was going to tonight if Clark had anything to say about it.

"The stew should be ready in about half an hour. Feel free to make yourself at home." Clark said. He expected Danny to sit on the couch and watch TV, but instead, Danny found his home office. it wasn't more than a desk with his work laptop on it and some of Clark's better pieces and awards framed and tacked to the wall above it.

"You're Clark Kent, the reporter?" Danny asked, eyes switching between the wall and Clark.

"That's me," Clark said. "You know my work?"

"I read your piece on metahuman and alien rights last year. It was good."

"Thanks. I really liked working on that piece."

"Did you always want to be a writer?"

"uh. No. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut." Clark said, stirring the stew. Danny snorted. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," Danny said, taking a seat at the little kitchen table. "I wanted to be an astronaut, too."

"Yeah? You still could." Clark said.

"Nah. It's hard to be an astronaut without a high school diploma. What made you change to writing?"

"I went through a few different career paths before I landed on journalism."

"Do you like it?"

"I do. I like uncovering the truths people try to hide." Clark said. "You'd make a decent journalist, I'd think. Half of it is just asking the right questions."

Clark served up the stew into two bowls and brought them over to the table with some rolls and butter. "I don't have much in the way of drinks, is water okay?"

"Water would be great, thanks."

They ate in relative silence, Danny was too focused on his food to ask more questions. After they ate Danny nodded off on the couch almost as soon as he sat down. Clark couldn't bring himself to wake him up, so he just covered him with a blanket from the linen closet and headed to his own room.

Maybe in the morning he could make Danny pancakes or waffles and get him some new gloves and a jacket. The question was what to do after that? He didn't want to drop Danny off at a shelter, and taking him to the police would only destroy whatever trust he had gained with the boy. At the same time, he only had a one-bedroom apartment. He couldn't keep Danny here. Clark sighed. He'd have to talk to Danny in the morning and see what he wanted to do.

When Clark woke up he was greeted by the silence of the apartment and it took him a few minutes to figure out why that was wrong. There should be another heartbeat. Fearing the worst, Clark rushed into the living room to find it empty.

The blanket and clothes Danny had used had been neatly folded and placed on the back of the couch, along with a handwritten thank you note.

How did Danny leave without him hearing? Moreover, how'd he leave with the doors and windows still locked?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: who's a tired bitch?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky drives you home. Just him. No Merv. You have your books and the pajamas but it feels like so much more. 

His fingers tap on the shifter. You’re overly aware of his every move. You try to shrink yourself in the seat, feeling crowded with only him in the car. His hand slips and he reaches over to rest it on your thigh. He rubs you through your pants. 

“You alright?” He asks in a grit. 

“Yeah,” you squeak, fixating on his touch. “Fine.” 

“You don’t gotta be so nervous. You know I like you,” his fingers continue to move, sending ripples through you, “not much you can do to change that either.” 

You press yourself into the seat and flick your eyes up to the windshield. You recognise that house. Your thoughts rush over you and you grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“Stop,” you say. 

He hits the brake and you flutter your lashes, looking at him, “just drop me here. I can walk.” 

“What? Doll? What’s wrong?” 

“I... well... what if someone sees you?” You ask, “my mom, my sister... they’d wanna know why you were driving me home if I’m just working at the hotel, wouldn’t they?” 

He considers you and tilts his head, “hm, you’re clever too, doll. Suppose they would.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not--” 

You keep your hand on his but don’t try to move him. Nor does he pull away. Instead, he squeezes your leg and lets out a purr. 

“I’ll make you a deal, doll, you give me a kiss and I’ll do what you say. You can go, enjoy your books, try on your jammies,” his blues eyes blaze at you, “and I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you. Until tomorrow.” He makes a pained expression, “you know a man can only take so much when it comes to pretty women.” 

You giggle, overwhelmed by his words. No one ever calls you pretty, only your mom. In fact, Roxie always said it was good you have a brain because your looks won’t get you very far, and she wasn’t proven wrong. Not until him. 

“Okay, uh,” you gulp and look down at his hand, slowly peeling yours off of him, “I just...”  

You touch the seat belt and follow it down to the buckle. You click the button and let it repel behind the seat. You swallow again, trying to wet your dry mouth. If it gets you home without any extra questions, you can give him a kiss. It wasn’t so bad earlier, was it. It made you feel... a lot. 

You shift and lean towards him. His hand crawls up your leg to your hip as he urges you close, himself angling over the space between your seats. Your gaze meet his sapphire irises and you squeeze your eyelids shut. He’s so handsome you could melt. And he want a kiss. From you! 

You press your lips to his. He growls and his other hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you there before you can pull away. His tongue glides along your lips and delves past them. Like earlier, he invades your mouth eagerly, drawing you into him as he groans. You grasp the front of his shirt and squeak. 

The smell of his rich cologne seeps into your nose and his warmth swirls around you. You’re trapped by more than his strength; you’re completely swept up in his need. You’ve never felt anything like that. No one has ever wanted you as much as he has. Even if you’re scared, it’s nice to feel that. 

He leaves you breathless as he parts his lips from yours, hovering just before you as his pants shallowly. His tongue pokes out and traces his lips. He purrs and his eyes threaten to swallow you up. He’s even more handsome up close; ever line is like a paint stroke in a masterpiece, every hair is placed perfectly, and his features are sculpted just so. 

You blink and feel your chest crush. He's so much better than you; more attractive, richer, older, smarter... Your eyes gloss over just a little with the reminder and his hand slips down to your neck, his grip on your slackening. A divot forms between his brows in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, doll?” He rasps. 

You shake your head and force a smile, “nothing,” you eke between taut cheeks, “I just... I don’t want to let you down.” 

“Doll, you can’t do that,” he chuckles, “you gotta trust yourself. Trust me. I mean every word I say.” He exhales and looks you up and down, “I want you so bad...” His fingers curl into your neck and you feel him shake, “you...” He closes his eyes, his lips slightly open, and he pulls his hand off of you. He recoils and sits back in his seat. “You should go before I just gotta show ya.” 

Is it a threat? It sounds like one. Your blood runs cold as he balls his hand to a fist. He puffs through his nostrils, eyes still closed as if he’s fighting himself. You reach back to grab the bag from behind the seat and pull it into your lap. 

“Thank you, Bucky, for the drive home,” you say, “and for everything else. It’s all so nice.” 

“Doll,” he dips his head down, “anything...” His fist tightens, “have a good night.” 

“You too,” you chirp and pull on the door handle. 

It doesn't open. Panic pricks in your chest as you search for the lock. You hear a pop and glance over as Bucky presses a button. The door unlocks and you nearly fall out of the car. 

You right yourself and close the door gently with a sheepish look in his direction. He watches you, reaching to grip the steering wheel. You give a tiny wave and slowly turn away. There’s a giddiness in you. Even if you’re entirely out of your element and can’t quite believe any of it, you feel special. You’ve never really felt that. Just forgotten. 

You start down the street. You don’t look back until you get to the corner and look back. Bucky sits still in the car, just where he stopped. You can’t see through the tinted windows. His headlights flash, a signal but for what, you’re not sure.  

You turn and continue onto your mother’s street. You stop just at the threshold and look down at the bag in your hand. You don’t like to lie but you need one. You walk up to the front door and onto the small porch. You enter quietly, hoping maybe you won’t be heard. You’ve never struggled very much before going unnoticed. 

Your sister lays on the couch in the breadth of the oscillation fan. It’s hot. The news said there’s a heat wave. You’re feeling it now. You almost feel bad that you’d been too busy to notice before. That you’d been in nice places where every detail, including the temperature, is perfect. 

“Finally home,” Roxie sneers without looking over the back of the couch, “long shifts at the casino, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you do your best to keep the bag from crinkling. “Busy.” 

“That’s what a job is. Try a night at the club. That shit is chaos.” 

“Sure, uh, I can’t imagine,” you shuffle into the kitchen.  

You expect to find your mom waiting for you but it’s empty. You go to your room and hide the bag on the other side of your dresser. You close your door and come back out. She’s there, in her robe with a bonnet on her head. 

“Mom,” you croak, “hi, uh--” 

“How was it? First day!” She chimes. 

“Uh, yeah it...” your voice trails off as your jaw locks and you fear the truth spilling out. The day flows through your mind; the kissing, the books, the food, and more kissing. “...was a lot.” 

“Oh, yes, well, a casino,” she chuckles, “that can’t be anything but hectic. So what do they got you doing? Dealer? That’s exciting.” 

“No, er, no, just... cleaning,” you stammer. 

“Right, yes, I forgot. You said before. I’m sure people make a mess there too,” she scrunches her nose, “so, what do you feel like for dinner? We’ve been waiting on you. Tacos? Spaghetti?” 

“Oh, I’m not very hungry,” you say, “sorry, but I’ll help you cook.” 

“You should eat, honey,” she insists. 

“I now, it’s just...” you look up at the ceiling and think. You scour your mind for your brief recollection of the casino, “they have a buffet at work. Employees eat free and... I got carried away.” 

“Ah, lucky. Wish my work had a buffet,” she trills, “guess I should just be thankful for the health insurance.” 

“Mm, yeah,” you try to smile, “so, I can help cook--” 

“No, no, you just had your first day. You just relax. I’ll leave a bit extra for you, just in case,” she squeezes your shoulder then caresses your arm gently, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.” 

“Oh yeah,” Roxie blusters as she appears behind you, “because scrubbing toilets is so amazing.” 

She shoulders past and your mom moves out of her path. You frown and your mom gives her a sardonic look, “hey, I’m proud of you too. I’ve told you that.” 

“Why? I hand out flyers to desperate men looking for one-night stands?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” your mom rebukes. 

“Well, it’s the truth,” she snickers, “half the night, I don’t even hand out the things. I just hang out by the hot dog seller. He gives me free food.” Roxie looks at your archly, “see, not the only one with perks.” 

“Mm, I like hot dogs,” you say, “um, I’m gonna... lay down.” 

“Sure thing, honey, let me know if you need anything. Oh, chamomile? I could put the kettle on.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her as you back up. “Promise I’m fine. I, er... tomorrow, I start in the afternoon so I’m gonna sleep in.” 

“Oo, that will be nice. But be careful, if you’re working late, I’m sure there’ll be some unruly people hangin’ around,” her forehead lines with concern, “I’ll give you some extra money for a cab. I don’t want you on the bus that late.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree, just wanting to hide. You don’t like lying and with each word, it’s harder to hold yourself together. You don’t think you can do this. “Thanks.” 

“Course, hon, whatever you need.” 

You retreat to your room. You sit on the bed and stare at the wall. It’s not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day. How long until Bucky moves on to the next thing? You googled him, you’re not that naive. At least you don’t think you are.  

It feels rotten. You don’t like not telling your mom the truth. You tell her everything. She’s the one person who listened to you. Well, until Bucky. You can feel his gaze just thinking of it. How intent he is on every word, how he focuses on your lips as they outline every syllable.  

You’re an adult. It’s not a lie. It’s a secret. And you don’t have a lot of options. It’s about time you help out and Burger King isn’t calling you back to scrape grills. 

No matter how many times you justify it, it still feels wrong. Even if the way Bucky looks at you makes you all wiggly inside, it’s still lying. Even if you really need the money, it doesn’t change what you’re doing. And you are doing it. You have to.  

You don’t want to see another red notice in the mailbox, you don’t want to hear your mom crying through the wall. You want to be able to give her a day off, more than that. She’s taken care of you for so long, this is just what you need to do to take care of her. 

That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. 

You get up and go to the dresser and take the bag from behind it. You slide out a book and lay down with it. That’s how you cope. You read, you go to a world that doesn’t exist, just until you’re forced back to reality.  

You shiver at what awaits you at the end of the first chapter. You know what Bucky expects and you know he won’t forget. The thought of the pajamas, the little top and the tiny shorts... 

Don’t think of it. Open the book. Things will be normal for just a little longer. 

[finelinevogue]

the eras

summary - harry is the best boyfriend ever and not just because he has taylor swifts number

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

word count - ~1k

.’•*,.’>*,~<\*•,.-:’•.~_,*^;-.•*

“Hey babe.” You answered the phone whilst you wandered down the bakery aisle at Tescos.

Friday night was always grocery shopping night. The end of a week, beginning the weekend a fresh.

“Hey.” Harry answered.

“You okay? Need anything?”

“No, uh, you put cereal bars on the list right?”

“Yeah. I got ‘em. Where are you?”

“I’m just leaving Gem’s now. I’ll be home just before you I think.” He coughed out.

“Okay.” You said reaching for a loaf of whole grain bread, because Harry doesn’t care for white bread and you refuse to eat bread with seeds in.

“Need to ask y’something though.” He cleared his throat, which got you listening carefully.

“Right…”

You walked down the crockery aisle, because you cannot help yourself when it comes to an eclectic mug collection. You see a new, cool, mug? You buy it. There’s no other option.

As you pondered over whether any of the mugs took your fancy, Harry continued talking.

“So I spoke to someone today.”

“Uh… Congratulations?” You laughed out nervously, making a joke in a weird situation.

“You wanna know who?”

“Well, obviously.”

“Taylor.”

No second name was needed.

It was obvious who he meant.

You stopped reaching for a mug and instead stood still. You couldn’t move for a brief second, until you remembered you were in public and thought that being a statue might be a bit odd.

You placed the basket filled with groceries on the floor and pushed your hand back through your hair to ground you.

“Okay.”

“And she’s offered me - us - something.”

“Am I going to to get jealous? ‘Cause you know how much of a power couple you two made.” You giggled nervously.

“There’s too much to unpack there for a phone conversation, but no you won’t get jealous. Well, I mean, maybe you will I don’t really know what goes on in your head someti–”

“Harry!” You paused him.

“Taylor’s given us free Era’s tour tickets.”

You gasped a little bit.

Well, a lot. So much so that the people around you stopped to watch you, thinking something was wrong with the aisle or the mugs.

“Fuck off.” You cupped your hand over your mouth.

“Yeah, for London. Said we can come to all of them, or just one and whichever date.”

“No, babe, stop. You’re fucking lying.” Your eye’s watered.

Harry knew how much of a Swiftie you were. Like BIG time. You’d been a fan for a very long time. Through all the hate and all the drama, you had been there. Harry was even saved in your phone as ‘Taylor’s Ex’ as a period of time - as a healthy joke between the two of you.

You had a TikTok that was dedicated to being a fan, but it was mostly filled with you reacting to Taylor content or filming a series of videos where you rated Harry’s outfits - even though you’re with him when he’s getting dressed in a morning.

To not only get to go to the Eras tour, but to be invited by Taylor herself… Well. World ended.

“No, it’s real. Promise.” Harry laughed to himself, imagining you right now.

A few tears ran down your cheeks.

“Fuck. This is so embarrassing.” You laughed, wiping your nose and sniffling. “I’m literally crying on the mugs aisle.”

“Y/N, baby, we don’t need anymore mugs!” Harry laughed more.

“Shut up, yes we do. Wait. Is this real?”

“It is, my love. You’re going to the Eras tour.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

What Is and What Never Should Be | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: Dean's an alcoholic dick, coping with trauma from a sexual assault, mentions of parental abuse, mentions of suicide but like not really cause it’s in a dream, canon violence, canon gore (take care of yourselves, as always. Love you guys.)

Word Count: 5281

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About two weeks had passed since you’d left Deacon’s prison. You were convinced it was the hardest two weeks of your life. You couldn’t quite decide if you wanted Dean hugging you all the time, or if you never wanted anyone to touch you again. It felt like every time you looked in the mirror, you were in that disheveled prison guard outfit again, tears streaming down your face with fresh scrapes trailing down your arm. You felt like you were never going to leave the prison’s parking lot.

It definitely didn’t help that you were also having to deal with being fugitives simultaneously. Sam and Dean were waiting for you back at the motel. You put the two of them on a strict lockdown given their mugshots would be everywhere, and the feds hadn’t seemed to find a clear enough image of you to post yours. You drove the Impala around the area of your newest hunt searching for a potential location the victims could have been brought to while the boys researched back in their motel room. 

You knew Dean could tell you were pulling away from him, and you knew it was hurting him. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t let him in right now. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems given Sam was supposed to be the main concern right now and evading federal agents was a huge priority. You needed to deal with your issues in silence in order to keep yourself from completely breaking down in front of the boys and pulling focus away from what you believed were more pressing issues.

Your phone rang and broke you out of your thoughts. It was Sam’s number. “Hello?” you said into the phone.

“Hey. Got you on speaker,” he replied. “There’s a cop car outside.”

“You think it’s for us?” you questioned.

“I don't know.”

“I don't see how,” Dean jumped in, his voice a little distant. “I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards.”

Sam breathed out suddenly. “They're leaving. False alarm.”

“Well, see. Nothing to worry about,” Dean jested.

“Yeah, being fugitives? Friggin’ dance party,” Sam deadpanned.

“Hey, man, chicks dig the danger vibe,” Dean commented.

You scoffed. “Got anything yet?” you asked the boys.

“Just one thing. I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn,” Sam answered.

“Really? How do you know?” you questioned.

“A freaking genie?” Dean asked simultaneously. “What? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Quran.”

“And where do these guys shack up?” you asked. 

“Ruins usually. Uh, bigger the better; more places to hide,” Sam replied.

Something struck you. “Y’know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out.”

“Hell no, (Y/N),” Dean stated, voice suddenly much closer to the phone. “You’re not goin’ without us.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around,” you argued. 

“I’ll call you guys when I’m headed back.” Despite the voices of the Winchesters protesting, you hung up the phone and turned the Impala around. 

Minutes later, you came upon a decaying factory. Doors squeaked on their hinges as you pushed through them and decades-old papers crunched beneath your feet like fallen leaves. Everything seemed very empty and very abandoned, but you weren’t quite convinced. You headed deeper into the factory past several offices with smashed windows on their doors and blinds hanging crookedly. 

Suddenly, something grabbed you and pinned you to the wall behind you. You dropped the flashlight you were holding as the Djinn pinned your hand above your head. You got a clear look at the monster in front of you; a bald man with curling blue tattoos detailing his face and body. You struggled against him, trying to get your knife through his chest with your free hand, but he pinned that one as well. The eyes before you began to glow an electric blue, and your entire body went numb.

*** The next time you woke up, you were alone in a comfortable bed. You jerked up, turned on the lamp next to you, and took in the room around you. There were scrubs tossed on the back of a rocking chair in the corner of the room and a picture of you and Dean hung on the far wall. 

‘What the fu—’ you thought. 

Suddenly, a shirtless Dean entered the room wearing sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean!” you exclaimed. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

He eyed you strangely and snorted. “Wha— What do you mean?”

“Where are we?” you asked.

Dean paused, still standing in the doorway and taken aback. “Uh, our house?”

“What?” you questioned.

“Babe, are you feeling okay?” he questioned, sitting on the bed next to you. “I knew your shift at the hospital was bad, but—”

“Wait, what? I don’t work in a hospital, I was hunting a Djinn—” 

Dean cut you off. “You were probably just having a bad dream, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

You weren’t quite sure what Dean was talking about or if this was even Dean. Maybe  he’d been possessed, maybe you’d been— ‘Wait,’ you thought. ‘The Djinn. Maybe he did this to me.’

Dean climbed into bed next to you, and you noticed he wasn’t wearing the amulet he quite literally never took off. You were apparently eyeing him strangely, because he chuckled, “What?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Just, uh— where’s your necklace?”

Dean laughed, almost sounding relieved. “Oh, I took it off to shower.” He put a silver chain with dog tags hanging from it around his neck. He opened his arm for you to settle into. 

Hesitantly, you laid down on Dean’s chest. You didn’t get much sleep the remainder of that night, though; incredibly uneasy about what was going on around you. 

Around three in the morning, you slipped out of Dean’s arms and began to explore the house around you. You peeked through the bedroom window to see a neighborhood outside that screamed Middle America. You crept down the hallway to the living room and kitchen area. 

Along the walls of the den, there were photos hanging of what looked like you as a teenager and a child, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t think photos of you existed of that time in your life. And if they did exist, they definitely were not of you at your third birthday with a pink frilly party hat stuffing cake in your face or of you in a cap and gown graduating high school and college. The next thing that caught your eye was a picture of you hugging Steven tightly. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight. However, it wasn’t your Steven. This one was older and a lot happier than the Steven you once knew. 

Then, there were pictures of you and your mother. Your father was nowhere to be seen, much to your surprise. You nearly wept at the sight of your mom. Then, there were pictures of a young Sam and Dean. One was Dean hugging his mother. He looked much older than four which was the age you knew his mother died at. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. 

You took out your phone and checked the time. You considered for a moment, but decided to call Sam figuring he would likely be up soon anyway. 

“Sam?” you asked when the call was answered. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice sounded raspy and tired. 

“Hey, yeah, what the hell’s goin’ on, man?” you demanded.

“(Y/N), what are you—”

“Oh, god, not you, too.” You hung up the phone and ran a hand through your hair. No one but you seemed to understand that this wasn’t right. You noticed something laying on the coffee table at your feet. An envelope addressed to you with Lawrence, Kansas written on one of the address lines. 

“Lawrence? Why the fuck am I in Lawrence?” you breathed out. 

You noticed a computer sitting a distance away and immediately hurried to it. You typed in your password; no luck. You tried Sam’s password for his and Dean’s shared laptop; no luck either. Frustrated, you sat back in the desk chair. You weren’t sure where the idea came from, but you suddenly had the thought to type in Steven’s name and birthday. Somehow, it worked. You remembered how that was your original idea for a computer password when you first bought yourself a laptop in your real life, but the reminder of Steven was too painful to do so. 

You then set to work researching the Djinn. You learned that they’re not so much genies as they are wielders of godlike power. They could alter reality to their whims however they want in the past, present, and future. 

Then, the thought hit you. ‘What if this is just my life now? What if I never see my Dean again? Am I even a hunter wherever this is?’ Your breath hitched as you realized something else. ‘Was I ever raped? Are my parents alive? Where’s Stevie?’

You typed “whitepages” into the search bar and put in your father’s full name; no results. You tried your mother’s and actually got a hit. She lived in Lawrence, too. 

‘What the fuck?’

You then tried Steven’s. Surprisingly, his name generated results, too. He also lived in Lawrence. 

You hurriedly wrote their addresses down on a sticky note beside you on the desk. When you returned to your room, it was around five in the morning. Creeping around the room, you discovered the clothes in your closet were nothing like you wore in the real world: flowing skirts, cardigans, and lots of different colored scrubs. You almost smiled at the sight of the clothes hanging in your closet. 

‘In another life, I definitely would’ve worn all this,’ you thought. You’d always wanted Carrie Bradshaw’s closet; Sex and the City was one of your guilty pleasure shows in the real world.

Your outfit of choice consisted of a pair of low-rise jeans, a halter top with a plunging neckline, and… ‘Oh.’ The only shoes this version of you had in her closet were heels. Admittedly, you’d never been great at wearing them, but always wanted to try. And so, you did. 

Dean still slept peacefully, and you carefully clacked your heels back down the hallway. You headed outside to find the Impala in the driveway, and for that, you were grateful. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” you grinned. You remembered seeing car keys on a hook next to the door of the house and quickly grabbed them. You popped open the trunk of the Impala secretly hoping to find something useful in it. However, old playboy magazines and paper cups were all you found.

‘Ew, Dean, clean out your car.’

You moved around to the driver’s side of the car. Before you could sit down in it, though, something caught your eye. A girl with a gaunt face and billowing white clothing was standing across the street on one of the neighbor’s lawns. A car blew past, and she was suddenly gone. 

***

You rolled to a stop in front of the first address you had written down: your mother’s. You tried to keep your composure as you walked up to her front door. Hesitantly, you rapped your knuckles against it. 

The door opened to reveal your beautiful mother who you’d missed so much. She looked a little older than she did the last time you saw her, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from throwing your arms around her.

“Mom?” you breathed out.

“What is it, hon?” she asked. “C’mon, come inside.”

The sound of her voice made tears spring to your eyes. You followed her into the living room where pictures of you and Steven lined the walls between crucifixes.

“Hey, Mom?” you started. “What song did you sing to me before you used to put me to bed?”

She looked confused, but humored you anyway. “The, uh, ‘The Long to Be’ song by the Carpenters.”

You smiled, partially in relief that this seemed to really be her and not just a figment of your imagination and partially at the fact that she knew. You rushed to her and hugged her tightly. Your mother seemed taken aback once more, but didn’t say anything to let on that she was.

“You okay? Everything alright with Dean?” your mother asked you. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s— everything’s great. Just, uh, it was a rough day at the hospital, ‘s all,” you said.

“How’s the garage?” 

You tilted your head. “The garage?”

She seemed confused, too. “Dean’s? How’s work going for him?”

“Oh, oh. The garage, of course,” you laughed awkwardly. ‘Smooth, (Y/N),’ you mentally berated yourself. “Yeah, it’s fine, it’s great.”

“Really? Last time we talked, he was too busy drinking to focus on fixing a car,” she said.

You felt stunned. The Dean you knew was bordering on becoming an alcoholic, sure, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his job.

“Baby, I’m glad to see you, but why are you here at six in the morning?” your mom questioned.

“I just— I just couldn’t sleep. Needed to see my mom,” you replied. It was a half-truthful response.

Your mother offered a small, thoughtful smile. “Oh,” she suddenly said. “What time are you and Dean going to dinner tonight?”

You tilted your head. “Uh—”

“For Mary’s birthday?” she prompted. 

“Oh, oh,” you said. “Right.”

“Did he not tell you?” she asked. “(Y/N), I’ve been telling you that boy isn’t right for you for a while now.”

“Mom—” you protested.

“No, (Y/N). You’re a fantastic nurse. You’re dating a drunkard mechanic. Why couldn’t you have dated Sam?”

“Ew, mom, no. Sam’s my best friend,” you said.

She seemed stunned. “What? That’s new. Last we talked, you hadn’t heard from Sam in months. Neither had Dean.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. “Right, right, yeah. Sorry. I’m just—”

“Have you been drinking? Dean’s rubbing off on you, (Y/N). You should have listened to me when I warned you about him,” your mother sighed. 

“Jesus, Mom—”

“Don’t take his name in vain!” she scolded.

You scoffed. “I forgot that you’re like this.” You crossed your arms and turned away from her. 

“Like what?” your mother pressed, voice rising. 

“So incredibly judgmental of me. I’ve never been good enough for you or Dad, Mom!”

“How dare you bring up your father!” your mother cut you off.

“What?!”

“Wow, you really are drunk, (Y/N),” she replied. “He’s been dead almost your whole life. You barely even knew him. How could you say that about him?”

You felt like you’d been punched in the chest. ‘So that means he never hit us.’ “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Just leave, (Y/N). Please. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she sighed.

You turned and slammed the door behind you. You sat in the Impala with your head on the steering wheel just trying to process everything that was going on. Even in this fantasy land or new reality or wherever this place was, your mother was harshly critical of you. Granted, you’d rather her harshly criticize you and be alive than dead, but this version of your mother perfectly mirrored the true version of her. It truly freaked you out. 

‘Well, scratch that off the list, I guess,’ you thought.

***

You hesitantly knocked on the door of your little brother’s home. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked upon opening the door.

Tears sprang to your eyes. “Steve?” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked.

You smiled as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Uh, just a hard day at work ‘s all,” you replied. You threw yourself into his arms; a hug he responded to immediately. 

“Hey, seriously, what happened?” he asked when you pulled away. “Was it Dean again? The hospital never gets to you like that.”

“Wait, what? No,” you shook your head. “Why does everybody keep saying he treats me poorly?”

Steven looked at you as if it was obvious. “Uh, ‘cause he does. He’s an alcoholic playboy asshole that you’re way too good for.”

“What?!” you questioned. “No, he isn’t.”

He sighed. “Listen, (Y/N), I don’t wanna keep having this fight with you.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied. You stopped for a moment. “Stevie, I’m really happy to see you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m glad to see you, too.”

A small voice piped up from behind your brother. “Daddy?”

Steven stepped back to reveal a staggering toddler in pigtails. He picked her up and grinned down at her. “What’s up, kiddo?”

‘He’s a dad?’ Your shock only increased, and you smiled at the sight of them interacting. Another tear slipped down your cheek. 

“Why’s Minnie crying?” the toddler asked her father.

You grinned. “She calls me ‘Minnie’?” 

Steven nodded. “Yeah, just like I used to.”

You laughed. “Can I hold her?”

“Duh,” he replied, handing his daughter to you.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you grinned down at her. She tugged on the ends of your hair, babbling happily and singing to herself.

“Look, Minnie, I braid.” The toddler held up a now twisted, knotted mess of your hair. 

You smiled at her. “Awesome job, angel.” 

You sat on the floor playing with your niece and Steven for hours until your phone rang.

“Hey, (Y/N), where ya been?” Dean’s voice came from the other line.

“Steven’s,” you replied. “Why, what’s up?”

“We gotta be at my mom’s in an hour. Meet me there?” he asked.

*** You met Dean on the steps of his mother’s house. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned, pecking your lips. 

Suddenly, a voice came from behind you. “Seriously, Dean?”

“Sam!” you exclaimed, turning around to give him an enthusiastic hug. He hesitated to return it, and the woman next to him cleared her throat. You released him to come face to face with Jessica, a woman you’d only seen in pictures. 

“Hey, Jess,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue. You hugged her as well, and she awkwardly laughed.

“Hi, (Y/N),” she said. 

You then noticed the awkward distance between the two brothers and the bags Sam was lugging out of the trunk of the taxi in front of you. 

“Where'd you guys come from?” you asked.

“We just flew in from... Califor—”

“California! Stanford and everything. Right, sorry,” you laughed. “I’m really not with it today.”

Sam nodded somewhat disapprovingly. “I can see that.” He motioned to the beer in Dean’s hand. “I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual.”

“Sam—” Dean warned.

Your heart was breaking at the awkward tension between two brothers who were otherwise incredibly close friends. You couldn’t believe there was a universe where Sam and Dean weren’t, well, Sam and Dean.

***

The restaurant you sat in next to Dean was stuffy. Sam and Jessica were dressed equally as stuffy. Nothing felt right at this moment. You were suddenly reminded of the reason why you were here, and that you needed to figure out how to help yourself get out of here. 

“Wow, that... looks awesome,” Dean said, referring to the plate of steak and asparagus that had been placed in front of him.

Sam raised his glass. “All right. To Mom. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you, Dean, and Jessica said in unison.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, clinking her glass against yours.

You watched Sam and Jessica peck each other on the lips and you smiled fondly. 

“I was really worried about you last night,” Dean told you.

“Oh, I'm… I'm good. I'm really good,” you nodded.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he smirked. “I know a few ways I can make that a reality, though.”

You recoiled at that comment, slightly dumbfounded by how correct Steven had been about Dean’s behavior in this realm.

“Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday. Ah,” Sam turned to Jessica, “you wanna tell 'em?”

“They're your family,” she laughed.

“What? Tell me what?” Mary asked excitedly.

Sam held up Jessica’s left hand to reveal an engagement ring. You laughed happily in surprise. “Holy shit! That’s amazing!” You got up and hugged Sam happily before hugging Jessica. “Congratulations!” you told them.

“I just wish your dad was here,” Mary told Sam.

You suddenly realized John was missing. You searched Sam’s face, whose disappointment mirrored his mother’s.

Dean and Sam awkwardly shook hands which hurt your heart a little to see. Just behind them, though, you noticed the girl from earlier. Her white, flowing clothing was much filthier and torn this time. You brushed past Sam and headed toward the girl, pushing past people mingling in between you and the haunting figure. As you pushed past the final woman, the girl was gone.

Confused, you turned back around to see the equally weirded-out faces of the Winchester family. 

Sheepishly, you grinned and walked back over to them.

*** “You got somethin’ we need to talk about?” Dean asked you. He’d been completely silent since dinner up until this moment. He downed a beer in the kitchen before turning to you. 

“What?” you asked.

“Back there with Sam. What’s going on with you two?” Dean asked. “In fact, you’ve been acting really weird the past two days. There somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You scoffed. “Dean, I’m not fucking your brother. Look, I’m not feeling like myself right now. ‘S all.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dean responded mockingly.

“Dude, why are you being such a dick?” you questioned.

“Oh, so we just call each other ‘dude’ now?” he argued.

“Listen, I’m really not enjoying this attitude, okay?” you responded.

Dean cut you off. “I’m not enjoying yours, either. What happened to the sweet little nurse I married?”

“Jesus, we’re married?” you questioned before you could help yourself. 

“(Y/N), what the hell?” Dean replied, his confusion seeming to grow by the minute. 

“I think I’m just… overly tired. I’m gonna… sleep out here tonight,” you said.

Dean scoffed. “Since when are you the childish one?”

“I’m not being childish, Dean, I just wanna sleep on the couch tonight, okay?” you hissed.

“Fine.” He left the room and returned to the bedroom the two of you apparently shared. You heard the door slam a moment later, and you flinched. You settled to the couch and pulled a blanket over yourself. You clicked on the television and began clicking through the channels. Something on the news caught your attention.

“And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424,” the reporter began.

“What the—” you breathed out. 

“Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the hundred and eight people who lost their lives—”

Your throat clenched. “No, no. We stopped that crash.”

Panicked, you moved to your computer. Every hunt you checked had apparently never happened. “Nine Children Comatose” was the headline describing a “mystery illness” that had swept Dane County Hospital. Then, the brutal homicides from the clown killer after John died. And Taylor from the closing-down-Hoodoo-hotel case had drowned in the hotel pool. As you looked out the front window, you saw the same woman you’d seen twice already flash by the window. You turned around to see several female corpses hanging around you, and you nearly screamed out in surprise. Then, that same woman again flickering in front of you.

This twisted world was completely shocking even you, an experienced hunter. Your mind raced, but you knew what you had to do. A picture of your dad holding you as a baby on the wall of your house caught your attention.

“I’m sorry you’re not here, Dad,” you murmured. “And I know what I need to do. I’m gonna hunt this son of a bitch, but… I don’t know. Stevie’s happy. Mom’s… Mom. And I just— Why do we always have to be the ones to sacrifice something? A part of me is happy to do it, and this is proof that I could never have this. But it’s just… I don’t know. I know you’re tellin’ me to stop whinin’ and just get it done. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

And with that, you grabbed a silver knife from your china cabinet and headed out to the Impala. You managed to steal lamb’s blood from a butcher’s shop and headed to the factory you’d last seen the Djinn at. 

***

Hours later, you arrived at the factory in Illinois. Running on pure adrenaline, you headed inside. You moved your flashlight around to illuminate different parts of the factory, and you ignored your phone as it began to ring in your back pocket. The ringing silenced, and then rang again. Without thinking, you lifted your phone over your head and slammed it into the ground, shattering and silencing it completely.

Then, you came across a big store room with the same bodies you’d seen hanging in your living room strung up around it. Next, you noticed the woman you’d been seeing all along. She seemed close to death; her cheeks sallow, face pale, and body hanging limply. 

“It’s her,” you breathed out.

Suddenly, you saw the Djinn coming around the corner. You ducked into the shadows as the woman began to cry. “Where's my dad? I won't tell—” she suddenly cut herself off. “Don't. Where's my dad?”

“Sleep,” you heard a soothing male voice say. “Sleep.”

You then saw the woman’s body completely relax, and the Djinn began to drink from the blood bag next to where she was hanging. 

‘So that’s what it does,’ you realized. ‘It doesn’t grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.’ As the Djinn disappeared, you continued to think. ‘What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?’ You walked up to the woman. “I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.’ You nearly scoffed audibly. ‘So, she’s not a spirit, she’s a flash of reality. I’m catatonic. Fucking great.’

Then, you remembered an old wives’ tale. “Listen to me, motherfucker!” you called into the darkness. “I’m gonna slit my fucking throat! I die in a dream, I wake up, right! Come and get me, I dare you!”

“Wait!” Dean’s voice suddenly called. He walked into the room. 

“Why'd you have to keep digging?” Sam asked.“Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? You were happy.”

Your mother walked up to you and put a hand to your cheek. “Put the knife down, honey.”

“You're not real,” you said, tears forming in your eyes. “None of it is.”

“It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had,” Steven replied, holding his daughter. 

“What?” you breathed.

“It's everything you want. C’mon, let’s go home,” Dean pleaded. 

“I'll die,” you argued, voice breaking. “The Djinn 'll drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”

“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime,” your mother said. “I promise.” She put her hand to your cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. (Y/N), stay with us. Get some rest.”

“You and Dean don't have to worry about Sam anymore,” Jessica said. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

Dean walked up to you and kissed you fiercely. “We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, sweetheart. Please.”

“Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?” Sam tried. “I'm begging you. Give me the knife.”

You looked over to Steven, your lip quivering as you sobbed. “I’m sorry.” You slashed your throat with the knife, and the world went white once more. 

***

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone yelling. “Sweetheart, wake up. (Y/N)!”

‘Dean.’

“Oh, God. Come on,” you heard Sam murmuring. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!”

You began to roll your head a little, and your eyes could finally open. “Hey, guys.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Dean sighed. “I thought I lost you for a second.” 

One of the two boys yanked out the IV in your arm. 

“You almost did,” you joked half-heartedly.

“Oh, god,” Dean muttered, giving you a once-over. “Let's get you down.”

You winced as the boys helped you down, but you suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes glowing behind the boys. “Boys!”

Sam wheeled around, going at the Djinn with the knife. Dean immediately tried to get you away from the scene and set you down a distance away from the scene. “Stay here!” he ordered.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I,” you groaned as Dean turned to help his brother. Several yelps and groans later, the two boys staggered over to you after having killed the Djinn. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing, and immediately moved over to the girl you’d been seeing in your sleep. “She's still alive!” you called to the boys upon feeling a pulse in her neck. 

The two Winchesters helped you cut her down and get her out of the factory to a hospital. 

***

Upon your return to the motel, you found out from the hospital that she was alive and stable. There was a solid chance the girl would pull through.

“How 'bout you? You all right?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, guys,” you said. “I’m great, actually. I’m just— I’m just glad to be back here again.”

“What was it like?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you were a complete dick,” you replied.

Dean chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“And Sam— Sam you were such a freak,” you said. “All stuffy and Stanford-y.” You paused for a moment. “But, uh, you guys were really breakin’ my heart, honestly. You couldn’t get along to save your life.”

“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy,” Sam said.

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” you replied. “I know we’ve lost a lot, but, uh, I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. Even seeing Stevie again, I— it just wasn’t right. I felt like more of a freak there than I do here. I, uh, I wished what happened to me at the prison never had, but the truth is, that’s always gonna be with me. I can’t just… get rid of it. Nothing can. And that’s not okay, but I’ll learn to live with it.” 

You left the boys to sit with your words and moved to the bathroom. When you looked up at the mirror, an image of you with your mussed-up hair and guard uniform on flashed before you. You ignored the fresh-looking scrapes on your arm and blood streaking down them and shut your eyes. When you opened them once more, you were back to looking at your sunken face and tired eyes. 

Dealing with this was hell. Every day felt like a struggle since what happened to you. But deep down, if you were honest with yourself, you would take dealing with all this with your two boys over your white-picket-fence, Djinn-dream-life any day.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Better Than Revenge

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: uhhhh in accidentally posting the wrong thing I think I wrote the wrong request at some point so you know what there’s gonna be a bonus story okay. OKAY now that I’m reading this I’m- I think- I did the request wrong and uhhh….. well here’s you know evidently another bonus fic I hate everything 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Eddie can literally hear Buck laughing all the way to the truck, okay maybe not all the way but a damn good ways down the hall that’s for sure

He has no fucking clue how he got locked in a closet, but he did. At least he wasn’t alone… he looks over at you, sitting with your ankles crossed on the floor. Your head hung so low he can’t bear to look at you anymore without asking 

And he really shouldn’t. 

He should just keep to himself, he should just-

“Are you okay?” 

Dammit Eddie. 

“Huh?” You look up at him, your face stained with tears and it breaks his heart, his Mexican, telenovela, hopeless romantic heart. Because you’re so pretty and you smell so good and is this stupid room getting smaller?? 

Okay, that was a bit much but you get it. He gets on one knee, pulls his glove off with his teeth, and reaches for you, tilting your head up

“Hey… hey what’s going on? Are you hurt? Did something happen??” 

His inner hero is practically clawing at its enclosure to save help girl, this really really, pretty girl. 

And your inner…. Uh, something is clawing at its enclosure to jump this man. 

“No! No, it’s- not it’s nothing like that” you laugh awkwardly, wiping at your tears quickly. “I- I'm sorry” You shove those thoughts very very (not) very far away as you try to control your tears 

“No please, don’t apologize… are you okay?” Eddie comes to sit next to you, plopping down on the cement floor. He takes his helmet off along with his other glove and gets comfy… they’re gonna be there for a while. 

“I’m… yeah I’m fine” you sniffle, shrugging your shoulders weakly. He nods slowly, looking down at his helmet in his hands 

“You know…. If you tell me the truth-“ he picks it up, setting it down carefully on your head “I’ll let you wear the helmet” 

You snort, nudging him with your shoulder and shaking your head slowly “I’m not five oh my god” you giggle as you hold the helmet on your head and look up at him 

“Yeah, but it got you to smile didn’t it?” He shrugs off his jacket, the room may be small but it is entirely concrete and entirely underground, he can feel the chill in the air as he puts it over your shoulders, the frayed, distressed shorts and oversized crop top not really cutting it down here. 

You hug the jacket to your body, sticking your arms through the holes. It smells good, kind of smokey, kind of earthy, definitely something that’s probably signature him.

“Alright, I’ve given you my coat, and my hat. Now you gotta tell me what’s wrong” he nudges you back and you smile a little more, rolling your eyes 

“Okay fine. I came to visit my boyfriend? He’s got an office near almost the top floor. Well… uh- it was supposed to be a surprise! But you know… imagine my surprise… when this fucking asshole has his secretary bent over his desk!” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open when you say that, he splutters, gesturing wildly and you nod vigorously 

“Yeah!!! And she knew he had a girlfriend! She knows me!!!” 

He gasps so loudly it echoes around the room

“Are- are you?!!! Are you shitting me?!” He grabs his radio from his jacket, clicking it 

“Buck?… oh my god Buck I have tea” 

You fall against him laughing as Buck answers back 

“Oh my god, spill” 

Eddie repeats back what you said, and Buck is gasping wildly, reacting absolutely ridiculously 

“Oh you tell me what the fuck this asshole looks like”

“No no I-“

“I’m not gonna beat his ass yet. I just want to know if he even stuck around” 

You roll your eyes, describing him and Buck scoffs “Oh. That guy.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was worried about his office. Said he’s got a nice set of golf clubs he’d gotten for his birthday in there, his prized possession”

Eddie looks at you as you blink back tears “T-that’s all he said? That’s all he’s worried about?” You ask, your voice cracking and Eddie has to look away for a second 

“Uh yeah… I’m- I’m sorry kiddo, maybe he doesn’t know you’re in there. Let me find out okay?” 

“Okay” 

You set the radio down and stare at the wall, just waiting quietly. Eddie reaches out for you, catching a tear as it falls down your cheek 

“He probably doesn’t know” 

“He does” you sniff, wiping at your tears and sighing loudly “No. he uh- he fucking knows.” You laugh bitterly 

“Y/N come on there’s no way he-“

“He fucking knew” Buck growls back into the radio and Eddie picks it up 

“Are you shitting me?!” 

“It’s okay!” Buck perks up “I punched him in his stupid fucking face!!” 

Your head whips to the radio as Eddie laughs “You did what?!” You squeak your face lighting up 

“Oh, Buck I could kiss you!!” 

“Give it to Eddie for me, I’m sure he’d love that” 

“Oh my god she’s not gonna-“

“Bet” 

You pull him toward you, kissing him slowly, his hands come to your waist immediately, squeezing lightly as he kisses you back. He moans quietly into your mouth, his lips moving in sync with yours and you purr softly. You pull away a little and he follows you, making a little “nuh huh” noise, and you giggle, letting him cup the back of your head, kissing you deeper. Your hand comes up his chest, fingers pulling at the bottom of his hair when Buck clears his throat 

“A-are you guys actually kissing?” 

Eddie lets you pull away this time, letting his head rest against the wall behind him as he stares at you. You stare back, your cheeks pink as you wet your lips 

“Uh- no?” Eddie answers back and you snort 

“That was not very convincing,” You and Buck say in unison. You giggle and go to stand up to stretch your legs out when there’s a sudden loud rumbling noise 

“Edd-“ the radio buzzes as the sound gets louder 

“Y/N! Come over “ He yanks you down into his lap, pulling you tight into his body as he turns you both over, shielding you. A few panels fall loose from the ceiling around and you scream when something giant hits the door, putting a large dent in it  

“Eddie?? Eddie, are you okay? Y/N?? Anyone??” 

You sneeze as the dust settles, and Eddie pulls away from you 

“That’s your sneeze?” He coughs a little and you punch him in the shoulder 

“What’s that supposed to mean!” 

“Oh nothing… little kitty” He coos and you pick up one of the ceiling panels and threaten to hit him with it 

“Please, please anyone??” You hear Buck’s voice. Watery and worried 

“Buck? Hey, it’s us we’re okay it’s us. What happened??” 

“Oh thank god. Oh god Eddie the building settled, you guys are…. A bit more stuck. Is everything okay in there? Is Y/N okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay. We’re both okay, just a little dusty… how much is “a bit”?”

“We’re gonna need a crane,” he says bluntly and Eddie groans 

“And we’re not high enough on the list are we?” 

“List?” You ask quietly 

“As long as neither of you are hurt and everything is still structurally sound? No.” 

Eddie sighs and looks at you “Other people need that crane more than you and I do”

“So now we’re really really stuck huh?” 

“Yup” 

It’s been two hours since the door had been blocked. You’ve got your head in Eddie’s lap as he strokes your hair slowly, listening to you talk. You’ve both gone back and forth, discussing a lot of different things, a lot of deep things that a stranger knowing wouldn’t really hurt anything…

“You think one day you’ll feel normal?” You ask quietly, picking at his pants and he shrugs, looking down at your hair around his lap 

“I don’t know” 

“For what it’s worth? I hope you find your peace Eddie… I really do” you mumble and he smiles softly 

“I dunno… this has been pretty peaceful” He chuckles quietly “Thanks uh… thanks for listening”

“Hey? What are “locked in a closet” buddies for?” 

You sit up, giving him a little kiss on the cheek, and push yourself up. He looks at you as you stretch above him, admiring your plush curves from his position on the floor. 

It wasn’t the first time the conversation had turned a little steamy, a little flirty. But it was the first time he’d felt a little bit of a pull toward you. Especially after the things he’d just told you, for the first time, he felt heard… he felt seen. Not to mention that freaking kiss, he couldn’t take his mind off of it, the feel of your lips against his, the way your body felt against him. 

“You know uh… you’re really beautiful. I can’t believe Jared fucking cheated on you.” 

Your cheeks flush as you look down at him, he’s sat between your legs, his ankles crossed. There’s no harm in letting you know how pretty he thinks you are…

“You uh… you really think so?” You blush and he nods slowly 

“He’s never seen you in a fireman’s uniform huh? Never seen the way it drowns you.” 

“Well I mean- he’s not as big as you are” 

You mean how tall he is, how… big his arms are, how broad his shoulders are- 

“I didn’t think he was… leaving such a pretty little thing like you”

“Are you flirting with me?” You turn away, toward the blocked door, and you hear his legs uncross, widening his stance. 

“Maybe? Would you mind if I was?” He twiddles his thumbs and you turn back, reaching down and grabbing his gloves, he watches you slide them on, drowning in his work outfit and it’s doing things to him if he’s being honest. Is this a kink? It feels like a new kink. 

“It’s helpful… in- in a moment where I’m not feeling so hot you know?”

“Are you joking?? You’re gonna let that asshole make you feel like you’re not the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen? To ever exist??”

You laugh a little “Oh come on Eddie? The-“

“Hottest.” He interrupts you not even giving you room to fight him 

“I still think you’re just saying that. But thank you” You give him a little bow and he pulls you down by the jacket and you stumble onto his lap 

“Hey be careful! You might-“ 

He presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up and cupping your face. You shortcircuit for a second and he smirks against your lips. He takes your hands one by one sets them on his chest and nips at your bottom lip when you curl your fingers around his shirt 

“Now you’re getting it” He whispers breathily before slipping his tongue past your lips, taking full advantage of your floundering and exploring your mouth. His hands start to roam, sliding beneath the oversized coat and gently across your bare middle. He hums appreciatively as they come up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers trailing across the bottom of your bra 

“You can tell me to stop” He kisses down your jaw, biting on the nape of your neck and you gasp softly, melting into his body 

“N-no fucking chance. God, you’re kissing me better than he ever did” 

Eddie looks up at you as he sucks and nibbles at your collarbone “Bet there’s a whole lot of things I can do better than he ever did…” His hands cup your breasts, squeezing gently and massaging them slowly 

“We’re alone… and it seems like we’ve got time…” You trail off, your cheeks blushing and you feel him grin against your skin 

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” 

“That depends on what you think I’m suggesting” 

Eddie takes the radio from his jacket again “Hey Buck, you there?” 

“Always” 

“Is Jared out there?” 

The line is silent for a moment and you take that opportunity to surprise Eddie, rocking your hips forward on him and attacking his lips. You kiss him frantically, your hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer. He chuckles wickedly, pushing you back onto the floor and settling between your legs, you struggle out of the coat and he laughs, helping you get it off 

“Eddie?” Buck's voice comes through the radio and he stretches to reach for it while unbuttoning your shorts at the same time 

“Here” He answers, watching you desperately unbutton his shirt 

“Why do you have so many!?” You hiss and he snorts, just ripping it open the rest of the way 

“Better??” 

You’re practically drooling over his chest, his skin smooth and tanned. You blink slowly as Buck comes back 

“Yeah, he’s definitely still here. Trust me, I’ve been making him feel as guilty as possible. I gotchu Y/N”

You pull your shirt over your head, and Eddie bites his lip 

“Damn…” 

you grin wickedly as you pull your arms from your bra straps, pushing it further down your waist and out of the way, the cool air around you causing your nipples to pebble 

“Jesus fuckin-“

“Eddie?? You there?” 

You reach forward and click the button “He’s here. Thanks for making Jared feel guilty!” 

Eddie takes your breasts in his hands, kneading them slowly, squeezing and teasing your nipples. He leans forward, kissing the valley between your breasts, pulling them together, and rubbing his face against them. He bites the sensitive skin gently, leaving teeth marks and little bruises behind. Your breath hitches, tugging at his hair and egging him on to do it again and again. 

“Fuck you’re hot” His hips grind down into yours and your thighs shake 

“I want you, Y/N” 

“Hey guys if you’re doing what I think you’re doing, Revenge sex is the way to go. Trust me I’ve been telling Jared all about how amazing and cool and sexy Eddie is!” Buck squeals through the radio and Eddie rolls his eyes as you giggle 

“Thanks, man. Thank you, uh we’re just- we’re-“ You shimmy out of your shorts, revealing the tiny thong you’d put on as a surprise and now it’s Eddie’s turn to short circuit. He stares at the sheer material covering your dripping sex. He drags his finger over the top of them, enjoying the way your slick coats his finger 

“You’re???” Buck radios and you reach forward, taking the radio back 

“Let that asshole know he’s been replaced” 

You toss it aside, Buck is making some weird strangled screaming noise and screaming at Jared when the radio cuts off. Eddie’s pants are off as fast as he possibly can and he’s stroking his cock between your thighs 

His eyes darken as he lines up his cock with your entrance, pushing inside you slowly. You’re tight, and he relishes the feeling of being inside you.

“O-oh my god- Fuck” You wriggle under him, adjusting to his size as best you can “H-holy sh-“

“Bigger?” His voice is so haughty and confident and you nod quickly, squirming 

“Sooooo much bigger” 

“You gonna be okay?” He puts his hand on your tummy, pushing you back down and you gasp loudly “Need more time?” He asks teasingly as his hips start to move slowly.

You shake your head, reaching for him and he grins, leaning into you as you rip off his gloves and claw at his back, your body arching into him eagerly 

Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, his hips moving in slow, deep thrusts. He kisses your neck, his other hand gripping your ass, guiding his cock in and out of your wet heat.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his pace picking up. He’s relentless, his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust. Your legs fall open wider, your body bouncing with each snap of his hips. 

Eddie grins, feeling your legs spread wider, giving him better access. He picks up the pace, his thrusts now brutal, his cock slamming into you with every movement. “You like that, don’t you? You like it rough?” He growls, his hand gripping your throat, squeezing gently.

You’re so close, the building tension threatening to explode. Eddie can feel it too, his own release building with each thrust. He pounds into you, his grip on your throat tightening, the combination of pain and pleasure driving you both over the edge.

Eddie moans your name, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes. You cry out, your body convulsing as you reach your own climax. He holds you close, his breathing heavy as he rides out the aftershocks.

“Damn, that was hot,” he pants, his cock still buried inside you. 

“S-so- so-“ You sound delirious as he releases your throat and pulls out, leaving a trail of cum between your legs. 

“Fuck” He mumbles as he falls next to, pulling you into his arms. You curl into his body, nuzzling your nose against his chest and he buries his face in your hair 

“Uh huh” you giggle, your voice muffled 

“I- I realize” he clears his throat “We uh- we did this a bit backward… but Buck is having a cookout this weekend…you wanna be my date?” 

“Will there be other sexy firefighters?” You look up at him and he rolls his eyes, chuckling and giving your butt a little spank 

“Not as sexy as me… will you do me the honor? Y/N” 

“I’ll be there… you want my number?” You grin sleepily 

“Mhmmm” He turns over, covering you more with his body to keep you warm “Need your address too so I can pick you up” 

“What a gentleman” You giggle and he kisses your nose 

“Can I ask you somethin else?” 

“Uh-huh” 

“You uh…. Think you might be okay with just skipping to being my girlfriend?” 

“That depends” You murmur, your voice becoming a lot softer as you start to fall asleep 

“On?” He gives you a little nudge so you wake up 

“If you don’t mind skipping straight to being my boyfriend?“

“Oh hell yes” 

You’re not really sure how long you've been asleep, but Eddie is shaking you gently. Your clothes are back on properly and you’re wrapped up in his jacket still. He’s got his clothes back on and his shirt is as closed as he can get it. You can hear the sounds of the crane working to get you two out 

“Time to leave?” You ask, rubbing your eyes and Eddie gives you a thumbs up 

“Time to leave baby girl” 

Your cheeks flush deeply, It had felt like a dream honestly, you weren’t even sure it had happened. But when Eddie grabs your hips and kisses you again desperately you know it wasn’t. 

The door flies open and slams against the wall, you shriek as you pull away, covering your eyes from the sunlight on your face

“Y/N!!!, Eddie!!” 

You recognize the voice from the radio as he comes over and scoops you up, hugging you as tightly as he can 

“You’re okay!!” 

Eddie gets up from the floor, groaning loudly and stretching his back “I am too damn old for this” 

You snort as Buck picks Eddie’s helmet up off the floor and sets it on your head 

“You ready to get out of here cutie?” Buck takes your hand and you look up at Eddie who shrugs his shoulders 

“I’m ready” 

Buck helps you out carefully, climbing over a few pieces of debris left in the way. 

“Hey, you sure you didn’t get hurt?” He’s standing in front of you, his hands on your hips as he steadies you. Eddie lands on his feet easily, adjusting his shirt again to try and keep it closed 

“What uh- what do you mean?” You ask as you shrug off Eddie’s coat and hand it to him 

“You’re walking funny, honey. And you wince every time-“ He stops for a minute, his eyes widening 

“Did- did you guys actually-“ 

He’s interrupted by a man calling your name, he’s got a black eye and you slap your hand over your mouth 

“You seriously punched him?!” You laugh to Buck as Jared comes over 

“And it’s so worth the amount of trouble I got in” He snickers as Jared stops in front of you 

“Baby?? Baby, are you okay?” He holds your arms, looking you over and you blink slowly

“Are you kidding?? I thought when I ran out of your office screaming that we were over? That was enough to let you know Hey! We’re over!” 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Jared chuckles awkwardly “That- that didn’t happen, honey”

Buck whirls on him and he flinches a little but keeps his eyes on you. Eddie is sitting quietly in the back of the ambulance being looked over 

“Uhhh what??” You scoff in bewilderment 

“Gosh Baby” he laughs, “I think you hit your head, sweetie” 

Your mouth drops open and you shove Jared away 

“I know- I fucking know” you shout “You are not trying to convince me I didn’t see you fucking Angela!!!!” 

“Y/N honey you need to calm down. This is not the way my girlfriend should be-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Eddie is up and he’s on the ground. It happens so fast you’re not even sure you saw it, Eddie punched him right across the face, sending him spinning to the ground 

“I think you mean my girlfriend. Come on gorgeous let’s go get something to eat I’m starving.” 

Buck runs in circles screaming and pointing at Jared as Eddie puts his arm over your shoulders and you proudly lead him over to your car. 

“Yo you just got yo ass WHOOPED” 

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Ten - Our two hearts

☆☆☆

You stand beside Dream while he fixes up some more lf his realm. He had mended quite a lot of it over the last few days, and the residents were starting to return. You had been introduced to many of them by Lucienne.

Dream had chosen this as a good place to start teaching you about the power he has given you.

He was creating more dreams and nightmares, but it was a slow process. It took a lot of concentration from him to do this. He explained everything to you as he worked, but it was still a lot to take in all at once.

He could see at one point that you were growing weary and came to stand in front of you. "Hold out your hand."

You look at him and then hold out your hand. He takes your hand gently in his, cupping it in his palm. His skin is pale against yours. He looks at you with a small smile. You feel something soft in the palm of your hand and look to see something beginning to take shape. A stem. Long and green, full of life. A bud began to take form. Pale pink petals began to bloom. He lets go of your hand as you look at the flower in your hand.

"You made that."

"What?" You look at him.

"I helped, but you made it." He smiles softly. "I didn't even tell you what to make, you did that all yourself. In fact, you have given me an idea."

"Um... what kind of idea?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I want to give you a gift."

You stare at him, hoping he will elaborate, but he doesn't. He just gives you a little grin and then returns back to his work on the dreams and nightmares.

You look at the flower in your hand and bring it to your nose. It smells heavenly. You smile.

☆☆☆

You walk through the palace with Matthew as your guide. Lucienne had called Dream to speak with him privately about something. He told you he would join you again later, so Matthew brought you back to the palace.

You were still holding your flower, admiring it. They way it smelled, the way it looked, the way it felt. You had made this very special little flower.

"Uh, your room is this way." Matthew caws.

You look up and see that you had stopped paying attention and were now veering away from your location.

"Oh, sorry."

You turn around and follow Matthew down the correct hall. You return to your room. Matthew perches on the end of your bed and watches you put your flower in a vase next to your bed.

"You made that?"

"Yes." You smile. "Isn't it pretty?"

You take a seat on your bed and turn to Matthew. He looks up at you with those big black eyes of his.

"Is he a good man?" You ask.

"Who? Dream? To be honest, I haven't known him that long. You should ask Lucienne, though. She's known him a long time." He cocks his head from side to side every so often. "But I think so, yeah."

You smile softly.

"So, are you two married?" He asks.

"What? No! I've known literally days." You look shocked by his question. "Haven't you been following us around all that time?"

"Well, yeah, but... you two seem kind of close."

"Do we?"

"Well, I've seen the way he's been looking at you recently." Matthew tells you that so causally.

"Oh? How does he look at me?"

Matthew is about to tell you, but someone comes into your room unannounced. You look up to find what looks like a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head. He turns and sees you and then stares at you.

"Oh, uh, I wasn't aware you were in here, lady."

"Merv!" Matthew caws.

"Oh, right, um. Mervyn, at your service."

"Hello," you greet him.

"He's kind of the handyman around here. Which brings the question, what are you doing in here?" Matthew looks up at Merv.

"Uh, well, you see, his highness is working on something, and asked me to come see what kind of things you like. I just didn't think you were in here. Thought I'd coke snoop through your stuff and get some ideas..."

You chuckle softly and look at him. "You came to snoop?"

"Yeah..."

"That's considered rude. Why not just ask me?"

"Uh... I don't know."

You laugh and stand up. "What do you want to know?"

The next fifteen minutes were spent in a game of 20 questions. Mervyn asked you about your favourite colours, favourite animals, favourite flowers, favourite music, favourite foods, what you liked to wear, what you liked to do.

You told him everything.

He was doing this because Dream had asked him to. You were certain if he wasn't so busy with whatever it is Lucienne needed him for, he would have come to ask you all this himself. It made you feel warm inside.

Once Merv had all the answers he needed, he left. You chuckled as he went.

"You'll get used to him." Matthew said to you.

"I'm sure."

"So, you are staying?"

"I am." You smiled. "The Dreaming is my home now."

☆☆☆

Dream sat on his throne with a thoughtful expression on his face. In his lap was a big red book with your name on it. It contained your life history. Lucienne had brought it to him and stated he should read it.

He saw your childhood on these pages. He saw everything Rodrick Burgess did to you. More the lack of what he did for you. His only daughter cast aside. It infuriated Dream how poorly you were treated by that family. Now you were safe within his realm.

Also in the book was the moment you both met. He looks down at the scar as he reads that part. His soulmate. There was hope in his heart that you would see him differently in the future.

He certainly saw you in a different light.

Dream hoped his gift would be the first step to winning you over. He had concluded business with Lucienne ages ago and then gone to start on your gift. However, he was curious to read what was in your book, so here he was.

As he nears the part where he took you away, he heard footsteps entering the grand throne room. He lifted his eyes from the page he was on and found you walking over to him.

His heart skipped a beat.

Dream closed the book and put it down carefully to the side. He stood and made his way down the steps to meet you halfway. He was pleased to see you.

"Hello," he greeted you softly.

"Hello." You smiled. "Have you been busy?"

"Quite."

There was a slight eagerness to him. You could see it in his eyes and his smile as he stood there in front of you. He almost, almost, childlike.

"What's up with you?" You ask softly.

"Why should anything be up with me?" He asks, smiling.

"Because you're smiling. You don't exactly do that." You pointed out.

"Oh?"

You roll your eyes. "Just tell me."

"Come with me." He starts to walk away. You follow him, trying to keep up with his lkng strides. Wherever he was taking you, he was determined to get there quickly.

He led you out of the palace round the back. You had gone past your room, and down a hall, you were certain hadn't been there before. He took you through a door that led outside into a courtyard. Around the courtyard were empty flowers beds. In the centre was a fountain. Opposite the door, you came out of was an arch covered in flowers that led to more flowerbeds.

You look around you. "What's this?"

"Your garden."

You snap your head towards him and state at him in confusion. "My garden?"

He looks at you in amusement. "Yes."

"What do you mean my garden?"

"Exactly that. I've made you a garden," he says proudly.

"When did you have time to do this?" You knew it took a while for him to build his residents in the Dreaming, so a whole garden would have taken hours, you're certain.

"I can create places quite easily. A garden was simple enough. Once Lucienne left my side, I began this for you."

"You have gifted me a garden?"

"Yes."

You take another look around and smile softly. No one has ever given you something so wonderful before.

"Where are the flowers?" You ask softly.

"Ah, well, that's your job," he states.

"My job?"

Dream guides you over to the closest flowerbed and looks down at the rich soil below. He gestures to it with one hand as he raises his eyes to look at you. "You grew one flower with a little bit of help, so I figured gifting you a garden to practise in would help you."

You look at him on awe. "You did this for me?"

"Of course."

"You didn't have to," you say softly.

"I wanted to."

You feel your heart skip. A warmth settles in your chest. He did this for you. He made this gift for you.

"Thank you."

He smiles at you. His blue eyes seem to brighten. He's certainly handsome. You smile.

"I'll practise. I promise. No more gifts, though. You've given me enough."

He chuckles deeply. "No promises."

You can't help but chuckle, too.

Dream leaves you in your garden to tend to other matters for a while. You're kind of glad because you had a lot to think about. You had him to think about.

Suddenly, everything felt like it was in a new light, and you needed to know what it meant.

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @star-maker-rain-dancer - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 - @hopshusushi - @sloppyzengarden - @thecraziestcrayon -

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 16

Summary: Class has ended and you’re ready to eat for lunch, but everyone has stopped at the door. Turns out Malleus was there, and he craves affection.

(Wanted to write about kisses. And then Malleus popped into my head. So here you go!)

“Um, hey, Prefect?” Oh, well would you look at that, it’s Deuce speaking up this time, “Can I… copy your notes again? Please?”

“Yeah, I really couldn’t pay attention,” Grim tapped his paws on your desk, like that’ll somehow endear you to him, “besides, the board is so far away.”

You and your group are two seats away from said board.

“Yeah, come on,” Ace laid an arm across the back of your seat, “do us a solid, yeah? You know you want to. Can’t resist the call of enlightening our tiny little brains.”

“What are you gonna give me?” You closed your notebook just so Ace and Deuce don’t have a chance to look at your notes. “I’ve been saving your asses for the past two weeks. You gotta give me something.”

“Hehe, that’s my minion! If you want a fast pass, you need to give us reparations in tuna!” He cheered, once more using ‘we’ as soon as he thinks he’s getting something.

“You have to pay too, Cat.”

There will be no ‘we’ this time.

“What?! Why?!”

You tried tutoring them in the past but having Ace, Deuce and Grim all in the same room for more than ten minutes always leads to either an argument breaking out, a bunch of whining, or just general chaos because one or more people tried to slip out of trouble.

Yeah, yeah it’s partially your fault for losing patience and just giving up on them, but you’d think they’d at least pay attention long enough to take notes.

They’re right there! On the board!

They have no excuse and they have to at least pay you back for this emotional trouble.

Was this petty? Yes, very. You don’t care right now. You want a treat. Or money. Or both!

“Huh, ah, well,” Deuce got sheepish and reached into his pockets, “I have gum.”

“No.” He has disappointed you. An unworthy treat for your notes.

“How about I only eat three-fourths of your food this time?” Suggested Grim.

“My treat is me giving you more of my food?” And you don’t even give it, he just steals it!

Grim hissed. He was probably hoping you didn’t know fractions. But, good on him for finally learning. Shame his first thought was to try and trick you with it.

“Okay guys, you all know that’s not what the Prefect really wants,” Ace leans in, acting chummy, “how about this?”

You were given one thaumark.

“…”

“Alright listen, I need the rest to buy other things, okay?”

You got up after calmly putting your notes away. “I’m going to get lunch.”

“No wait come back!”

But, as much as you wanted to walk out and sit at the regular table while your friends slowly fill in the seats, the exit to the classroom was blocked by a cluster of murmuring and rather nervous students.

“What’s he doing here?” You heard one whisper.

“Uh, did we do something? Were we too loud?”

“I’m really hungry but…”

You are not in the mood. You tried to excuse yourself as you bumped into shoulders but you had to settle for grumbled apologies instead as you shoved yourself through.

Finally, you popped out of the other side, a little more heated and more irritable.

“There you are, Child of Man,” so goes the voice of Malleus, who stood to the side of the door, waiting. The cause of this blockage, students frozen with only his green-eyed stare. “I was kept waiting quite a while. How bold of you to do this, after the slight you made this morning.”

What?

“Wha?” Your annoyance was momentarily replaced by bafflement, but that quickly went away when your brain caught up to his words. You grumbled, “Oh, come on…”

Yeah, you’re probably not even gonna eat at the cafeteria. You’re just gonna get your food and go hide away somewhere until you cooled down.

Malleus walked forward, the surge of students all taking a collective step back as though his very air could potentially kill them.

“Well? Don’t you remember?” He crossed his arms and you were ready for that high-brow glare that comes with all people of royalty, but instead, you found an exaggerated and childish pout. “You forgot to give me my morning greeting. I felt off the entire morning, unable to focus, because I didn’t have the memory of you kissing my brow fresh in my mind.”

A hush fell over the classroom.

And then a, “Huh?!” shot out of Ace’s mouth.

You snorted, then gave out a hearty chuckle. Once you calmed down, you waved Malleus over.

“Alright, alright, get over here. Let me correct that.”

A laugh rumbled low in his throat as he tilted his head into your hand. Playfully, you lightly pinched his ear, just because his pointy ears always caught your attention. He twitched, breath hitching just the slightest bit, and you couldn’t resist the urge anymore and kissed above his brow.

Malleus’s lashes fluttered open and the sigh that escaped him reminded you of a pure-hearted maiden with a fast-beating heart. And yet, there’s nothing delicate about the way he stood. If anything, the affection flowing through him made his pride more apparent. He practically glowed with that royal grace he was taught to have.

You couldn’t help yourself. You gave him an extra kiss on the corner of his lips. Malleus nearly hissed in a breath as he clamped his hand over your own, his body leaning in closer towards yours, as though he wanted to meld with you.

But, with a chuckle, you pulled away and he had no choice but to let go. Malleus was back to pouting, though this time, cheeks flushed and hair slightly messier than usual. The air around you was slightly charged with wayward magic, causing the hair on your body to stand on end. And his eyes…

Well, whoops.

“Good morning. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Better get out of here before Malleus jumps you right in this hallway.

[fieryland]

Smoke on the Water (Eren Jaeger)

tw stepcest, smut, scroll if you don’t like it

note I know you sluts love stepcest the most so here you go <3

wc 2.9k

-

Right now, you were home from shopping with Eren. You had dragged him around left and right, made him carry your bags and slide his credit card from shop to shop. The least you could do is ask him if he wants to see everything you bought, putting on a “fashion show” for him after pushing him down on the couch. From your pretty dresses to your new lacey panties and bras. “A little much, don’t you think? Who’s all this for anyway?” eren’s fingers drag along the lace as his curiosity gets the best of him, the glow of your skin instinctively pushing against his touch.

“Why do you care so much?” you giggle “You jealous or somethin’?”

At that he doesn’t say much, the roll of his eyes and reach for his pack of cigarettes mainly spoke for him. Your parents weren’t home so he thought— hey, why the fuck not?

You plop down next to him, albeit in your bra and panties, as he rolls the filter of the cig between his fingertips. The very same ones that touched up on you a second ago. You admire your big brothers hands; large but boney, invisible remnants of your skin spreading through his fingerprints like wildfire.

He hangs the cigarette between his lips and lights it up, the spark of the lighter evaporating in some kind of slow motion. You miss the way it falls to the fur carpeting underneath you, no, you were above it now and it’s never been so clear until today. His eyebrows furrowed in relief of sucking in the smoke. His technique consisted of holding it in his mouth before inhaling— a way of emulsifying before it resounds in his lungs. He turns to you and puffs out a wave of grey air into your face.

You twist your nose in disgust. But was it at the act of smoking, or the trail of slick forming on your panties? He was your brother and all but… God, was he always this hot?

“What? You don’t like it?” he scoffs “You better not tell on me, sis, I trust you. You’ve gotten kinda cool these past few days.” Eren nods his head at the praise, his bun bumping up and down along with him. He surprisingly wasn’t wrong. He went from your typical older brother— y’know, the one that spits in your orange juice out of spite and nuzzles your face into his armpits after hitting the gym? Yeah. Well, now that you’ve given each other a chance, you noticed you actually reap the benefits of hanging out more than you’d like to admit.

Still, you decide to tease. “Uh huh, and you’re still lame as fuck.” maybe that lie was too transparent considering the fact that he flat out laughed at you. You kick his foot like some sort of brat that didn’t get her way and, shit, Eren totally thinks you’re adorable.

“You look good, though.” he takes the chance to compliment you and registers your appearance to use as jerk off material later that night. You were his baby sister but.. that didn’t seem to matter too much right now.

Suddenly, you were more aware of yourself. You acknowledge the breeze that overtakes your body and eases you back into reality, the pulse inside your ears and the stream of your blood. You were conscious, awake and alive. You felt that much more naked and Eren was that much closer to you.

Your face heats up and you cower. “Aw,” Eren coos “don’t get all shy on me now, sis.” he takes another puff before resting his hand on your thigh. A comforting habit of tapping his index finger against your skin, though it felt different now.

“It’s a good thing I’m your brother, right?” he pulls up the elastic of your underwear and watches it snap back against your hip “If someone else saw you like this,” he swallows “it wouldn’t end well for them.”

You take into account the way Eren stares you down head to toe, the parting of his lips when his eyes dart to your soiled cunt and doughy thighs. His attempt at diluting his adoration by putting out the cigarette has clearly failed.

You despise the way you were so caught off guard. I mean, this was your big brother for God’s sake. Yet, you felt as though you were a deer in headlights— as if he were pointing a lamp at your face during one of those interrogations you always see on tv. So, you step up your game.

“Don’t worry,” you roll your eyes; forcibly, but you kept your cool nonetheless. “this isn’t for anyone.”

The screaming and dark blue lighting of whatever horror movie is playing illuminates most of the living room; it being the main source of light accessorised with a kitchen lamp in the far corner is what made everything seem even more intimate with Eren. Your voice drowned out the harsh stabbing sounds of the film— those stupid sound effects you absolutely loathed were taking up the entire screen now. You think to yourself how they couldn’t have made it sound any more dramatic than it already is, but your assumptions were dead wrong.

You begin to think your response to Eren might’ve been a tricky one the minute he flashes his canine ridden smile as though you were challenging him. “Good, then,” he gives you a one-over glance with half lidded eyes “it’s just for me.”

When he turns to the movie, you catch a glimpse of his side profile. His teeth just as white that rendered you just as crazy as before— and the upturn of his nostrils that follow his smile resulted in complete static noise inside your brain. You were practically melting, and he was practically high-fiving himself for the perverted comment he managed to land onto you.

There’s never been a sincere moment where you weren’t absolutely blinded by your big brothers looks. From when you were just two little brats that chased each other around, you had a crush on him. You distinctly remember when it all started; that day you had scuffed your knees and saw the worry in his big eyes, those same big eyes that were now bloodthirsty and dark— maybe you were too small to understand what a crush truly was, but never too old to remember those butterflies that tormented your stomach.

Then there were the stages of getting older, but, you two never grew apart like most siblings. Sure, he’d slam the door on you from time to time, he was a boy after all. But ultimately he remained protective and kept you attached to his hip. You would still sit on his lap and track his hair growth over the years, as well as hold his hand everywhere you went. Sometimes, it was as if you were virtually holding his hand by the way you’d hit his line and complain about poor excuses of boys that kept making passes at you. And I mean poor, Eren had set insanely high standards for what a man should be.

To elaborate, before you entered high school, you recall a moment in which he had whispered to you ‘don’t let any boys touch you.’ Similar to what he said right before you advanced to college. So, being the good little sis you are; you comply.

And now here you were, still stupidly crushing on him and his stupid smile, his stupid hair and his stupid clothes and stupid taste in movies. The word ‘crush’ was best to describe your relationship considering the fact that the two of you had never outright done anything. You shared your first kiss together as teenagers during a night of you not being able to sleep alone, but that was it. However, there’s no denying the amounts of times you would steal his cologne, spray it on your massive teddy bear and ride it late at night. The faster Eren’s bottle began to empty, the more you did it, and the closer he got to finding out.

How he found out was entirely ridiculous.

3am, the witches hour, he had gone to rinse the cum off his navel after pumping his cock a little too hard at pictures of you. At that point, post nut clarity was a nobody to a guy like him, way different from the first time. He had primarily discerned a sick feeling to his stomach for getting turned on by his baby sister, but the more he did it, the more he needed it. He knew he couldn’t finish without you at least crossing his mind. He was fucked up, and he had just found out you were too.

Those moans, there’s no mistaking them. God, you sounded so pretty moaning his name, he almost beat his shit all over again right then and there. Yet Eren was at a disadvantage. He felt as though you had cursed him by completely closing that door of yours. Leaving him in the darkness, yet gifting him with the warmth of your moans. He still inwardly hammers himself for never getting a chance to see you. But he was here now, a spark of the flame you were igniting. Consequently, he takes his chance.

“She kinda looks like you.” head tilted in a puppy-like manner, Eren’s nose points towards a promiscuous lady in the movie. She seemed to be jerking off her male companion, unremarkably participating in a sex scene. Just what kind of horror movie is this?

Out on this scene, however, you laugh at him. “Ugh,” you land a well defended punch to his arm “God, you really are gross y’know that?”

Her head might as well be a chunk of iron is what Eren’s brain was narrating so far. He ought to think you were stupid enough not to see right through him, but you knew better than that.

You rest the subject of the matter — your head — onto his shoulder and curl up into his side. “Shut up, you love me.” His voice guides the vibrations of his body.

You decide to bring him to the test. Notably, you guide your hand underneath his shirt and to his stomach. Caught in between his bellybutton and crotch, you roll the dice.

“Mmmm, do I?” You speak closely to his neck and let your nails ruminate his skin as you glance up to him. To your surprise, he was doing so first. You didn’t even need to look at his growing hard on to notice it was there. You both knew. He felt it, you felt it. Only one of you had to speak up about it.

“I think you love me more, ‘ren.” your eyes make a quick trip to his bulge and back to him to deliver the message.

Eren was losing his mind, but not as off guard as you wanted him to be. He still had the pluck to lean into your face and grin. “Oh yeah?” he licks his lips, some sort of attempt at challenging you. “If you didn’t love me, would you do this?” his hand embraces yours before placing it right over his clothed cock. He was bold— too bold. You were beginning to understand that you’ve just lost at this lifelong game you two had going on.

Your mouth slightly parts at him keeping his hand over your very own, squeezing it in a way of taking the lead. Yet when his lips capture yours into a kiss, the squeeze remained.

Your lips moved against his and your first thought was… nothing. You couldn’t even think at this point. He tasted so good, a mix of cherry and the aftertaste of worn down smoke. You continue to grab at his crotch after he takes ahold of your face— catching a better angle at slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

You press against his bulge as you continue kissing, tongues sliding and spit almost pooling out as he reaches to unbuckle his belt and does exactly so. You pull away from each other momentarily to see the anticipated.

His dick was free, fully erect and painfully hard on his stomach, definitely huge. Everything pretty much checks out. Not just that, but it’s the biggest fucking cock you’ve seen up close; strong and tan at the base, pink and sensitive at the tip.

You accidentally wince at the sight and he scoffs with his head thrown back. “Hmm? Too big for you, baby?” normally, his shit-eating grin and know it all attitude would annoy the hell out of you, but the way he takes his cock into his hand, shakes it and gives it a few pumps makes you rock your hips into the couch cushion.

He steals another kiss before placing your hand on his dick and wrapping his around yours. He moans as he thinks finally.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” he mumbles next to you, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure of his baby sis holding his fat cock. He begins to move his hand over yours, guiding you over the incredible length of him. He leans back in to kiss you as you’re fully stroking him now— but he squeezes your cheeks as a way of getting you to stick your tongue out, and he licks it entirely before kissing you. Was it filthy? Vile? Yes, but he got off on that.

“Mm, fuck.” You whine against his lips, now pumping him up and down all on your own. “Oh fuck,” Eren groans, just barely making out with you. “Strokin’ your big brothers cock.. what a fucking whore.” he teases with a smirk of pure bliss and pleasure.

Sloppy, wet, needy and rough were the words to describe this picture perfect scenario. Kissing wasn’t a foreign act to either of you, but the whole eating-each-other-alive deed made it seem like so.

You had spit on your hand to let it glide easier, that included collecting his precum on your thumb and spreading it all over his dick. His thick cock was throbbing in your hand, leaking as desperately as you were kissing him. You felt it, all of it.

You continue jerking him off and, shit, that look on his face.

His eyes half open yet glued onto you, peeking through the hair that fell loose out of his bun, mouth slightly agape rounded with his newly plump lips due to all the kissing, and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure created a newfound heaven right here on earth. The slick sounds of your hand moving up and down his length generated the perfect combination with his moans and sick mutters of swear words.

He bites his lip before speaking, “Oh fuck. You like that? You like my cock in your hand, baby?” he huffs and you promise, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Erens head was in the fucking clouds, your moans and little hand around him was going to make him cum so fucking hard. It’s embarrassing, almost, how the best he’s ever cum is about to be with his little sister. Your tight grip on his cock was bringing him closer and closer to his high. Consider him a sick fuck for being so turned on by you. Sue him, even. He couldn’t care less, his baby sis just felt way better than any girl he’s ever been with.

He involuntarily bucks his hips up into your hand— fucking it and still letting out deep groans that made your pussy drip and your arousal as high as it can be. You moan along with him, watching him use your hand like it was just another hole to fuck, yet you indulge by pumping him back down.

“Tight fuckin’ hand,” he speaks through gritted teeth “gonna cum, sis. Gonna make me cum so fucking hard, holy shit.” He talks and talks and talks, spits disgusting nonsense as you moan his name back at him.

“Shit, baby, this is wrong,” he claims yet he’s still chasing his high within you. “So wrong. Shouldn’t be doing this but— ah, fuck. You feel so good. Wanna make your big brother cum all over this little hand. Yeah?”

“Please, want your cum.”

At your whines and pleads, he cums. He’s spurting thick white ropes of cum all around your knuckles and fingers, they grow bubbly as you pump him through his orgasm, riding him through to the end.

Hot groans and praises drip from his tongue and beat your stomach up with butterflies. Eren looked so beautiful, his hair down and out of his bun, cheeks flushed and biting his lip when he empties his balls into your hand. Your face grows warm at the view.

He stills before your hand does, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck.” he laughs out, slightly sweaty but his worries trip over the edge and wash away as soon as he sees your pretty little smile. You were collecting the rest of his cum onto your palms and bringing it to your lips. He watched, dick pulsating and everything, as you licked it clean and sold out an unreadable expression at the taste. It was warm, weird to the touch of your throat but your taste buds registered a certain satisfactorily flavor you couldn’t quite make out. Maybe because you were aroused, or wanted to impress him that bad, either way it was worth all your efforts the minute he connected his lips with yours in the form of a deep kiss. Wild and unhinged, yes. But he messily tasted his cum off you and that was what mattered.

“Didn’t think you’d be so good at it.” He poked fun at you in this newly discovered light. You roll your eyes, back to your ‘little sis constantly tormented by her brother’ demeanor.

You were idle for now, discovering stars in each others eyes before your parents arrived home. Knowing Eren, he got horny again and you ended up getting fucked over the armrest of your couch.

No surprise, I know, in spite of that, you would always be his sweet baby sister.

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 4)

I am back !! Thank you for bearing with me as I try and figure out where I want to take this :)

Last

Engineer! Reader x Curly TW: J*mmy being a creep Word Count ~ 1.7k

A few days passed since the incident in the utility room, and (Y/N) saw very little of Curly. It was almost as if he was now the one avoiding her. The only thing keeping her from believing so was Jimmy telling the crew that they were steering through a chaotic bit of space debris and bragging about his contribution.

“Well if you’re so much of a help, why aren’t you in the cockpit with the captain instead of sitting down and eating dinner with us, huh?” Swansea glared, annoyed with his gloating. That shut Jimmy up quickly as he murmured something about working really hard today. 

Nightly routines went on as usual, and (Y/N) sat on the couch to read. Before she could open her book, she glanced over at the coffee machine. Given that she hadn’t seen much of Curly in the past few days, it was likely he was still in the cockpit, looking over the steering of the ship. She got up, pressed a few buttons to dispense coffee and started making her way out of the lounge. He seemed like the kind of person to like his coffee black.

Opening the door to exit, she almost bumped into Jimmy and withered slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

“I was just looking for you,” he said, voice low and breathy. Something didn’t feel quite right to her about this. 

“Oh? What do you need me for?” She asked cautiously as he walked into the room, making her backpedal into the lounge. 

“I just wanna talk, that’s all. Can we do that?” He started reaching for her shoulder and she quickly stepped a bit further from his reach. A sinking feeling in her gut told her that talking to him wouldn’t end well. 

“A-Actually I’m on my way to take this cup of coffee to the captain. He should be expecting me any minute now. Maybe we can talk another time?” She diverted and lied. He grumbled and skulked past her, making his way over to the kitchen as she made her escape. Closing the door behind her and now heading to the cockpit, her heart beat against her ribcage and she felt a rush of relief. Talking to him was always so uncomfortable, but this was the first time that she felt like he was hunting her with his eyes. If she hadn’t lied about Curly expecting her, she didn’t want to think about what Jimmy wanted to talk to her about. 

In the cockpit, Curly sat, exhausted and a little frustrated. He had heard enough of his co-pilot’s complaints of having to stay shut in there all day and couldn’t blame him for his cabin fever induced by the cramped and overstimulating room, so he sent him to bed, not taking too much effort to assure him that he could take care of the steering for the night. A small knock on the door snapped him out of his fatigue only slightly, and he cautiously put on autopilot to get up and open the door. He opened the door to find (Y/N), the object of his thoughts when he needed some comfort from this hellish leg of their journey. 

“Hey,” she said shyly. “Figured you might still be up and over here. How are you?” He slowly moved his arms around her, engulfing her in a hug and letting out a tired sigh. 

“We’re in a bit of a rough patch of our journey, but we’ll make it through.” He looked down at the mug of coffee she held in her hands. “Is that for me?” He asked. She nodded, bringing the cup closer for him to take it. Tenderness filled his expression as he took the cup and moved his other hand to place his palm against her cheek. “Thank you. Can I…” He trailed off, hesitant as he darted his eyes to her lips, unsure of where things were where they left it a few days ago. She nodded, closing the gap herself, conveying as much care as she could through the kiss. Breaking away, she looked over at the multitude of screens. 

“So, what are we up to tonight?” she asked. 

Curly raised an eyebrow. “We?” 

“Uh, yeah. Seems like you decided to throw a slumber party in the cockpit and didn’t think to invite me, so I’m inviting myself,” she stated simply, moving towards the chairs. 

He looked at her in disbelief, amused by her antics. “Okay, very well then.” He sat down back in his seat before patting his lap. “Want to join me here?”

(Y/N) felt shy with this new level of intimacy with the man she had only gotten to know and catch feelings for within the past few weeks. She was a grown woman with independence to do whatever she liked back on Earth but it had been a while since her last romantic encounter, and this level of vulnerability was uncomfortable to her but not unwelcome.

Lowering herself down into the chair to sit on one of his thighs, her shoulders lay perpendicular to his, resting against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist and a hand on her thigh. Concerned, she broke the silence. “Are you sure you’re okay steering like this if I’m sitting on you?”

“Of course. Most of the steering is done by autopilot anyway. All I’m doing is making minor adjustments to the course every fifteen to twenty minutes or so.” His hand moved to her knee, rubbing his thumb against the material of her pants. 

She rested her head on his chest, trying to see if she could hear his heart beating when she yawned. “Oh, there it is.”

“Hmm?” he looked down at her, amused by how comfortable she had already gotten, and so quickly too. Space had a way of making people feel lonely in a way they never experienced before. After so many years of flying with Pony Express, Curly thought he had gotten used to it, but in that moment when the two of them sought comfort from each other, he realised how wrong his assumption was. With her, things were moving quickly, but in a place as lonely and isolating as space, he thanked his lucky stars for such an easy person to talk to, someone understanding of his ambitions and desires and wouldn’t fault him for them like his friends did. It made sense how fast these feelings approached and manifested into what they were now – her, curled up on his lap with her head on his chest, trying her best to force herself to stay awake with struggling success. 

“Curly?” She looked up at him. He smiled, hearing her drop the title and nodded for her to continue. “This feels like it’s moving so fast.”

“Us?” he questioned. 

“Yeah…” She trailed off, mentally kicking herself for not knowing what exactly she was trying to say.

Curly moved forward a bit to adjust the position of the ship with manual steering before leaning back in the chair and sucking in a breath. He watched as the ship coordinates blipped forward on the screen, moving frame by frame. “I’ve been doing this with Pony Express for nearly a decade now. Every time I leave, every time I return, I always have a routine I never break. I’ll have drinks with Jimmy and a few of our other friends to catch up on what we missed back home at the same dive bar we always go to. I’ll spend some time with my widowed aunt who lives alone and has no children, just to make sure her insurance is up to date and to keep her company as much as I can. The family-owned Chinese restaurant that’s only a few blocks away from where I live will be waiting for me so that the owner could complain that I got thinner returning from space and encourage me to stuff myself with char kway teow and collard greens while sitting with his younger son, telling him to study hard so he could someday become a captain like me and make a lot of money. I feel like I come back as the same Curly, year after year, and even though my routine stays the same, everything around me changes. Friends get married and have children, my aunt gets older, heck, that little boy from the Chinese restaurant just started high school, I think.” 

He stared at (Y/N) with what she read as sadness in his eyes. “There isn’t really such a thing as time out here. I lose track of it so easily. Whenever we return to Earth it feels like everything around me goes by so quickly and I feel like I’m always missing out, so I’m glad you’re here,” he said, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face before tucking them behind her ear. “I’m glad that you joined us so that we could get close so quickly. It makes me feel like I’m back on Earth, going the same pace as everybody else is. Every time we talk, every time I see you, I feel grounded. I feel normal.” 

He buried his fingers into her hair as he pulled her in for another kiss, trying to convey all of the want he had for her through the shared contact of their lips. Her hands were splayed across his chest, and she dragged them up to his shoulders, gripping the collar of his coveralls. 

Breaking away, his hands dropped back down to loop around her waist as he gave her a look that ached with so much longing. 

She broke his gaze trying to stifle a yawn, making him chuckle. Placing his hand on her head, he brought it down to lay on his chest. 

“Rest, hun. There’s no need to torture yourself to stay up with me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“But you’re going to be up all night trying to make sure things are fine.” She frowned. 

“It’s okay. A pretty lady came by earlier to bring me a cup of coffee, see?” He raised the mug up to his lips to take a drink and she scoffed. 

(Y/N) kept her eyes open, not moving from her position on Curly’s lap, straining her eyes staring at the screens before her eyelids lost the battle of staying open.

ugh. Be still, my heart. I love a good monologue, if you couldn't already tell. I also cannot stop thinking about Curly's thighs. Thank you for all the support so far :D

[featherandferns]

daylight - ten

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 10 of the daylight series | read part 9 here

content warnings: mentions of abuse and bereavement

word count: 1.5k.

blurb: fulfilling your promise to Barry, what starts as a photoshoot for his website turns into some well-meaning advice.

“What’s biting your bark?”

You lower your camera down from your line of sight so you can meet Barry’s eyes. You hope that way you can decipher what he just said, but no.  “What?”

“What’s the matter?” he translates with an eye roll. You shrug. 

“Nothing. Why’d you ask?”

A small smirk starts to show as he nods to your camera. “Because you’ve just taken about five pictures with the lens protector still on.”

Frowning, you look down to your camera to find that he’s telling the truth. “Oh.”

You take it off and pocket it. How did you not notice?

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s not important,” you politely dodge, flashing him a smile. Barry raises his brows and you get the feeling that he’s not easily discouraged. 

“This might come as a shock to you, but I was young once too,” Barry says. “So what is it? Boy trouble? Girl trouble?”

The apparent gay-rights ally Barry stands stoic, brow quirked and hands stuffed in his overall pockets, as he waits for your reply. You’re a little alarmed how easy he had your number down. 

“Boy trouble, I guess,” you sigh. Shaking your head, you renew your smile. “It’s really not a big deal though. Let’s get these shots done before we lose the light, huh?”

To distract your busy mind from thoughts of JJ, you had gone to Barry’s to fulfil your offer of completing promo shots for his website. He was more than happy to indulge. He even went to the effort of putting on a fresh pair of overalls. 

“Is this that Maybank kid?”

Okay, can this guy read your mind or something? The bewildered look on your face must be answer enough as Barry lets out a raspy laugh. His voice sounds like he’s been gurgling gas and inhaling smog for most of his years on earth. It’s weirdly comforting, like the smell of warm, fresh sawdust. 

“Come on, kid,” he says, wandering over to one of the plastic lawn chairs that sits outside his garage. “Indulge me.”

For some reason, you do. You take the seat next to him, your camera turned off and placed in your lap. 

“We, uh, got in this dumb fight the other day,” you find yourself saying. “You see, we’ve been spending more and more time together and just getting closer, I guess you could say.”

“Close enough to leave space for Jesus?” Barry wonders. Your face burns hot red. 

“Me and you aren't good enough friends yet for you to get that kind of info, Barry,” you jokingly return, hoping your fluster doesn’t show. Barry bobs his head, your joshing response seemingly answer enough. 

“Like I said, I was young once too,” comes his coded reply. 

“Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “I started to get all twitchy about it ‘cause I didn’t know where we stood. And I’ve never been good at complicated. You see, I sorta dated this guy back when I lived in Canada and I guess you could say he did a number on me.”

“He mess ya around?”

“To put it nicely, yeah,” you say, smiling smally. “So I’m not very good at opening up to new possibilities and stuff. It doesn’t help that JJ’s so hard to read, either. He’s the kinda guy who says one thing but does another. And I know people tend to see what they want to see, but I swear to God, sometimes I catch him looking at me in a way that makes me think that maybe there’s something more there.”

“Would that be so bad if there was?” Barry wonders, slouching back in his chair. 

Frowning, you look at him. His question passes in and out of your mind as realisation dawns upon you. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”

“I’m easy to talk to, kid," Barry shrugs. "My wife always said I was given God’s gifted ears: always good to listen but never much to talk."

You laugh softly.

“Yeah, she always came through with the good-enough advice for the both of us.”

Pursing your lips, you ponder his earlier question. You can’t seem to settle on an answer. “I’m not sure if it would be a bad thing. I guess I’m just scared that whatever the answer is, things might change. I don’t know if I want them to. I like how we are now.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Barry observes. 

Chuckling, you nod. “Yeah. Guess I can’t win, eh?”

Looking down, you fiddle with the buttons and dials on your camera. Barry’s quiet for a while and you can practically hear his rusty cogs turning in his mind. 

“You met that kid’s dad yet?” he asks, out of the blue. 

“Who? JJ’s? No, I haven’t met him yet,” you say. “I’ve heard a bit about him though.”

“He’s a troubled guy,” Barry sighs. Shaking his head, he says, “I was friends with him a while back but some people just wanna drown, and sometimes you gotta swim away before you get taken down with ‘em. But that poor kid: he got stuck with two shabby parents. His mama up and left, and before that she was a lying, cheatin’ son of a bitch - not to speak too out of turn. His papa probably has a closer relationship with a bottle than with the kid.”

You think back to the other night, sat in JJ’s house, surrounded by trash and tumult. JJ’s own drinking and smoking habits were easy to catch onto. It worried you plenty but it felt wrong to lecture. He omitted his parents from most stories and anecdotes but you suppose you didn't notice all that much as you had a habit of doing the same.

“I say all this ‘cause I think you gotta understand something. That poor son of a bitch didn’t have the best example of what love was growing up,” Barry says with a sad shrug. “Sometimes that means you don’t always know it when you see it. So, maybe he don’t know how to tell you ‘cause he don’t know what it is.”

You sigh and look out to the desolate road that sits outside his garage. “Y’know, JJ told me about your wife and daughter. I’m really sorry.”

Barry goes quiet but the air doesn’t feel tense. You take it as space to continue. 

“Your daughter was really pretty. I saw her in that photo in your shop.”

“She were an angel. God just needed her back home,” Barry quietly returns.

Looking to him, you smile, small and sympathetic.

Grunting, Barry leans forward. “Look, I’ve known JJ since he was yea-high,” he says, gesturing with his hand to the height of a small child. “He’s got a good heart but a short fuse. He runs.”

“That maybe explains why I haven’t heard from him since our fight,” you mumble. Barry’s smile feels like confirmation. 

“But I tell you one thing that I do know. Just like my little angel: that kid is loyal to the bone. If he cares for someone, he sinks his darn talons in and don’t let go - no matter what. Even his dear old pops he’ll defend to the end of the earth if someone dare say a bad word ‘bout him, despite all the beating and berating.” 

Your brows knit with that and your heart lurches. 

“So, if you come a’callin’ then he’ll come a’runnin’, I’ll tell you that now,” Barry assures you. “You just gotta know what you’re callin’ for.”

Nodding, you take in his advice. It helps ease the anxious insomnia that has been eating away at you these past few days. You start to feel as though a path is being carved out for you, fresh and foreign, different to the one you tread with Tyler. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask Barry. 

His eyes hold the weight of the worlds within them as he smiles kindly at you. “Cause you remind me of my daughter. I like to think that if she had lived to be your age, she’d have been just like you.”

That mark of high praise etches itself into your brain. You wear it like a badge of honour the way a wartime soldier might with his medals, and sit in quiet disbelief that someone would say something so generous to you. 

After Barry’s well-guided advice, you get back to the photoshoot. You feel as though you saw him different through the camera lens after that. Every wrinkle on his forehead formed a map of his life: of hours spent at gravesites; of restless nights, alone in his house; of hard work at the garage, fixing and pimping out cars and trucks. Whilst some might say Barry wasn’t book-smart, he didn’t need to be. He was smart in the things that mattered. People and problems. With that intelligence, you find that as you walk back into your house, things feel less cluttered in your mind. It’s like he gave you the boxes to help organise all the thoughts you’d accumulated about JJ. 

As you approach your bedroom door, that content smile that had stitched itself to your skin the whole journey home fades as you find it closed. You distinctly remember leaving it open. Slowly cracking it open, your mouth drops with your bag when your eyes land on the person sat on your bed. 

“Mimsy?”

read part eleven here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[lilislegacy]

Firefighter Percy! - Telling his mom

What if Percy wanted to become a firefighter? How would Sally Jackson react?

~3 to 4 minute read (short)

21 year old Percy Jackson sat at his old kitchen table in his parents’ New York City Apartment. Next to him was Annabeth, his girlfriend of almost 6 years. On the other side of the table sat his mother, Sally, his step-dad, Paul, and his 4 year old sister, Estelle, who was coloring.

Percy was nervous. He had something to tell his mom, and he had no idea how she was going to react. Annabeth told him it would be okay, but he truly just had no idea what to expect.

They’d gotten through dinner and were now talking and catching up. He loved his visits to New York. Him and Annabeth had considered moving back, now that they’re almost done with New Rome University, but they decided that they are going to get a place in New Rome. That is, assuming his mom doesn’t kill him tonight.

“Percy, you’ve been quiet tonight.” Sally glanced at him with concerned eyes. He hated how easily she and annabeth could read him. How do people do that?

He took a deep breath and sipped his soda. “Uh, yeah. I have something to tell you.” He felt Annabeth squeeze his hand from under the table.

Paul and Sally looked at him expectantly. Estelle continued to scribble in her coloring book, having no interest whatsoever in the conversation.

He glanced at Annabeth, and she gave him an encouraging nod. He took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes. I want to be a firefighter. I’m going to be a firefighter. Not forever. Just while I’m figuring out what I want to do with my life.” He looked her in the eyes. “I just- I can really help! I’m fire resistant. I can control water, so I can help put out fires more quickly. I’m tall and athletic. I’m really fast. I’m strong, too. And I think quick on my feet in dangerous situations. I’m perfect for the job, especially given my powers. I can really do good by this. And I- well- what do you think?” He looked at her with uncertainty.

Sally stared at him blankly, for what felt like several minutes, but was probably just a few seconds. Paul didn’t say anything either. He usually did this: waited to react until Sally did so first. When it came to Percy, he always followed her lead as his parent.

When his mom finally spoke, his stomach dropped at tone of her voice. If sounded like pain. No… worse. It was betrayal.

“You want to run into burning buildings? On purpose? Not becasue you’re forced to for a quest, but becasue you want to? You want to risk your life on a daily basis? You’ve survived all that you have and- are you trying to get yourself killed?”

His heart broke at the wounded look she was giving him. “I- No! No mom. I want to help people. I want to use my abilities for something good. And like I said, I can’t really be burned. I’m way safer than-

“I don’t care that you can’t be burned, Percy! You could die from smoke inhalation! Or toxic gasses! Things explode. Buildings collapse. I watched from right down the street as hundreds of firefighters ran into the towers and never came out. Firefights die! You could die, Percy!”

Percy felt sick. His heart raced. He couldn’t even look at his mom’s face. He all of a sudden felt guilt beyond belief. After all he’s been through - after all he’s put her through - he felt terrible about even considering it. How could he put her through any more than he already has?

The room was tense. Everybody was unsettled. And it was completely his fault.

“I won’t do it. I- I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll call them tomorrow and tell-

“Oh be quiet.” Sally dismissed him. She seemed to be at war with her own emotions. “I said I didn’t like it, I didn’t say you shouldn’t do it.”

Percy was now confused. A feeling he was very familiar with, being the boyfriend of a daughter of Athena.

Sally looked at him, carefully considering her next words. “Is this something you really want to do?”

Percy looked his mom in the eyes, channeling every bit of sincerity and determination that he had. “Yes. I really think I need to do this, Mom.”

Sally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She took a minute to compose herself, and seemed to be willing her mindset to change. He’d seen it before - when he had asked her for her blessing to bare the curse of achilles, all those years ago.

She let out a sound that was something between an exasperated sigh and a laugh. She shook her head in a way that said I should have expected nothing less from you.

“Well okay.” She said with a new - slightly forced - confidence and optimism. She reached across the table and took his hand, looking at him with a mix of emotions: uncertainty, fear, love, and tremendous pride. “You’ll be a firefighter, then.”

He squeezed her hand, and she gave him a small watery smile.

“I better get lots of pictures of you looking all handsome in your uniform.”

Annabeth laughed. “I’m already on it.”

Percy felt relief flood through him. Usually he would roll his eyes at that exchange, but he was so happy that he found himself smiling.

Paul chuckled and lifted his glass. “To Percy, and to his safety as he begins this new adventure.”

Everyone raised their glasses.

Estelle finally looked up from her coloring book and gave percy a very serious look. “Are you gonna get a polka-dot doggy?”

[dandylovesturtles]

I come bearing a little Sidelined AU propaganda for the @tmntaucompetition ! Featuring a guest appearance by @intotheelliwoods Poptart and Sprout.

———

“Whooooooaaaaaaa!”

Leo can’t help but echo his brothers’ amazement as they enter the stadium. There are so many turtles here (and others, too!) - so many different versions of themselves, some familiar and others radically different.

It’s ridiculously cool.

“I knew it!” cheers Donnie behind him. “I knew I was right about multiverse theory! Oh, this has so many fascinating implications for physics! You guys know how…”

Leo tunes out Donnie’s ramble (he can’t understand any of it anyway) to focus on the turtles in front of him. It’s easy to pick out the other Leos in the crowd (their color coding seems to be one of the few constants between them), but he’s quickly noticing he’s an outlier in one very big way.

“Hey guys,” he says, interrupting Donnie, “am I the only Leo rockin’ wheelies?”

“Statistically unlikely,” says Donnie, coming to stand next to him. “Given infinite possibilities, there are definitely other worlds where you use a wheelchair, and myself and Raph and Mikey as well.” Donnie pulls down his goggles, scans the crowd, and then says, “But you’re right that you may be the only one in the building.”

“I wonder what the difference is between our timeline and everyone else’s?” asks Mikey.

“I dunno!” Leo’s eyes scan the crowd. “Let’s ask.”

He catches sight of another Leo nearby, this one missing an arm. He also seems to be in the company of a grandpa Leo, and Leo has no idea how to handle the implications of that one so he decides not to think about it too hard.

“Hey!” he calls out, wheeling himself up, careful not to catch anyone’s feet on his way. “Leo! …Oh, that’s so weird.”

The other Leo turns, doing the momentary skip with his eyes when Leo isn’t at the height he was expecting. Leo’s used to that by now. The one-armed Leo retrains his eyes, grinning and holding up a hand in greeting.

“Well there’s a handsome face,” he says.

“Takes one to know one,” replies Leo enthusiastically.

“Oh no, this is going to be the whole competition, isn’t it?” he hears Donnie say behind him. He rolls his chair back into his brother’s shin and takes satisfaction in the yelp he hears after.

“Quick question. Did Draxum and the Foot Clan put together the Dark Armor in your timeline?”

“Huh? Oh!” The other Leo laughs. “Yeah! That feels like forever ago.”

“And he didn’t put you in it?”

“Uh, no.” The other Leo shrugs. “He put himself in it. Is that what happened to, uh…” He gestures vaguely at Leo, who nods.

“Oh yeah. What about you?” Leo eyes his empty shoulder. “Was that from the Shredder?”

“Nope!” The other Leo waves that off. “This was from the Krang!”

“Oh,” says Leo. (Behind him, he hears Mikey whisper, “What’s a Krang?”) “Okay, thanks. We’re just trying to figure out where our timeline went different.” He grins. “Nice compression sleeve, by the way.”

“Thanks!” The other Leo grins back. “Nice wheelchair!”

The other Leo and the big Leo tailing him move on. Leo swivels his chair so he can look back at his brothers.

“Okay, so we know the difference,” he says. “In most other timelines, Draxum is an idiot.”

“He’s an idiot in our timeline,” says Raph, “but I see your point.”

“Cool!” says Mikey. “Mystery solved!”

“Now hold on!” Donnie dashes to stand in front of them, arms held out. “Gentlemen, you can’t really mean to take a single data point and form a conclusion based on that!” He pulls up the screen of his bracer, typing frantically. “We need to gather data from every group here, and then we need to run cross-references to find all the commonalities, and then-“

Leo looks at Raph and Mikey. “Nachos?” he suggests.

“Nachos!” they both cheer.

He starts making his way through the crowd, Mikey and Raph helping him navigate, leaving Donnie to catch up.

“Really!? That’s it!? Don’t you have any interest in the mysteries of the multiverse!? You’re abandoning it for nachos!? …Well okay, but no jalapeños on mine!”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That’s until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: My sweet pathetic man.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re silent as you walk next to Cole. He’s so much taller than you. The sun beats down and adds to the heat beneath your flesh. You fold your hands together as your eyes scan the fields and pollen tickles your nostrils. 

“So... you have a good week?” He asks, his voice crisp yet brittle. 

You nod, “mhm.” 

“Everything okay now?” 

“Uh...” you blink and shake your head. “I guess.” 

“Just that last time, you sort of... ran away from me. So if I did anything, I’d like to know so I can apologise,” he explains. 

“Oh no, you didn’t... do anything. It’s just me.”  

Another lull rises around you. You twine your fingers together and wring your hands until your knuckles hurt. He steps ahead of you as you approach the greenhouse. 

“It’s hot inside so if you need a break,” he says. “Let me know.” 

You nod and go through first as he waits. He follows and you look around at the tables full of long planters. Some are just sprouting, others are about to bloom, while others are overgrown. He points you along a row and you gratefully latch onto the distraction of the flowers. 

“You know, I was really looking forward to this,” he says. You glance at him in surprise. He grins and his blue eyes meet yours. “Really. I’m not just saying that. I don’t meet a lot of people very interested in all this. Or who know so much.” He turns and puts his hand on the table, “Maybe I forgot to say but your garden is beautiful. I can see all the care you put into it.” 

You look back to the pansies, “it’s Aunt Bev’s.” 

“Yeah, but she said you do all the work.” 

“She’s nice that way,” you shrug. 

“You’re too humble.”  

You shake your head and look closer at the petals. 

“You can touch. It won’t hurt them.” He says. 

“Oh, no, it’s...” you sniff. “Smells nice in here.” 

“Yeah,” he wipes his forehead, “but hot as hell.” 

“Ha, yeah,” you tug at the collar of your shirt. “A little.” 

“Well, you can look around as much as you like. And after, I’ll show you the loft.” 

You keep your eyes on the table, “the loft?” 

“Yeah, sure, it’s neat. You’ll like it,” he says. 

You continue to wander down as you admire all the different species and stems. Cole gives you your space. You’re thankful for that. Not just because it’s warm but because you’re not quite sure about all of this. He’s nice, his Aunt Jill too, but you’re just not used to all this. 

The longer you linger, the thicker the sheet of sweat that drenches your body. You feel it seeping into your clothing. You head back to the door and peer around. You don’t see him anywhere around.

Did he leave? Why would he do that? You don’t know where to go? You could get lost here! 

He pops up from behind a table, “oop, you all done?” He asks as he swipes back a shank of hair from his forehead. “I was just transferring some bulbs.” He bends and lifts a large planter up beside the others. The strength in that act further echoes your size difference once more. 

“Mhmm,” you confirm. “It must be a lot of work doing all this.” 

“I have help. Ma and Dad. They do what they can, you know? But I wish they wouldn’t. They deserve to enjoy their retirement.” He goes to the door and pushes it open. He holds it for you again. Outside, a breeze cools you. 

“Right,” you agree. 

“You know, if you got the time...” he begins then waves away his words. “Nah, you know what? I was just thinking out loud. Never mind.” 

“Wh-what?” You ask nervously. 

“Really, it’s nothing. I don’t wanna be too much. You know,” he hooks his fingers in his pockets and pushes his shoulders up. “I’ve been told I can be.” 

“Ah, er, right. Well... okay.” 

“Look, I should just ask,” he points you along, past the greenhouse. “I could use some help so you could maybe stop by and—I'd pay you. Obviously. It’s work. Is it like rude to offer you a job?” 

You stare at him. It’s unexpected but not really rude. It does make you feel lesser. You know it’s not his intent but you can put the puzzle together. He knows you don’t work, that Bev takes care of you, and a few extra bucks would be a help. Plus, it will get you out of the house. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he agrees eagerly. “Take as long as you like.” 

“Erm, thanks. It’s nice of you to... ask.”  

The wind rustles the green grass as you sink back into nervous tension. He guides you along to a barn and you near curiously. He steps ahead of you and slides open the large door. He turns back and smiles at you. 

“Come on,” he beckons you with his hand. As he enters, he shrugs out of his denim jacket. He hangs it on a peg. “How about you? You wanna put your sweater up?” 

“Oh, I guess,” you look down at the crochet; it’s itchy from the heat. You slip it off and hand it over. His fingers brush yours as he takes it and hangs it over his jacket. 

“Just up there,” he points to the ladder. 

“Oh? Okay,” you eye the rungs and rub your palms together. 

“Need any help?”  

“Um, no, I can...” your voice trails off and you reach for the ladder. 

You climb and your uncertainty ascends with you. What are you doing here? You’re suddenly afraid at the realisation that you’re all alone. That you don’t know how you could get out if you need to or if anyone would hear you cry out. 

No, this is Cole. You don’t have any reason to expect that. Aunt Bev says things are different now. Not all people are bad. Not like your mom. 

Cole follows you up. You stand and look around the loft. You see the dim shapes of furniture set across the wooden slats. 

He shuffles by you and opens the window, pushing the doors outward. The sunlight streams in and limns the space. There’s a day bed on a worn rug right in the center, a table to one wall with chair, a basket of apples on top, and a shelf of books.  

“Sometimes I just need a space of my own,” Cole says. “I thought, I don’t know, you might like it. You seem like the type to appreciate solace... you’re so quiet.” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“For what?” He blinks at you. His eyes catch the sun with a twinkle. His hair curls with the humid sheen on his skin.  

“For... being quiet.” 

“I don’t mind. I’m sorry for talking so much,” he grins. 

You nod and bite your lip. You look around and pace along the floor, each step creaking. You go to the shelf and browse the book spines. 

“Do you read a lot?” He asks. 

“Sometimes,” you answer. “More now...” More now that you don’t have to hide your books. 

“You got a favourite?” He comes up next to you. Close. Too close. You don’t want to embarrass him by stepping away. 

“I don’t know. I read... I read Murder on the Orient Express. It was interesting.” 

“Wow, that’s a good one,” he praises. “I’m kinda into anything. Don’t get much time to read but I take my moments.” 

“Mmm, yeah.” 

Again, silence. You look down. You don’t know what to do or say. You feel like you have to explain yourself. You’re making him uncomfortable. Your mother always told you how weird you are. 

“I--” 

“You--” 

You both try to speak at the same time. He gestures with his hand, “you first.” 

“I...” you breathe. “I only really hang out with my aunt so... so... so...” you start to panic. You’ve already said too much. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I spend all my time with plants and at the market. By the time I’m done selling, I’m too exhausted for friends,” he says. “So, no pressure. You never have to talk for no reason. It’s always quiet out here. It’s nice.” He stares at you a moment before he looks back at the shelf, “I’d say it suits you.” 

You exhale. You feel a little better but still on edge. You teeter on your feet. 

“Can we go back inside? I don’t want Aunt Bev to worry.” You utter. 

“Sure, of course,” he answers, “you’re gonna think about it? Working with me?” 

“Yeah, I’ll think.” You agree. 

He moves first. He goes the ladder and turns. He starts down as you approach. You follow as his boots hit the ground. You descend, rung by rung, but you can’t find the next as you get halfway. You slip and gasp, Cole echoing you. 

He catches you as you fall and flail. You let out a squeak as he holds you in his arms, hiking you up so you don’t drop. Your shoulder is crushed to his chest. He’s touching you. Your hair feels like it’s going to fall out of your head. 

“Um, sorry!” You squeak. 

“Don’t be. That was close,” he sounds breathless himself. “I’m just happy I caught you. You okay?” 

“Y-yeah...” you stutter. 

He stares at you and you gulp. You stare at the collar of his shirt. His throat bobs and you squirm. 

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles and sets you on your feet. “There ya go.” 

“Thanks,” you cling to his arm as you steady yourself. You let go and fold your arm against your chest, hugging it with your other. 

“Come on,” he says and puts his hand behind you, not touching you.  

You emerge from the barn back into the yellow daylight. There’s a steady hum of insects and the soft flow of wind. You follow the beaten path back to the house. He lets you up the steps first and you go inside. He’s right behind you as you enter. 

“Sweetie,” you aunt surprises you as she appears in the archway to your left. “There you are! Did you see all the pretty flowers?” 

“Mhmm,” you nod and give a tight-lipped smile. 

“Everything alright? You look flustered?” Jill nears from behind her. 

You keep nodding. Cole laughs softly, “she had a bit of a slip but she’s okay. Maybe a bit of the heat getting to her too.” 

“Oh yes, it’s so hot today,” Jill agrees, “honey, how about something to drink? Maybe one of those delicious muffins you made?” 

She comes to you and squeezes your arm. You flinch and pull away. You’re still tense from falling. Right into Cole’s arm. You swear you can smell him.  

“Mom,” he warns. 

She looks down at her hand and retracts it, “sweetie, I’m so sorry. I forget. I can be so touchy-feely.” She shows her palms. “I’m surprised Cole’s keeping his hands to himself. He’s the worst for it, you know?” 

“Ma,” he coughs again. 

“Oh, that sounds worse than it is,” she cackles. “No, what I mean is he’s just a hugger, you know? He’s always been one. And he does give the best hugs.” 

“Ma,” he says a third time. 

“Right, right,” she huffs, “so, how about some iced tea?” 

You look at her, then Aunt Bev. You’d hate to be rude and you are a bit thirsty. Especially after being out in the dry heat. 

“Yes, please, thank you,” you say. 

“Not at all, sweetie,” she smiles, “Cole, would you like some?” 

“Sure, ma,” he says, “thanks.” 

Jill preens and struts away. Aunt Bev comes closer, “I am so happy you two are getting along. Oh, Cole, thank you for showing her around.” 

“Not at all. You know, I don’t get to show off very often.” 

“Really? But this place is so pretty. Isn’t it, dear?” She asks. 

You blanch then nod vehemently. You just want to fade into the background. You’d hope with your aunt and Jill, it’d be easier to do that. 

“Oh, and your muffins are fabulous. You really should have one,” she insists. 

You try to smile but your cheeks pinch tightly. 

“You know, I might just do that,” Cole intones. “Can I get you one?” 

You shake your head. He lingers, waiting for an answer. You choke out your voice at last, “no, thanks.” 

“Right,” he accepts and turns away. 

You peek over at Aunt Bev as she smiles after him. She likes him. If she likes him, he can’t be very bad. She’s not always so happy either. Especially since you came around. More often, she’s worried. You don’t want to always be a problem for her. 

“Um, Aunt Beverly,” you say, “I... Cole said I could come help out. He’ll pay me.” 

Her brows rise and she turns to you, “oh, really? And you want to?” 

You stare at her. You don’t know that you want to but you know you should. 

“I’ll do it,” you say at last. “I like the flowers.”