#and how they were both abandoned and they found a kid who they thought had been abandoned and they took him in

[dirkxcaliborn]

scanlations are so funny

"hi I'm picking up this series!!! btw I'm TLing from thai bc I couldn't find the jp raws, oh and also I don't know thai or japanese ^_^ ok enjoy!!!!!!!!"

[immamapletreekid]

instead of grinding for finals i lost hours to a one piece wiki spiral

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[shaisuki]

SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ

𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦

FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER

content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.

synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.

“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”

that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.

he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.

“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.

“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.

you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.

everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.

your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.

he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.

he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.

“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.

michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.

he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.

“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.

sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.

“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.

the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.

building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.

all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.

a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.

“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”

sugar pills.

sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.

michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.

as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.

it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[harveybwabbit92]

Grocery girl: Ken Sato x reader Pt. 2

You were a delivery girl who was frequently dispatched to the famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon....

Part 1

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

It had been almost a month since that strange incident with Sato. R/n tried bury it in the back of her mind but it always seem to find it's way back to the surface, it also didn't help that he was the main topic on every news outlet or at every water cooler gossip R/n has accidentally eavesdropped on. Apparently things weren't going very well for Mr. Sato's career.

Heck, even Meimei seems to have lost her earlier admiration for the baseball player as the younger girl had stopped asking R/n about him and switched to swooning and gushing over some K-pop group she fell in love with to anyone that would listen; R/n included, but that's teenagers for you they loose interest in things too easily, not that Meimei's uncle AKA the Boss was complaining he was just happy the kid was taking her job seriously now! So was R/n cos that meant Meimei would stop following her around asking about Mr. Sato every time she got back from a delivery.

Speaking of...

R/n pulled into Mr. Sato's driveway it seemed like the usual drop off situation until R/n got out of the van and nearly dropped the box of groceries at the sight that waited for her outside, R/n had to take a minute for her brain register what she was looking at first.

She thought it was a dummy left outside, before realizing it was person passed out on the steps and not just any old person. "Mr. Sato!" R/n put the box down and ran over to the downed baseball player she rolled him over to get look at his face and winced. Cripes! he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back again!

R/n quickly tried to rouse the knocked out Sato by shaking him but that did little other making him mumble incoherently, R/n then through great struggle managed to lift him up off the stairs and was stunned at how heavy the baseball player was as his weight damn near sent them both tumbling backwards!

But R/n managed to steady them both as she pretty much dragged his limp body up the stairs. "This would be so easy for me if you'd just wake up." R/n grunted as she readjusted Ken so she could knock on his door; Hopefully his assistant was here and she could take care of him.

However when the front door opened on it's own there was no one there waiting. R/n stared nervously into the seemingly empty house, she heard nary a creak or breeze as she reluctantly took a step inside and tried not to yelp when the door suddenly shut behind her leaving the house in almost complete darkness.

Then the thoughts started creeping in and for brief moment R/n wondered if this was all possibly all a ruse and that Mr Sato was secret serial kill and that strange noises she heard last time was screams of his last victim...After all, who would suspect the famous baseball payer?!

But then R/n's more rational side reasoned how that ridiculous that was! if there was a killer on the loose there would've been some kind of news about it. R/n calmed herself down and dragged Mr. Sato to the first couch she found before getting his abandoned groceries from outside, R/n went against policy and opened them, grabbing a bottle of water and a Melon pan from it.

She left them on the coffee table for when he wakes up and was going to leave Mr. Sato for his assistant to find, But then R/n felt something off...did the floor just vibrate? Her brows furrowed as her eyes looked up at the ceiling and saw the boxy looking chandelier was swaying around; R/n shook her head. No, it wasn't her business... She got ready to leave, but then the thoughts about Mr. Sato possibly being a covert serial killer came back with a vengeance and she thought if he was hiding someone could that vibration them calling for help?

Checking to make sure Mr. Sato was still sleeping R/n cautiously crouched down low and pressed her ear to the floor only to jumped back with a gasp when she heard the same wailing from a month ago echoing from the floor below, R/n stood up and looked around the house for a way downstairs and found her only option was the large glass elevator cos of course the rich boy's got an elevator.... R/n stepped in and looked for a control button only for the elevator start moving on it own.

R/n tried to duck down in poor attempt to hide herself as it got closer to the bottom floor when it finally stopped and the delivery girl cautiously peeked out to see; well, she expected some kind of blood soaked torture room to be waiting for her, instead her eyes widened in awe at her futuristic surroundings if this was a basement it was like one she'd never seen before! The thoughts about Mr. Sato being a serial killer were quickly replaced with him possibly being a superhero fanboy.

This whole place screamed 'Batcave' as R/n stepped out of the elevator and began to wander around she wondered how much this place cost the baseball player to build? While R/n was gawking she failed to notice the large shadow slowly rising up behind her until it was too late.

R/n looked down and slowly turned around looking up as did her awe struck face slowly contorting into fear as she stared up at the beast behind her and shuddered.

"I never knew the harbinger of death would be so... pink!" 

*hours later*

Ken is woken up to by the baby squealing and his alarms going off like crazy! He looked at the time 11 pm...Oh, he missed her 9pm feeding, he wondered Mina didn't wake him up? when he spotted the water and Melon pan on the coffee table and ate and drank those as he made his way to the elevator but it was already downstairs causing him to pause.

Ken's mind was still hazy from juggling everything he couldn't remember if he'd gone downstairs earlier and went outside through the airlock to get back up into the house? Or maybe Mina brought something downstairs for the baby to use?

The answer was the last thing Ken expected as he descended into his base to find the baby playing Daruma-san (statues/red light green light for us yanks) with Mina and...Ken choked on his food when he saw his grocery girl standing in the middle of his base in posed like Hamlet (she holding Mina in the Alas poor Yorick pose) She nearly fell over when she saw Mr. Sato gawking. "What the heck is going-Oh, nonono!" When then the baby noticed him and she immediately run up to Ken and picked him up much to his protest.

While this was going on R/n used this as her attempt to escape to the elevator only for Ken to notice her sneaking away and changed into Ultraman and block her path with his hand... R/n gasped as she looked up at the silver giant completely flabbergasted. "Okay, So not a serial killer." Now it was Ultraman's turn to be confused. "What?"

Cut to R/n trapped in her own containment chamber sitting down bored as she watches a frustrated Mr. Sato pacing around his base. "Y'know, You'll go bald if you keep tugging at your hair like that" she said with a sigh the baseball player ignored her as the delivery girl tried to readjusted herself in a more comfortable position but the tube was to narrow for her legs to properly stretch out. "Couldn't you have given me a bigger tube? this one's too cramped." Mr. Sato shot her a seething glare that shut R/n up as he walked up to her tube.

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe you should've called ahead before breaking into my house!" He sneered The delivery just rolled her eyes. "For that last time, I didn't break in I found you outside..." Ken snorted obviously not believing her. "Hey you, floating eye lady" R/n called out to Mina who floated over to them. "Doesn't this place have cameras or something" Show this knuckle head I'm telling the truth." She said crossing her arms, while Ken barked a Mina not to listen her and wait for the cops, who were taking their sweet time getting here.

"The police are not coming because I haven't called them." Ken looked at the orb in disbelief. "What? why not?!" Mina played the footage from a few hours ago showing Ken staggering up his front steps and then dropping like a sack of potatoes 15 minutes later R/n's van pulled up showed her jumping and quickly checking Ken over before picking him carrying him inside, and showed how she got into his base.

"Told ya, if this is the thanks I get for helping; then maybe I should've left you there for the birds to crap on!"

"Okay, okay... but that still doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"Oh? what are you gonna do? keep me in this tube forever?"

"No, You going to help me...With her."

Mr. Sato points at the baby Kaiju in the tube next to R/n's who babble happily and waved when he pointed at her, R/n meanwhile got this shell shocked look on her face, she thought he was joking until R/n was free from the tube; but by the next morning found herself in a moving van with her belongs hastily stuffed inside headed back towards Mr. Sato's house.

{Bonus, how R/n ended up playing with Emi: 

R/n tried to back away from the pink dragon thing that was staring her down when it took a step near her, She gasped and instinctively covered her face...But, nothing happened? The delivery girl curiously peeked between her fingers and saw Pinky was staring at her; she put her hands down.

The monster moves again R/n throws her hands back up and the monster did the oddest thing it smiled while chirping and clapping at her. R/n was very obviously bewildered by it's strange behavior as she repeated same action a few times before something clicked in her head; Peek-a-Boo.... It's thinks R/n was playing Peek-a-boo with it . "You're just a baby, aren't you?" The Kaiju tilted it's head at R/n bemused.

*Ken Sato has a baby Kaiju in his basement...what the crap?!*

The delivery girl screamed mentally as the baby Kaju chirped and covered it's face with it's hands; R/n knew what it was doing and played along "Oh no, where'd the baby go?" The delivery girl pretended to look around while side eyeing the elevator which the baby was currently blocking, The kaiju pulled it's hands away from it's face as R/n cheered "Oop, there you are!~" the baby squealed excitedly as this floating eye-ball robot suddenly appeared and started asking questions.

R/n explained herself and promised that she wouldn't tell anyone about this if the eye would let her leave. However, as soon as R/n took a step towards the elevator... The baby started sniffling and tearing up causing the delivery girl to panic. "No, no, I'm not leaving I'm not leaving, I promise, I'll stay here!" R/n said petting it on the leg and not realizing just how true those words would end up being in a few hours.

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

Cross posted on my A03/Squidgeworld/Wattpad.

[aphroditesmoon]

Heyy I love your Clarisse work!!! Can I get a Clarisse being protective over fem reader when Percy Jackson arrives and he tries to talk to us? Thank you!!!!

back to you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: ep2 spoilers, protective clarisse, kissing.

a/n: thank you for reading n enjoying my clarisse fic! I hope this is to ur liking<3

wc: 1.7k

---

The new kid was lost. That much was easy to tell. He had been clamied as Poseidon's son, and yet no one had the thought of actually directing him to his new cabin.

You've been watching him from the corner of your eyes as you help fix your cabin siblings' stance for a spar. He's been walking back and forth in circles like an abandoned kitten. It was honestly amusing to watch.

It was about 2 minutes later when you hear his footsteps nearing you and turned ariund to meet the boy's face. "Hey." He greeted breathily like he's been running a marathon.

"Fish boy." You responded, making him frown. "Um, I'm actually- never mind, I was wondering if you uh, know where the Poseidon cabin is?" You cross your arms and studied the confusion on his face. "Did Chiron not show you?"

"He did, I just, forgot?" Of course he did. "I'll show you, come on." You walk past him to where his cabin is at, the whole map of this camp is engraved in your mind.

"It's really not that far." You tell him as you kept moving. You had to slow down a bit when you remember he's carrying his bags with him.

Percy Jackson looks less threatening to you now than he did before. It's almosf hard to believe that this is the same kid who destroyed a minotaur and broke Clarisse's spear. He was just a boy, and not even a mean or bratty one.

How is it that Mr. D and Chiron both founded it totally fine to let this 12 year old boy live in an empty cabin alone is beyond you, but that's not your problem to think about.

He's quicker on his feet than you expected and asked questions less stupid that others have.

"There shouldn't be a curfew if I'm the only one here, right?" He ask as he drops his bag on the floor by the bed. You watch him from the door, leaning against the frame. "I mean, technically, I'm head of the cabin."

Your brows raised at that. "I don't think that's how it works."

"The curfew is probably the same as any other cabin's curfew, though like you said, it's not like there's anyone else to tell you when to go to bed here." He gets the implication you're making. You weren't going to tell him that he could go around and do as he likes, but he could actually do it if he wanted to. There's not much supervision here.

You turn on the lights from where you're at, the switch button being on the wall by the entrance. The walls of the place were blue and white, it seems more well kept than the other cabins. How disappointing that he wouldn't have anyone to share the space with.

Percy had stood up from his bed to walk over to you to say his thanks when the both of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. He flinched at Clarisse's presence. But you, as surprised as you are, is used to her sneaking up from behind.

"What does this punk want with you?" She questions boldly. You spin around to find her a few steps away from you. Percy physically shivered, walking deeper into the cabin. "I was just asking her for directions." He explained before you could.

She's looking him up and down like predators do to their preys with a demonic glare in her eyes. It's been less than 12 hours since he broke her spear. And losing dessert privileges and her spear wasn't exactly a recipe to making Clarisse happy.

You pat her shoulder with your hand, in which she quickly shrugged off as she steps closer to the cabin, standing next to you and eyeing Percy suspiciously. "You expect me to believe that no one else has shown you the direction here."

"I forgot." He spoke at the same time as you told her, "Clarisse, he forgot."

“Forgot?” Clarisse turns her gaze from him to you and then back to him with a frown. "Well, you've already led him here, haven't you?" You gave her a look that says 'can you not?' She easily ignores your meaning of course, glaring at the boy again.

"Yes, I have. So I'll go now, come on Clarisse." You announced loudly, pulling your girlfriend by her arm to leave Percy alone.

She remains unmoving at first, sizing up Percy, until you tugged at her arm again, calling out her name. “Clarisse, please. Let's just go back to training.” Finally giving in, she lets you drag ger away from the blonde boy. You could almost hear the sigh of relief leave his body.

"Thanks for the help-" you hear the fish boy shout from behind hesitantly.

"Absolute brat." Clarisse mutters under his breath once the two of you are away from him. "He was just asking for help." You felt the need to defend him.

She put her right arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her as she scoff at your words. "Great, you're already siding with him after what he's done to me. Really? Are we forgetting that he broke my spear?"

You did chase him around with it like a lunatic, you thought of telling her. But you knew better than to upset her even more.

"I'm always on your side, you know that." You replied gently instead, letting your own arm wrap around her waist as the two of you make it back to the training grounds.

"Good, you're the only one I want on my team, so that better be the last time I see you around him" You smiled at that and leaned closer to her face to place a peck on her cheeks before other people could see you two coming over. "Yes, ma'am." You teased her.

She pulls your face back to hers before you could fullt pull away and kisses you harder, cupping your cheek with her free hand, uncaring of anyone's eyes on you.

[heart2beom]

cliché

pairing: bsf!yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crack, little angst

synopsis: after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.

or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.

warning: mature language, reader is assumed to be fem

notes: honestly, i always try to cut down the word count to make it more available for people who only read drabbles/blurbs but i just CANT. so here's another short oneshot T-T and as always, reblog to help the algorithm pick up on this :D

yeonjun was confused walking back home -- no, the whole day, he was disturbed. the reason for this was yesterday...when he went to get drinks for both you and him at a frat party.

the crowds were insanely hard to get through (and it didn't help that people kept on stopping him to 'catch up' or whatnot) so it took him more than fifty minutes to come back with the drinks he promised to get.

but it looked like it was too late because the people you were surrounding yourself with when yeonjun was there...disappeared. instead, you're bundled up, alone in a corner, with a guy he does not know. which was already weird because yeonjun knew everybody, and that was enough reason for him to hurry his ass up through sweaty frat drunks and make sure the unknown guy isn't some sleazeball.

that time he wasn't aware that he rolled his eyes but he did conciously plan to squeeze himself into the conversation...and technically cockblock.

but when he neared you...that's when his world shattered...on more dramatic terms. it was more like his confidence was shot down to the deepest depths of hell.

"oh, yeonjun? pfft, he's like a brother!"

even though it was almost barely audible due to the blasting music, 'brother' to his ears were magnified -- the word circling through his head.

brother. brother?!

and as a result of this baffling situation, he had backed himself in an opposing corner with your cup in his right and his cup in his left, way further than you now, thinking of where did it go wrong?

he's never had someone friend-zone him -- for heavensake, he's yeonjun, he's aware of how attractive he is. but brother-zone? that was even worse of an attack!

it doesn't matter that you said it -- come on, that's barely the case. it's the fact that someone was so unattracted to him that he was seen as a sibling.

sure, you and yeonjun were a sort of bunch that have been together since... forever, really. seriously, you were friends since elementary -- when you joined the school, fourth grade, mindlessly kicking rocks at recess he approached you like the social butterfly kid that he was, asking you if you wanted to come play with his friends.

once he took another sip of the red cup in his right hand, the fruity punch being way too overbearing (just how'd you like it), he furrowed his brows together.

he definitely doesn't see you as a sister.

he'd have to admit that when middle school hit and his puberty was acting up around ...the seventh grade? he was convinced that he would eventually marry you like the way his parents were. a brother wouldn't have felt that way about his sister! normally that is...

granted, he mostly blamed that on the first strikes of puberty because right after middle school, he moved on from the thought -- completely abandoning his pre-puberty dreams, but that was besides the point!

he was getting nauseous from the sweetness of his drink and the further he thought about the way you thought of him, he felt that he would ruin the party by vomiting on someone.

his night was officially ruined. absolutely, fundementally, literally ruined.

and thats how he found himself unfocused on everything around him the next day, finally making the decision to consult with his roommates about this frankly, very big conundrum.

"you can't just purposefully leave out important details? like, how am i supposed to diagnose you properly bro?" beomgyu asked as he spammed the keys on his controller.

"you're not diagnosing me--" yeonjun exhaled, wanting to to keep the banter to the minimum in respect to the issue he's facing. "literally what do you think we're doing right now?"

"i'm going to be completely honest and say ...i have no idea-- shit, what the fuck are you doing heeseung? jump! jump!" he yelled towards the big screen in front of him.

yeonjun groaned, turning his head to behind the couch. "soobin, it's not too late to help out your only friend!" he yelled out in hopes of it reaching the guy's bedroom.

and with no response, he turned back to watching the game beomgyu was playing. "god, you know how many times i gave that guy life changing advice on women?"

"and this is how he repays me?"

beomgyu nodded along to whatever yeonjun was mumbling about until the brunette magically connected dots and euphoric realization hit him. beomgyu almost scrambled around to completely face him this time, "hold on, hold on. yeonjun you lost me, are you having girl problems?"

to that, yeonjun rolled his eyes. "i wouldn't call it 'girl problems', that sounds like a problem soobin would have."

"uh-huh ...uh-huh. no, no yeah." beomgyu said nodding mindlessly to save the guy some face. "heeseung i'm logging off dude, yeonjuns got girl problems."

yeonjun just deadpanned to the back of the guys head, having no will to correct him.

he wanted to get the pending issue out of the way first.

it was more situated a few minutes later. instead of beomgyu sitting on the floor criss crossed, leaned on the couch yeonjun was sitting on, beomgyu was now sitting on the chair next to the couch, his elbows on his knees, brows deeply furrowed.

and not to forget yeonjun's pen and paper in hand.

"so... you're trying to get a girl to like you?"

"not like. i want her to see me as someone she would want as a boyfrie--" when he saw beomgyus brow raising up as to say 'whats the difference' he cleared his throat. "yea, basically."

"don't you know how to do that though?"

he shrugged, "it's different this time."

"how?"

"trust me, it's very different."

"okay but how?"

"you'd be the last person i'd ask for an interrogation beomgyu, that'd be a task for like... taehyun or something."

"i'm sorry that i need to understand my client first--"

"i am not your client" yeonjun said, rolling his eyes.

"what's going on here?", yeonjun turned his head to see soobin behind the kitchen island, scooping himself some icecream.

"dude, where were you when i needed you?", yeonjun asked.

"me and yj are holding a dating therapy session."

yeonjun turned his head to beomgyu, "again, it's not a therapy sessio--"

"you're getting dating advice from beomgyu?" soobin asked, his face scrunched up doubting if it really got this bad.

and back to soobin. "when you say it like that.." "soobin can you please leave yeonjun alone? he's in a very vulnerable state right now"

then beomgyu again. "i'm seriously going to beat you up." he said, biting his bottom lip and raising his fist against his roommate. beomgyu immediately jumps dramatically, shielding himself with his arms up.

"see? he's getting violent!"

soobin finally plopped on the couch next to yeonjun with his cup of icecream. "explain it to me, maybe i can help you out."

"i'll save you the trouble, he's not explaining for whatever reason--"

"a girl said that i'm like a brother to her." yeonjun reluctantly mumbled.

a wave of silence hit the dorm, for a minute yeonjun thought they just didn't hear him and to be completely honest, he was about to thank the gods because he regretted saying anything the moment he did, but that thought was immediately shot down when both sides of his ears were being blasted by humiliating laughter.

soobin got up, patting yeonjun's shoulder as reassurance, still laughing. "yeah, good luck with that hyung."

"okay, it's not even that bad--"

"dude, not even cha eunwoo would survive the sibling zone." beomgyu said, a hard reality check for yeonjun. "though hyunbin might.." he mumbled to himself. yeonjun caught it though, but it didn't matter. yeonjun was no hyunbin.

"fuck." he breathed out, the utensils he was holding had lesser grip on them as he just stared into nothingness. beomgyu was right. he's forever stuck as a brother in your eyes.

but then a ring of his phone snaps him out of it.

when he checks the id, his ambition is restored almost immediately for whatever reason; it was you.

"yo why are you smiling?", beomgyu said trying to peep at yeonjun's phone, but yeonjun reflexes took over, and he immediately turned his phone off.

"beomgyu, don't you think i kind of resemble hyunbin?" he said with a head tilt and an overconfident smirk, talking like he just had an epiphany.

"the one from crash landing on you? uh no."

yeonjun jumped from the couch a new man, his pen and paper in one hand and his ringing phone on the other. he finally faced beomgyu as the man he was, choi motherfucking yeonjun. "i gotta answer this call...and also, if you ask anybody who my celebrity doppelganger is, everyone would proudly say its hyunbin dumbass."

then yeonjun left with a smile and a surge of new confidence overtaking his face as he spoke away on the phone with you, while beomgyu was left in the living room more than confused as he looked up the actor on his phone.

instead of finding the difference, beomgyus brain was tasking him into finding the similarities...which, there was one to yeonjun's credit.

black hair.

"when are the others coming?" you asked looking around the crowded floor as yeonjun was buying popcorn and drinks. "the movies about to start.." you mumbled, checking your phone for the hundredth time.

"oh, i guess its just me and you again." he said with the popcorn and bottle of coke finally in his arms.

"again? don't you think this is getting suspicious?" you said as you walked alongside yeonjun, not noticing the way yeonjun just gulped.

you stopped in your tracks, in turn yeonjun bumping into your back a little, a few popcorns dropping on the floor.

"hey...you don't think.." you furrowed your brows, in deep thought. this has been on your mind for a while now. "you don't think they're trying to set us up or something do you?"

after the third time your friends stood you and yeonjun up, you were starting to think they were pushing, what they called, the 'ynjun' agenda..but it was the first time you'd ever bring it up to yeonjun, so you just laughed it off -- scolding your friends will come on a later date.

"nevermind, lets go inside the movie theatre jun."

"ya' y/n, wait."

you turned around to an awkward standing yeonjun at first, but he immediately straightens up and clears his throat, with a smile you've grown so attached to -- the smile that reached his eyes. for something so simple, it made your heart beat a little quicker than normal.

"can you hold the coke for a sec? i'm trynna--i'm trynna do something."

you break into a light laugh, "um, okay." that snapped you out of it because you remember who he was again -- your platonic best friend.

you took the cola bottle off his right arm, expecting him to take his phone out of his pocket to check something.

but as you stared at your sneakers, checking if they're untied, you felt his hand on top of your head, which startled you.

you looked up to meet yeonjuns eyes, a brow raised.

before you could say anything, he ruffled the top of your hair gently, leaning towards you a bit, to shorten the height difference.

"y/n, let this be our first date." your platonic best friend's voice, so warm and gentle you thought you would only hear in dreams, said those words...to you.

"so you asked her out on a date but you don't even like her...? that doesn't make any sense." soobin said, sitting on the couch watching beomgyu hog up the tv screen, his use time running out.

"bros an asshole..but i feel like we knew that already-- fuck you heeseung. you fucking suck ass you need to get off my team." beomgyu yelled.

"okay, first of all, it's not that bad. she doesn't like me at all, plus the date was how we would usually hung out anyway."

soobin just shook his head -- being the only guy with a functioning moral compass amongst the people he called his friends was exhausting.

as soon as he was about to lecture yeonjun, the tv timer goes off -- and that makes his plan a fleeting thought.

"it's my turn now, throw me the remote."

"bro give me a second, let me finish this gam--"

"no! unplug your console." soobin yelled impatiently, he knew better than to let beomgyu go over the timer again.

beomgyu groaned, abandoning heeseung in the game and unplugging his console. when soobin got control of the tv and opened up netflix, beomgyu stood up to sit next to yeonjun -- who had gotten a notification from you.

"yj, who's the chick? you never told us."

"uh, you don't really know her." he mindlessly answered, focused on the messages from you.

[y/n, 9:16 pm] that serenade ..as cringe as it was.. [y/n, 9:16 pm] like lets be serious, there was NO reason for u to get on top of the cafeteria table lol

he hadn't yet told his roommates what he did this morning, thinking that he'd get a longer lecture by soobin.

but he had took inspiration from the movie you guys were watching the other night at the cinema. you talked his ear off about how romantic it was, how you would fall at the feet of dicaprio if he did the same to you..

he was no dicaprio, but he could try is what he thought. and though you forced him to get down half way through, he could still enjoy sharing the laughter, your laughter, that was ringing in his ear.

[yeonjun, 9:17 pm] as cringe as it was...? you're in love w me ;)

he typed it as a joke, a smile tugging on his lips waiting for your reaction to his teasing.

but beomgyu hovered over his phone out of boredom again, and out of instinct yeonjun threw his phone -- the three chois looking at the phone on the floor in shock.

"bro, why are you being so secretive? were you sexting?" beomgyu yelled, accusatory.

"can we collectively have some decency in this house, jesus fucking christ beomgyu." soobin muttered.

"shut up church boy, yeonjun's hiding something for sure."

"or maybe he just wanted some privacy dude?" soobin retaliated.

yeonjun jumped up pointing at soobin, "exactly! exactly! listen to soobin, you were invading my personal space. so not cool beomgyu."

"yeah, okay. you've never agreed with me with this much enthusiasm before. he's hiding something. quick, check his phone." to soobins order, beomgyu was prepared to run to the phone when he made eye contact with the owner -- but yeonjun was quick.

"good god, wait wait. what do you want beomgyu--fuck, if you wanted her name it's y/n alright? the chick's y/n!" yeonjun doesn't do well under pressure, at all.

"what are you talking about--" beomgyu's face morphed into shock with his mouth agape. "--oh my fucking god. yeonjun, y/n's the chick? the one who brother zoned you?" beomgyu yelled.

"yeah...?" he said hesitantly.

"i can't--i just can't. soobin knock some sense into him." beomgyu turned away dramatically, shaking his head.

"yeonjun--" soobin started.

"dude, y/n has been in love with you for like a decade!" beomgyu blurted out, turning to face yeonjun again, interrupting soobin.

"uh..no? guys, i literally told you that she said she sees me as a brother. i saw her telling some guy that at the frat party last week."

beomgyu walked towards yeonjun, grabbing both of his shoulders, shaking him, "she. didn't. brother. zone. you. you stupid fuck!"

"she's been saying that to people because its so obvious that every time she tries moving on, she still likes you." soobin added in.

yeonjun, with his brows furrowed, tore beomgyu's hands off his shoulder -- walking towards his phone.

and it felt like a million thoughts were racing around his head the three seconds it took for him to get his phone, like a storm, a big tornado clouding his mind. but the most heavy was...how long? a fucking decade? and he never noticed?

he found it hard to swallow, almost nervous...that it was true.

the two other chois were staring at him, exchanging glances.

and when he picked up his phone, it was like he feared.

his text was left on read.

yeonjun's roommates were right for once.

all the secret glances he'd catch, a smirk twitching on his face as he pretended not to see, all the times you'd practically asked him out -- he shot it all down subconsciously thinking it was nothing more than coincidences on top of coincidences.

"you know, i was thinking it was weird you freaked out so much about the brother thing. yunjin told you that right to your face like last month and you didn't say anything." beomgyu said as he let himself fall on the couch.

beomgyu was right, he didn't care when yunjin said it.

yeonjun looked at beomgyu, eyes confused. "so...what are you trying to say?"

"maybe you feel the same way...? god, do i have to spell it out for you every single time?" he said dramatically, groaning.

"okay yeonjun. drama's over, go do your walk of shame to your room." soobin said, getting comfortable on the chair again to watch the premier of his show.

"and reflect!" beomgyu shouted out as yeonjun went over to his room, obeying soobin with his phone tight in hand.

"what are we watchin?" beomgyu finally asked, soobin giving him a side eye in response.

"we? beomgyu, i'm not watching another show premier with you again."

"just because my commentary is too good doesn't mean you have to get all jealous--"

yeonjun bursts out of his room through the narrow hallway that lead to the main door, a coat hanging on his right arm as he hurriedly slipped on his sneakers.

it startled both of the guys on the couch, looking over at him with brows raised: what is yeonjun doing?

no one could get a word in, not even beomgyu, before he was totally out of sight.

only adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he shut the door behind him, putting his arms through his padded coat, and sprinting to the elevator -- frantically spamming the button to make him falsely hope the elevator would reach his floor any faster

it wasn't like he had to do something in the ten minutes his head thought he had left, no, it was the realization that had him acting in urgency he never thought he'd have for a girl. all of his stupidity dawning on him -- for fucksake, of course it mattered that you said he was like a brother, it was you.

and as he ran out the building -- his head felt dizzy, not because it was overwhelmed with thoughts, no, this time he only had a few but those were harder to manage his head.

did he ever give up on you in middle school?

did he ever move on from you in highschool?

did he really dump a dream, you -- the dream he had as a boy, with all the other dreams he never thought would happen?

when yeonjun was finally in front of your family house, the one you still chose to live in through your college experience, he moved to where'd he guess the window of your room was.

"y/n?" he shouted out with all the energy he could muster up. he had to bend over his knee to catch his breath, because he would shout your name again.

again, and again, and again.

blood rushed up to his cheeks, not because of the cold, because he was embarrassed -- what if you weren't even here?

he waited, staring up at the window which showed no sign of your room light being on.

but he wouldn't give up, he'd have to try something else.

yeonjun looked down at his feet, the absence of the sun being harder on his vision. there were no rocks, the only thing visible to his eyes were branch sticks which only made him hope that his aim was good enough to get your window a few times.

it wasn't.

when the last stick that he found hit a window that wasn't the one he was trying to aim at - he cursed under his breath, defeated. yeonjun concluded that this was a bigger fail than the fucking time he found out that he was flirting at a family--not a class, reunion.

he could just go back to his dorm and call you is what he thought as he exhaled, a fog escaping his lips into the cold, feeling even more of a loser.

"yeonjun?!" he turned around at the familiar voice calling out for him and his eyes widened, lighting up as they set on your face, finally out of the window, with your room light making it a little easier for him to see your features.

"y/n?" he shouted back, ecstatic.

"what are you doing out here?", you shouted the words slowly so he could pick it up. then add, "it's fucking cold!"

"i just wanted to know" he inhaled, the cold air burning his nostrils, "why you didn't answer my text!"

it was silent, yeonjuns lips agape waiting for a response.

"you're fucking insane!" you said laughs slipping between your words, yeonjun scoffs lightly, a wide smile on his face.

he put his hands up as walls to his mouth to echo his words louder, "for you!" he shouted out in response.

"shut the fuck up!" it was a distant yell, one you both assumed, as you met eye contact, was y/n's neighbors. and then you laughed again at the untimely part of it all.

when you turned away from the window, yeonjun found himself yearningly waiting for you to come back. hands that were in his pockets felt a vibration -- his phone.

he took it out just to see a notification from his, quite frankly, favorite person ever.

[y/n, 10:26 pm] lets talk on here lol

he looked up and saw you at the window again, with you waving your phone at him -- it earned a smile tugging once more, on the ends of his lips.

just how did he manage to ignore overwhelming feelings about you, of you, for the past decade?

[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] come down. i'm not gonna tell u this thru text [y/n, 10:27 pm] why not? [yeonjun, 10:27 pm] don't wanna [y/n, 10:28 pm] youre asking me to get out of my cozy ass room just bcs u dont wanna??

"yeah! basically dumbass!" he shouted, startling your poor self out of your focus on your phone. you glared at him, yeonjun most likely missing it.

[y/n, 10:28 pm] STOP DONT DO THAT THOSE PSYCHOS ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS ON ME [yeonjun, 10:29 pm] ok then come down before i freeze my fingers off

when you slid your window closed, closing your curtains, he immediately turned to quickly run towards the front of your house. yeonjun leaned on the fence of your porch, smiling with thoughts of you clouding his mind, as he looked up at the moon.

it was all so cliché -- the type of scene his roommates would squeal over and one that he would roll his eyes to, but if he were to watch this part of his life, again and again -- the moment you opened the door, the moment you both exchanged looks that communicated 'we feel the same way don't we?', a short awkward laugh that was shared, the moment you hesitantly opened your mouth to say something -- and then, the final moment of his longing lips crashing onto yours, his cold hands warming up the moment he cupped your face, the repocracy from your side making him smile into the kiss, the euphoric realisation that he wasn't late, you didn't stop loving him yet, and when he cut the kiss short, both your lips barely apart, yeonjun whispered an i love you, and to it you smiled, pulling him into your house, to finish your kiss -- he would too, squeal over the scene, kicking his feet like a highschool girl.

ending a/n: YOU FINISHED IT YAY :D yeonjun was lowk an asshole for wanting to lead on mc at first for his own benefit, but hes such a cutie im sorry, its easy to forgive T-T let me know what you feel about this piece, it was so fun to write!!

[hypewinter]

Prev

Tim came down the stairs with an empty mug in hand. As he entered the dinning room he found a kid happily eating pancakes. Ah this must be the new adoptee, he thought to himself as he recalled last night's group chat.

"This is not a new adoptee," Bruce said looking up from the boy. Man, Tim hated when the old man guessed their thoughts like that.

"Say whatever you need to convince yourself B," Tim replied with a shrug as he went into the kitchen.

Bruce shouted after him, "He already has a family!"

The boy immediately interjected, "She's not my family silly! She's my friend."

Tim chuckled to himself as he filled his mug and came back into the dining room. "Aw B," he said smugly, "he doesn't even have a family. You're not saying we're gonna leave him on the streets are you?"

Bruce for his part, glared halfheartedly at Tim before turning back to the little boy. Tim also took this time to observe the boy. He believed Oracle had said his name was Danny. Danny was currently happily kicking his legs as he stabbed at his pancakes. Tim couldn't help but note how the pancakes had already been cut into bite sized pieces. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. No apparent injuries or adverse reactions to sudden movements. His clothes were also nice and clean. Probably Alfred's doing. Speaking of the old butler, he came in and set a plate down in front of Tim.

"Oh I'm not-" One eyebrow raise was enough for the young man to shut his mouth. He looked down at his plate only to immediately turn back to Alfred with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Mister Danny claimed it was not fair he was the only one to receive such special pancakes. He was rather insistent that everyone experiences such happiness this fine morning," Alfred informed.

Ah, that explains why Tim had gotten star shaped pancakes. He looked over at Danny who was smiling giddily at him. As Tim took his first bite of pancake, he couldn't help but agree with that assessment.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Danny?" the boy looked up at him. "As you know our... mutual friend left you in my care. As such after you're finished with your pancakes, what do you say I take you back home?"

"Ok!" the boy replied before shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

"I think I'll tag along too," Tim said. There was no way this little "drop off" was going to go as planned and he wanted to be there to see it. After all, someone had to keep the group chat updated. Besides, he took great joy in Bruce's half perplexed half annoyed expression.

"Don't you have some meetings to attend today?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth, guessing his son's angle. "Nope," Tim answered sweetly. "My schedule's all clear today."

"Fine," Bruce relented. "If you want to come along on this very quick drop off, I won't stop you."

Tim smiled into his mug. This was gonna be fun.

-----

"We're here!" Danny exclaimed as they pulled up to an abandoned looking apartment building.

"Are you sure this is your home?" Bruce asked cautiously. Tim couldn't blame him, this place was on the outskirts of the Bowery and looked like nobody had lived there in years.

Danny opened the door and hopped out. "Yep!" he said. "I know because I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home." He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Right," Bruce muttered pensively as he examined the building.

They all entered the building and began ascending the questionable stairs with Danny taking them two steps at a time. As they climbed, both Bruce and Tim noted how rundown the building looked. Walls were peeling and there was rubble and trash all over the floors. The railing on the stairs looked so rusted that a gust of wind could probably knock them over. Most of the lights didn't work because of one thing or another which luckily wasn't a problem considering it was daytime. But none of that was even the most concerning part. No, the most concerning part was how silent it was.

As they walked down the hall, it was simply too silent. Even taking into account that most people would already be at work right now, it was still too quiet. There was no hint of people coming back from work the night shift. No sound of those staying home sick or someone with a day off. No dogs barked, no cats made any noise. It was an eerie silence that seemed to blanket the whole building. It was unnerving.

Danny stopped in front of a door and opened it with ease. There was no lock or anything. Once again adding to the list of concerning evidence. They entered after Danny to discover a shabby looking flat past the door. There was barely any furniture, and the furniture that was there looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. The floor boards seemed as if they would give way at any moment too. The windows to the far side allowed lighted in but that only served to illuminated the mountain of dust everywhere. The apartment didn't even look lived in. There were no clothes anywhere, no dishes, no sort of decorations, nothing.

Danny seemed undeterred by any of this and happily pranced into a room off to the right. Tim followed him as Bruce stayed behind to look around more.

As he entered, Tim was relieved to find that at least this space looked lived in albeit barely. The bed had Superman themed sheets on it and there was a backpack leaning against the closet. The bed also had a blanket laying on top of it which Danny ran to and grabbed. He came back over to show Tim.

"This is my most precious thing!" he explained excitedly. "My friend gave it to me. Feel it! It's super soft."

Tim knelt down and felt the blanket which was black and had stars all over it. "You're right," he said. "It really is soft." Danny beamed. "Told ya!"

Tim smiled at the boy's obvious excitement despite his less than stellar living arrangements. Just then, Bruce called for him. Tim returned to the main room with Danny in tow, still clutching onto his blanket.

Bruce turned to him and handed him a piece of paper with an unreadable expression. The paper had cursive scrall on it that simply read, Take care of him my knights.

Danny looked up at them both curiously and Tim just sighed. So much for this being a quick drop off.

[macfrog]

jet

🎉 thank u guys so much for 1k followers 🎉 i don’t know how we got here but i love you all endlessly and can’t thank you enough for all the love n support. here’s some smutty joel to celebrate 🤩 this might become something, it might not. i dunno. wanted to try it out tho. lmk your thoughts ✨

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) post-outbreak!joel, pining i guess?? when don't i pine for this man, praise kink, light bondage, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (don't u dare), creampie, dom!joel, soft!joel, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), cursing, cute horsies

word count: 6.9k

main masterlist

Somewhere between Missouri and Illinois, last time you checked. Joel has the map, and you don’t bother asking him to see it much. You’ve been following the Mississippi north, on his orders, looking to hit St. Louis sometime tomorrow. Provided you don’t run into any trouble, that is.

It’s been three days with no safe refuge. Camping out in deserted houses with wood for windowpanes, stores infested with rats, office buildings with infected roaming. Joel figures the outskirts of the city are a good spot to stop for a couple nights, regain your strength, find supplies.

You’re a few paces ahead of him, only turning your head slightly when you notice an offramp, and looking back ahead when he doesn’t give any direction. You weave in and out of abandoned cars, hips swaying with the clipping of your horse’s hooves on broken asphalt, Joel’s horse in time at your heels.

You’d untethered the pair of them on a farm back in Nebraska. Joel had told you to stay put while he cleared the house, but you’d wandered over to the field when you spotted them. Timid, skittish, starving.

Five minutes hooked over the fence and they were both eating grass you’d pulled from the earth, right out of your hand. Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching had spooked them back a few steps, but you’d petted their muzzles and when he did the same, they soon warmed to him, too.

He’d jerked his head in a nod and muttered, “Good job,” before finding two saddles, strapping them on, and helping you onto the chestnut brown one – who you’d named Jet.

Joel had found tins of food in the farmhouse, and a switchblade for you to carry. He had a new stain on his shirt.

“Infected?” you asked.

He grunted in reply. Then rolled the tins into his backpack and hoisted himself onto his own horse, giving her reins a tug.

You knew that meant that yeah, there’d been infected inside. And recent, too, going by how well-kept the horses looked. It can’t have been longer than a week.

Joel’s silence as you both wandered down the farm track probably meant that there weren’t just adults in the house, either.

You’d glanced over to him, giving him a small smile. Bent over and reached for his horse’s ears, scratching where her soft black coat met her mane. The reins lay loose around Joel’s knuckles.

Protecting and providing for you was more important than some infected kids in a farmhouse. Joel had made that more than clear over the time you’d been with him. But somewhere, buried deep underneath years of fighting and killing, tucked away under a dusty flannel shirt, you knew his heart was hurting.

That was two weeks ago. Joel hasn’t talked about it, and you’re not interested in bringing it back up. Y’all got to the farm, took everything it had to offer, and you left.

Jet clicks her way along the highway somewhere south of the city. It’s still bright out; Joel reckons probably a few more hours of sunlight, so you know he’ll be scouting for places to camp out soon.

You lean back to stretch your spine, hand steadying yourself on Jet’s rump, her tail swishing as she walks. Her head bobs, looking from left to right, from the trucks with smashed windows sprouting moss, over to the trees losing leaves in the fall breeze.

It’s peaceful. Not much is, these days.

It’s quiet enough that Joel can listen for any sound of oncoming threat, and quiet enough that you can shut your eyes and pretend like you’re on some trail in the Texas country, on a warm summer evening; not exhausted, covered in dirt, weeks since you washed, days since you slept.

You’re humming gently to yourself, imagination taking you down by a creek where Joel pulls you by hand off the horse and you sit down to a picnic or something. He’d bring a basket. Maybe a bottle of wine, or a cheese board. Maybe he lays you back and kisses you on the blanket. Maybe his hand starts to wander up your thigh, skirt ruffling as he goes…

“Not much out here, is there?”

His voice startles you, bursting the seams of your daydream. He isn’t much of a talker, not unless you start it. You sit up straight and give your head a shake, as if dislodging the fantasy from your mind.

You twist around to look at his face; squinting under the bright white sky. Tired, same as you, lined, flecked with years and sun and survival.

“Hm?” he asks when you still don’t reply.

“Not a lot,” you finally say, clearing your throat and turning back to the road.

Finding the horses isn’t the only thing that’d happened two weeks ago.

Joel hadn’t wanted to camp in the farmhouse, hadn’t wanted to have to shift the bodies. Too much effort, or too much for you to see, maybe. You’d protested, heart set on a night’s sleep in an actual bed, but he hadn’t budged.

And you knew not to push him.

The sun was setting, though, so Joel led you down a dirt track toward a barn and burst the padlock. He tied the horses up just inside the door, used bundled up hay as a makeshift mattress upon which he laid out a blanket for you.

He barricaded the door as you lay back, did a walkaround of the place just in case any infected – or worse – were waiting to surprise y’all, and then sat down next to you.

Your head by his thigh, you put a hand on his knee.

“You can lie down, too, y’know.”

He grunted in response, breathing deep and steady.

“Joel.”

You took his shoulder and tried to pull him down to you, but the man is stronger than anyone you’ve ever met, even in his late forties, and you were convinced he’d only pretended to be yanked toward you so as not to hurt your feelings too much.

He remained upright. “Just want to keep watch for a while.”

Joel’s like this when you’re on the road. He’s cautious. On high alert. Always watching ahead, always listening out for whatever he thinks he might hear in the distance. Sometimes you can say something to him and have to give his leg a kick for him to answer you.

You’d sighed and pushed yourself up to lean your bicep against his. He furrowed his brows and scanned you from your jeans to your jaw.

“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him.

“You need sleep,” he replied flatly.

You shrugged. “So do you.”

“What good is both of us tired?”

You sighed again and shook your head. You weren’t gonna argue with him.

Good thing he didn’t feel much like arguing, either. Ten minutes later he was on top of you, jeans loose on his thighs, head buried in your shoulder, fucking you senseless. Grunting and groaning into your skin.

You’d scored marks into his shoulder blades with your nails that you’re sure, if you peeled back his shirt right now, would still be there.

It’d tired you both out enough that Joel settled with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, eyes trained on the barn doors. You don’t know if he slept a wink. You never know if he sleeps these days.

Joel hears the hoarseness of your voice and knows that you’re tired, ‘cause he clicks to his horse and she trots up alongside you and Jet. He pulls the map from his backpack. You tilt your head to take a look.

“Keep ridin’ for another hour,” he mumbles. “’m sure we’ll find somewhere soon. Looks like we’re still a little way out of St. Louis.”

You nod, rolling your head back. The cloudy sky burns your corneas as you watch a bird fly overhead. Joel slips the map back into his bag and you feel his hand on your thigh.

“You okay?”

“Mhm. Tired,” you whisper.

“Only a little while longer.” He gives your leg a small squeeze and his hand returns to the reins. He doesn’t fall back, instead, stays ambling along by your side. It feels like company. Feels nice. Feels…normal.

Two weeks is a long fucking time. Especially when your adrenaline peaks on the regular, sometimes multiple times in one day, and you’re alone with Joel all day and all night. Trusting each other, relying on each other. Saving each other time and time again. It was only natural that you began to rely on each other for…more than just survival.

You can’t remember when you found him. It was in the QZ, back when you believed in stability and structure. When you believed in people. Now, the only thing you believed in was Joel. Broken, hurt, shut-off Joel, who’d grumbled an apology when his shoulder brushed yours in the hallway and changed everything.

You like to think you were something new to him, something different. A challenge, maybe. Something worth holding onto, anyway, for reasons he was yet to let you in on.

He had an apartment of his own, with a bed of his own, which was something you weren’t used to. You shared a cramped apartment with Luce, a single mom with a two-year-old. Joel’s was where you went when the tantrums, the screaming in the middle of the night, the ration cards being destroyed either by ripping, by eating, or else by other means, became too suffocating.

Joel didn’t believe in anything or anyone, either. That’s what kept you coming back.

He’d just open his door and step aside to let you in. Barely a word. He’d ask if you’d eaten, and share his plate with you either way. Wordlessly picking away at the same food, making sure you got the last spoonful of soup, the last strip of jerky.

Most nights he’d fuck you until your mind went blank, nothing but the smell of him, feel of him, sound of him. No talking, no kissing, no touching. Just the sound of the bed springs, Joel’s soft groans as he bottomed out inside you. The feel of his hot skin, hips rubbing against the inside of your thighs. The bare, cracked brick walls of his apartment would fade away with each thrust, and then slowly seep back in when your orgasm began to wash away.

You knew it was time-wasting, for both of you. Scratching an itch. But some nights, it felt like more. The nights when he’d be so caught up in what he was doing, so caught up in you, that he’d forget to pull out. The nights his hips would snap messily and suddenly he was spilling inside of you, a deep groan humming against your skin between his teeth.

He wouldn’t care to ask, and you wouldn’t offer the information for free, but you remember every fucking time he did it. Where it’d happened, the position he had you in, how long it took for him to finally peel his body off of yours.

And afterwards, he’d let you sleep with your head on his chest. Let you play with his fingers. Let you talk to him; let you ask questions.

Didn’t mean he answered all of them. Didn’t even mean he answered much. Some, he’d give away more openly than others, but you soon got used to clocking when he was keeping a secret. Make a mental note of it, remember to chip away at it.

He trusted you, though; you knew that. Knew it by the way his fingers knotted safely in your hair, the way he’d lie naked with you until the sun came up. The way his breathing would slow, the way he’d mumble in his sleep.

You never talked to him about the incoherent words he’d breathe – but you could piece them together well enough to understand him better than his waken self would ever reveal.

When you brought up leaving, one rainy night weeks ago, he thought about it maybe twice over. Asked how he was supposed to keep you safe.

You do that already, you told him.

‘s different outside. You don’t understand.

It can’t be any worse than in here.

You’d taken a step forward, and he’d flinched, but allowed you to take his strong jaw in your hands. You tried to form a sentence, and when your throat closed up, eyes flitting between his, he took your wrists and lowered them. The shadow of a rain-spattered window doused in a sickly amber glow across his face.

You’d wanted to kiss him. And had he left your hands where they were just a few seconds longer, you think you might’ve. Joel saw it in your eyes, and stopped it.

Whatever. It had still convinced him. He packed his bag and you snuck down the fire escape the following night. Joel’s fingers were hooked around your belt loop the entire time, keeping your hip in stride with his all the way until you were at least a hundred feet away from the QZ wall.

His other concern was his age. Why someone like you would want to run away with someone like him. Forty-something, graying, past his peak. He has, like, twenty years on you. Once he made some reference about Bruce Springsteen and, when your face blanked, he sighed and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

I know who Bruce Springsteen is, asshole, you’d said, just didn’t get that reference.

He’d shaken his head and given you a sly, twisted smirk, then pushed you out the door of the apartment block you guys were searching.

Still, despite the years between you, you have one major thing in common.

You’re both good at getting each other…there.

Joel knows exactly what to do to make you tick. You know exactly how to push him until he does it. It’s in the way you look at him, the way you touch him. Things you say that make his stony eyes flit once down your body, and then you know you’re in.

It’s a little harder to do while on horseback, you gotta admit. The best you can do is look at him, say a sentence or two laced with want and need. Hope that he reads through the lines.

It’s worked a few times, when Joel’s suddenly found a shed or basement you can camp out in and then made it difficult for you to walk for the next couple days.

Right now, you feel too tired to even bat your eyelashes at him, never mind coming up with lines to turn him on. You’ve been on the highway for a few hours by this point, little sign of shelter anywhere nearby. Joel holds his hand out and you bring your horses to a stop in view of a hospital a couple miles ahead.

“That’s gotta be teemin’ with them,” you say, looking over to study his expression.

“Hm,” Joel agrees, and glances to the right.

“What you thinkin’? Sun’s getting lower.”

He takes a deep breath, pulls on the reins. “Know somewhere nearby.”

He heads off the highway with a click of his teeth, and you follow. You shut your eyes, chin burying beneath the collar of your shirt. You’d kinda hoped that he’d offer to clear even a small part of the hospital for you to rest up, maybe more, but you trust him enough to lead you somewhere safer, somewhere quieter.

That trust begins to wear thin, though, when the sun disappears behind the trees, drowning you guys in a low dusk, and the temperature begins to fall. Joel’s using what’s left of the gray light to guide him, slowing down to take a hold of Jet’s reins and line her up with his own horse.

“I thought you said an hour,” you mumble, grip becoming slack on the leather.

“Changed my mind,” he replies. “Almost there.”

Your eyes start to roll with exhaustion, hips aching from the position you’ve been sat in for hours now. It’s not until you notice the silhouette of a tall sign in the clearing, black against the fading purple sky, that you blink yourself awake.

Joel pulls you and Jet off the road to a deserted parking lot, shadowed by a motel. He slows the horses down, listening for any signs of life, leading them to the side of the building.

“Easy,” he whispers, pulling on the reins. Both animals come to a halt.

He slides off the saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. He takes your hands, pulling you down to him, and you glance around.

“Stay here,” he tells you, and you don’t have the energy to argue back.

He makes off, pulling his gun from his holster. You stand with a hand on each horse’s muzzle, gently petting. Joel’s gone for a decent amount of time, his silhouette slowly sneaking in and out of every room, spending a couple minutes in each before he clears it.

He returns with a box of pills, some gauze, and a bottle of water, which he hands to you. You take a long swig and pass it back, and he does the same.

“What will we do with Jet ‘n…?”

“Huh?” he asks, replacing the cap on the half-empty bottle.

“What’s your horse called?”

“She ain’t got a name.”

You tsk. “Bad owner.”

“We ain’t their owners.”

“Mine’s is Jet. Pick a name.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, but you know he’s gonna spend all night thinking up some name to go with yours. “We’ll tie ‘em up out here.”

“What if something happens to them?”

“Well,” he says, leading them toward the shelter, “if somethin’ happens to them, it only means it’s about thirty seconds away from happenin’ to us.”

He jerks his head toward the first room as he ties them up, and you know the conversation is over.

You wander into the small, dingy room, pulling your jacket from your shoulders. It smells of damp, the wallpaper’s peeling off the wall above the bed. The sheets are in disarray, a little dusty, but they look clean enough. The bathroom walls are covered in grime. Drawers empty, closet doors missing, entire place ransacked.

It’s as good as you get, these days. At least it has a solid roof.

Joel settles the horses and closes the door gently behind himself. You’re already tugging your boots off, sat at the foot of the bed.

He rests his gun on the nightstand and straightens up, stretching his back with a quiet groan.

“’s cozy,” you offer, and he nods.

“Better ‘n risking that hospital.”

The bedsprings creak when you shimmy up the mattress, resting your back against the hardwood headboard. It ain’t the most comfortable, but then it’s not meant to be, is it? It’s only meant to be safe, which Joel’s made sure of.

He stands at the bottom of the bed, watching you as you bounce up and down a couple times, laughing quietly at the sound of the springs beneath you. His expression clouds over under low brows.

“Y’okay?” you ask, tilting your head.

He nods again. Eyes flitting up and down, from your face to your neck, back up, and then lower still. Your chest. Your stomach. Your legs. You feel your heartbeat quicken when he takes a step forward.

“Just had to find somewhere better.”

“Better?” You smile. “Have you seen the world, Miller?”

He leans his knee against the foot of the bed. His brown eyes darken even more, and his jaw tenses.

“Had to find somewhere better,” he mutters, “so I could fuck you in peace.”

Your breath catches. You stare from his lips back up to his eyes. His fists are balled tight. His chest heaves with steady panting. There’s something flickering in the depths of those warm eyes; an ember, drawing you in. Tantalizing you.

You sit forward, pushing onto all fours, and crawl down the groaning bed to him, rising onto your knees when your hands meet his shirt. Your chest against his stomach, you look up into his eyes.

His rough hands knot in your hair and he pulls down, yanking your head back and your chin up to him. He studies your face, outlined in the moonlight seeping through the window. Then he lowers his jaw and lines his lips against yours.

“That what you want?” he hums against your mouth. You swallow his words – they claw at your throat as they go.

“Uhuh,” you breathe back, trying to connect your lips. He doesn’t allow you; steadily dodges your jaw like you’re a pair of negative magnets, repelling off one another. You moan.

“Needy girl,” Joel whispers. “Two weeks too long for you?”

“Mhm.”

You’re not tired anymore. You’re fucking desperate. You feel your cunt dripping, seeping through your underwear, worsened when Joel’s hand reaches down between your legs and cups you through your jeans.

You gasp and grab his arms to steady yourself.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, hand tensing around your core.

Your lip trembles as you watch the way his mouth moves, how he shapes the words. His teeth locked between soft lips, dappled with brown hair, ends singed gray. The way he almost spits the words.

Your chest meets his torso when you breathe in, a deep, shaky breath. Joel notices; the corners of his mouth twitch, holding back a smile.

“Want you to…want you…”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He pushes you back and falls on top of you, strong body pinning you against the mattress, hand still clamped to your crotch.

His head dips to your neck where he bites, scratches and sucks, mumbling against your hot skin, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

Your head begins to swim, body starts pulsing with electricity. Baby. Joel’s pet names are limited to one thing. One activity.

“Want you to f– fuck, Joel – fuck me.” Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

His hand begins wrestling with the button of your jeans. Thick fingers fumbling with your zipper, taking your waistband with both hands and hauling it down. The force of it pulls you down the mattress too, squealing as Joel rips the denim from your legs. You lower your hands to help him, but once they’re tossed to the floor, he bats you away.

He’s shaking his head, tsking, then takes both your wrists in one of his huge hands. Fingers twisted around your delicate skin, pinning them above your head. The bed sighs around you when he pushes your hands into the mattress. Your back arches, your chest rising to meet his.

Your legs part, knees settling either side of his waist. Of course they do. It’s what you know now. It’s basic fucking instinct at this point.

His free hand returns to cup your sex, feeling how wet you are through your now soaked underwear.

“Baby,” he coos, “this all for me?”

You nod a little too eagerly, not that you’re present enough to care. But it beckons a smug smile from Joel, who begins sliding your panties down your thighs.

Your hips lift to let him drag the fabric down, biting your lip, not willing to wait another fucking second for him. Lace meets denim on the torn-up floor, and you sigh, settling back against the rusty bedsprings and mottled sheets.

Joel’s free hand ghosts from your wrist down to your elbow, teetering along the sleeve of your t-shirt over to the collar, where he pulls it so far down into the valley between your breasts that a small noise passes your lips.

“Hm?” he asks, fingers pausing against your breastbone.

“’s my only shirt. Don’t…”

He kisses his teeth. His gaze never lifts from your heaving chest, skin damp with sweat right underneath his fingers. You can see him tossing it over in his head. What he wants to do, versus what he probably shouldn’t.

He blinks. Decision made.

“Give you one of mine,” he growls, and hooks his fingers, dragging the fabric of your shirt lower and lower until the collar tears open and it’s another scrap lost to the motel room floor.

And then there you are, naked and writhing underneath him. He’s still in his dusty flannel. There’s sweat lining his forehead. He holds himself over you, hovering, taking every inch of you in and storing it behind his eyes.

You jerk your hands, trying to break free just to touch him, feel him, but he pulls away again, tutting.

“No, pretty girl,” Joel coos, “gonna take my time with ya.”

You moan in protest, still wriggling under his body. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen, not even when his free hand dips to undo his belt. The cold metal kisses your naked thighs when he pulls it through his jeans; the leather drags up your torso and across your face as he lifts it.

He takes your hands individually, careful and yet rough, urgent, and slots them between the slats of the headboard. Your head turns up to watch what he’s doing. The silver of his belt buckle knocks against the wood as he slips it under your wrists, feeding it between your skin and the mattress, wrapping it around the slat between your hands.

Then he slips the belt through the buckle, and pulls. Tight. Your hands come together, wrists kissing, the leather burning your skin the tighter he pulls. You whine, head rolling back to meet his gaze, fixed on yours.

“Since you don’t wanna listen.”

The drip in his voice, sweet like honey, smooth as whiskey, forces your legs open wider. Joel smirks, pushing himself down the mattress and out of your view.

Staring up at the gray ceiling, you’re left just to feel him. Feel him as his palms splay out on your knees, pushing them into the bed. Feel his stubble graze the inside of your thigh as he drags his tongue up, leaving a trail of wet behind.

Feel when he breathes a whisper across your aching cunt, something you can’t hear over the ruffling of sheets around your head as you toss around. And feel when his fingers part your lips, opening you up wide for him to really fucking see.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, and you find the strength to lift your head to watch. He’s leant over you, one arm hooked around your left thigh, holding it open, the other fucking…playing with you. Like you’re some fancy gadget. Like you’re brand new to him.

“So,” he runs two fingers from your clit through your folds, “fuckin’,” lines them up at your entrance, “pretty – for me.”

He pushes up into you, and your head hits the pillow with a stifled groan. You’re panting through your teeth, back arching the deeper he goes, stretching you out and rocking waves of sparkling heat through you. Waves that hit the other end of your stomach and come rippling back, throbbing around his thick fingers.

His arm bears down on your thigh, forcing your legs wide open for him. His hand cups your clit and you buck your hips, rutting against the base of his palm. Joel laughs softly.

“Patience, darlin’. Don’t want it to be over ‘fore it’s even started.”

Your head rocks back and forth, eyes tight shut. It’s all you can fucking do, tied tight to the bed. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you, adding a third when you’re wet enough, thumb never leaving your clit.

You can feel your orgasm brewing in your stomach. Feel the tension between your hips. You’re chasing it, eyes shut, focusing only on Joel’s hand fucking in and out, in and out. You’re coming close, body pushing into the mattress, legs widening even more to let him slip a fourth finger inside you.

“Feel good?” he asks, almost with a laugh. There’s a smirk painted across his lips, you know it, even though you can’t find the energy to open your eyes.

You whimper in response, some small, muffled sound roughly shaped like yeah.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, and his wrist flicks harder.

You moan every time his fingertips kiss the edge of your cunt, pushing against the soft walls. You moan when he drags them out, leaving you empty. Again, when he pushes them back in, rough and fast. And then when he lowers his lips to your ear and tells you how good you’re being, how pretty you look, how hard he’s gonna…

It’s like he changes his mind in an instant.

Withdraws his hand, slick-covered and still hooked. Pulls it away as quickly as he pulls your orgasm from your body. It drains from you; reduces back to an ache you can’t reach.

Joel slips his fingers between his lips as he readjusts himself, repositioning on the squealing mattress. Sucks them clean as casually as he would at a cookout or something, then takes your hips in both hands and straightens you up.

His jeans are tugged down barely past his ass. He’s not prepared to waste any time ripping his own clothes off like he did yours. Just leans forward, pulls his solid cock from his boxershorts, and spits into his hand.

You watch through eyes glazed with lust as he strokes himself a couple times, eyes always on your swollen cunt, groaning as his spit coats his shaft. Then he lowers himself to you and does the same, only running his length through your folds.

You whine, feeling that familiar thickness separate you so close to where you need him, and yet so fucking far.

“Joel…” you whisper, but he’s not listening.

Transfixed on the sight of his cock moving against your soaked cunt. Listening to the sweet, wet sounds the pair of you make. His tip catches on your entrance a couple times and you gasp. Just fucking do it already.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath, and then…

It’s been months. Might even be years. But the feeling of him pushing inside you for the first time is still the same. Every. Fucking. Time. He’s bigger, thicker than anyone you’ve ever slept with before. And he knows it, because every single time, he glides into you without hesitation. No time for you to adjust. Just fills you up straight away, lets you deal with it later.

He’s cocky like that. Too careful when you’re on the road, and too careless when you’re between the sheets. Not that you’re fuckin’ complaining.

Your mouth falls open in a choked moan. Your lungs are gasping for air. Joel’s all you can feel.

Your elbows lift into the air, arms desperate to break free just to grab onto him, ground yourself, feel him close against you. Your wrists lock against the hardwood, leather digging into your skin as punishment for trying to break free. You’re stuck; nothing but the overwhelming feeling of him between your legs, filling you up and leaving you empty over and over again.

“Good girl,” he’s panting, still watching where his cock lines up with your cunt, and then disappears inside.

He leans down and his lips find home on your shoulder, sucking sweet marks into the skin like he always does. His tip bumps against your cervix, jolts of sensitivity pushing through you each time he bottoms out causing you to whine into his flannel.

“Fuck, Joel.”

“I know, I know. I got you. I’ll get you there again, baby.”

You had a routine. Follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. Deviate slightly from that routine, even for a minute, and you threw the whole agreement into jeopardy. One misstep on a crowded street dotted with cars once had a sniper open firing at you both for nearly two hours until Joel found him and put a bullet between his eyes. That time your curiosity got the better of you and Joel almost lost a hand stopping you from walking down an alleyway and straight into a wire trap.

Repeat it, Joel had said that night. Crouched by his apartment window, rain battering off the glass. Hands on the frame, ready to hoist it up and let you slip out any second. Repeat. It.

Do as you say, you whispered back. And only then did he pull the sash.

This is not the fucking routine. This is not the agreement. You fucked, of course you did. But that’s all it ever was. Hungry, touch-starved, desperate sex. Bored sex. We-almost-died-today sex. Not this.

Not: clear an entire motel just so nothing within a two-mile radius gets to hear you fuck me senseless. Strip me down, tie me up, push me to the edge with your hands, but don’t let me go without you. Curl your lips around my ear while you’re buried inside me and whisper praises. Whisper baby. Whisper…anything you like. Anything you wouldn’t say when the sun’s up.

This feels like it means something. To both of you. Feels like Joel’s looking for something in you, asking something of you. And you want to give it to him, whatever it is.

And maybe that’s the point.

He’s proving that he could make you do fucking anything. Let him tie you to a bedframe, push you close enough to the edge that you can feel the pressure of release beckoning you forward like the wind circling your ankles.

And you’re proving that you’ll do it. You’ll do what he says. Follow him to the edge, refuse to jump. Pull his body into yours, make it feel like home for a night.

He’s proving that he’ll take care of you, and you’re proving that you’ll let him.

Your wrists are burning. Leather digging marks, searing skin, then rubbing over it again and again to cut it deeper. It’s starting to hurt, if you’re honest with yourself. Your face probably gives it away.

Probably, possibly. Definitely.

Joel notices you quieten and lifts his head from the crook of your neck. Studies your face for a fraction of a second and knows.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up. He loosens the belt with one hand whilst still deep inside you, hips thrusting slowly just as a place marker.

When your hands slip free, Joel’s clasp gently around your wrist, fingers delicate over the sensitive, reddened skin. His eyes almost glisten at the sight.

“Baby…” he whispers.

“’s okay,” you reassure him, loosening his grasp on you and settling your shaky hands on his jaw. “I’m okay. Liked it.”

Joel lowers his forehead against yours and picks his pace up again, and you moan into the space between your lips. Your legs lift higher, knees bumping against his shoulders. His hips snap into yours, his jeans rutting against the inside of your thighs, the bed creaking with each messy thrust.

“Close, baby,” his voice vibrates against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whine, chest pushing against his. “Fuck. Right there. Fuck.”

Your arm drapes over his shoulder blades, nails dig into the rough cotton of his shirt. Your left hand is still at his jaw, fingers caressing his cheek. Joined together at your hips and your brows, gaze never really meeting for longer than a second, but still. You’re right there. Joel – he’s right there.

It’s new, it’s intimate. It’s almost…sweet.

“Gonna cum with me?” he asks, sincerely. He’s not trying to coax it out of you. He’s checking that you want to fall over the edge. Not for him, not because of him, but with him.

You nod and he returns it, sweat sticking his dark hair to his forehead.

With his eyes on you, flitting between your parted lips and your batting eyelashes, too scared to settle on either place for too long, he lifts your hips and fucks into you fast. Deep. Fucking – hard. Skin slapping against yours, breath hot and tangling with yours between your lips.

The pressure between your hips begins to build again, rapidly, Joel adding to it with every movement. Every push of his thick cock against your walls only draws them in tighter, closing around him, holding him closer to you with each moan escaping both your lips.

“Darlin’…” he murmurs in a broken voice, and you know. He’s starting to falter. Thrusts weakening.

“’m there too,” you reply, gasping for breath.

“Let me – feel you,” he says, “pretty girl.”

Maybe it’s the fact you don’t normally talk. Maybe the fact he never touches you the way he has tonight. Maybe it’s him wanting you to cum first, before he will.

Or maybe it’s pretty girl, that finally sends you over.

You look so good to him. You’re being so good for him. ‘n he can’t help it, has to let you know. Has to let every thought that passes through his head slip out past his tongue.

Pulling his chest flat against yours, you throw your head back to the pillow with a moan so filthy, so guttural that you’d be surprised if you don’t have company in five minutes.

Joel’s at your heels, face buried between your breasts, groaning into your chest as his cock twitches deep inside you and you feel him fill you up.

Your orgasm’s still knocking you senseless, every nerve in your body electrified. You’re holding Joel tight to your body, his ear flat to your chest, and you know he can hear your heartbeat. Know he’s listening to it throwing punches from behind your ribcage.

He’s still groaning through his breaths, heavy and thick with his release. Cock still deep inside you, still, softening. You lay like that for…well, you’ve no idea how long. But after a bit, Joel pulls himself up off of you and wanders into the bathroom.

You sit up on your elbows, taking deep, steady breaths, and let the stars in your vision dissipate. Joel emerges a couple minutes later and finally tugs his jeans down. He lifts both his shirt and the tee underneath off in one motion, tossing them onto the sideboard, then slips back under the covers, wordlessly hooking a hand around your upper arm and pulling you down onto his chest.

Your legs intertwine with his. There’s cum seeping out of you onto his thigh. Both of you, mixed up as one. His fingers sift through your hair, doing little to untangle it but trying all the same. His breathing in time with yours, his lips pressed safely to the crown of your head.

Before you know it, you’re sleeping.

Dawn breaks early. Too early. You’re still tangled up in Joel, feeling his chest rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat – slow, calm. The drapes – not that there’s much left of them – are too thin to stop any light from flooding in. It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up.

The rough sheets sting against your wrists – red marks scoring them where Joel’s belt had been. You wince, running light fingers over the grazes, hissing at your fingertips as they go.

It hurts way less than it thrills you. This little reminder of what you did last night. What Joel did. The pain subsides the longer you touch the scars, knitted brows melting into a smile.

You slowly lift your head, propping yourself up on your elbow. Just watching him. The dust in the room frames him in a sea of white glitter, the slow-emerging sun lights across his face and dips where the scar on his nose sits.

His arms are still around your waist, cradling you. Holding you to him. You know he’s stirring when they tighten, and then fall loose. Façade back up. Walls slowly rebuilding.

You dress yourselves in silence. Run out of words to say. There ain’t nothing to say – nothing that wasn’t said last night. Joel sinks into the mattress beside you to tie his laces, and your arms brush against one another a couple times. It’s like fire on ice.

He’s first to leave the room. Just pulls his jeans over his boots and stands, unlocks the door and lets the light flood in. You check once over for anything left behind, and slip out. The air is cool, twilight still slowly washing away. You sling your jacket over Jet’s back and pull yourself up.

Joel’s t-shirt is loose over your shoulders. He gave you a fresh one from his bag. It smells like him, but you don’t let him see when you bury your nose into it to breathe him in. The hem bunches up over the top of your thighs once you’re sat on the horse.

His eyes scan down you once, surveying you in hisshirt. Then he swerves off back toward the road, silhouette cutting between the rays of sun streaming between the pine trees.

“Ghost,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Huh?” You click to Jet to follow.

“Horse’s name. Ghost.”

“How come?” you ask when you’re side by side with him.

He shrugs, upper lip turning. “When it’s dark, you can’t hardly see her. She’s like a ghost.”

Joel’s hand surfs gently across Ghost’s mane, fingers scratching her shining coat. Your bodies rock in time with the sway of the horses’ walking. The echo of their hooves on the asphalt masks the silence for a few moments.

“Alright,” you eventually accept, turning away to watch the sun lift above the prickly treetops.

And to hide the smile tugging on your lips.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

[repulsiveliquidation]

Scars || Alexia Putellas

Summary : you finally let Alexia be intimate with you. A little detail slips your mind but she soon uncovers the truth behind your hesitation to let her love you how she wants to.

warnings : smut in the beginning but nothing too explicit. angst. mentions of self-harm and bullying.

“Mm, amor you smell so good…” Alexia moans, kissing your neck. You smile and arch your back into her, biting your lip. She leaves wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones, nipping at them slightly. You giggle and tell her to stop tickling you with her blonde brunette hair, your hands tucking the loose strands behind her ears.

You hear her take a sharp inhale of your scent and feel your core throb at the deep sigh she lets out. Your hands cradle her head as she looks up at you, eyes darting down to your lips as she licks her own.

“Used that body wash you like,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss her. She kisses back immediately and you feel her melt, large hands pulling your waist closer to her.

“So beautiful,” Alexia whispers only for you to hear, the random assortment of rings on her hands leave cold shocks on your exposed skin.

 Her hands roam your build with determination as her lips nip and nibble on your chest. She pulls the tank top off you and takes a breast into your mouth, suckling gently. You shudder and moan her name unashamedly, chasing the feeling she left on your chest as she moved to the other breast. She kneaded the other and you could feel the groan in the back of her throat, strong thighs keeping yours wide open how she wanted.

The cold air in the room kept your nipple taut and hard, her fingers rolling them around as she rushed forward to kiss you.

“May I?” she asked politely, pupils dilated and full of lust.

“Please,” you beg and you see the look in her eyes darken.

But all this fun was about to be cut short.

You forgot one tiny thing.

But you couldn’t warn her before she pulled your sweats off.

“Cariño, what is all this?”

You take a split second to understand what she meant and when you finally realize it, she had seen most of it.

“No!” you yell, pulling the sweats back over your thighs and bounding for the bathroom almost tripping over yourself.

Your teenage years were not easy. Abandoned by your father and neglected by your mother, you ran away from home at age 7 hoping for a better chance at life. Two months on the streets, you were left cold and hungry, when a kind slightly elderly couple took you in. Sharon and Thomas gave you a roof over your head, hot food, and clothes; most importantly, a home.

They were both school teachers; Thomas taught PE and Sharon taught English. They were kind and gave you free reign in life.

Thomas taught you how to play football and while you were good, English was your passion. Writing came so naturally to you, Sharon was the one who suggested you write your first book. So you did. Poems came so easily to you, the words filling pages so fast, Thomas could barely keep up with buying you new ones.

Being an accomplished writer at 15 was unheard of, which gained you some local fame.

But with fame, came a price you wished you didn’t have to pay.

A local rival publishing team that had rejected your book was vengeful of the success it gained and did a little digging. They found your parents and your past, learning about your brief stint at homelessness and how you ran away from home at 7.

The headlines the next day were the topic of bullying from a group of mean kids at school. You didn’t remember their names now, years later but their words rang fresh in your mind if you allowed yourself to spiral.

Each word was one stroke of the blade over your perfect skin.

Each bloom of blood was the pain fading away.

Or so you thought.

Somehow the next day, their fresh set of insults doubled the pain. It made your chest tight, your head pound, your grades drop and your passion for writing evaporate.

“Nothing new in your notebook, peanut?” Sharon asked so sweetly, finding you sipping on tea in the sunroom. She brushed your hair back sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Nothing,” you lied. There were new things. They weren’t particularly parent-friendly.

“Tom and I are heading to a school meeting, dinner’s in the oven for you, okay?” she walks away, a knowing expression on her face. She can sense the pain like she was your own mother but kept her mouth shut.

“I love you,” she added and you looked at her, close to tears. If she could tell, she made no move to let you know she did but smiled when you said it back to her with a forced one. It broke her heart but she did not know that yours broke more.

You sat in your bathroom, hands clammy and shaking. The blade glimmered back at you like it was taunting you.

“It’ll take the pain away,” you convinced yourself, pressing the cold object over your mangled skin on your thigh.

The blood washed away but more pricked to the surface with each cut. Soon the water turned a dark red, and your head dully thudded against the glass wall, the pain fading into numbing nothingness.

The beeping of the monitors around you was what roused you. There were too many lights and lots of voices at once, but your mother’s sobs were instantly recognizable.

“Where did we go wrong, Tom?” she asked your father, “how did we not know?”

“I don’t know, Shar,” he said, sounding sad, “I don’t know.”

His next words broke you more than any bully's words could.

“I’m sorry we failed you, kiddo. Dad’s sorry.”

“You didn’t fail me, Dad. You saved me,” you mumbled, tears filling your eyes as they pulled away from one another and rushed to your bedside. Mom hugged you tight and thanked her stars you were okay while your father held your hand and kissed it over and over.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, looking teary himself.

“You saved me, both of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” you apologized but they were not hearing none of it.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us, peanut. The best.”

You don’t know when you started to build the dam in your heart but it broke the moment your parents held you in their arms. The safety of their arms was something you didn’t know you craved. But when they gave it to you, all your pain went away.

You never felt that safety from anyone else. Until you met Alexia.

You were merely a fan in the stands, dragged to a Barcelona game by your friends at work who happened to have an extra ticket to a Liga F game. She caught your eye and you hers, shy smiles and a hastily bought jersey from the stands outside got you her signature and her number written below it.

It took two coffees and a single baked good to know you were marrying this woman. She was funny, kind, loyal, inspirational, and simply devoted to you.

But most importantly, her arms were a safe haven. For you and your thoughts that still lingered to this day.  

You explained every one of the scars on your legs after she had begged for you to let her into the bathroom. One thing about your relationship with Alexia was that you were sure she was too good to be true.

Part of you wanted her so badly, but the other part convinced you that she would leave the moment she saw the scars. the mangled skin from years of reopening wounds. The bumps and ridges that cheap blades from the corner store got you on a teenager’s allowance.

And when she didn’t leave, you hated that you felt her pity. This world-class football player felt bad for the girl she met in the stands at one of her games. But she didn’t. She sat with you and listened, eyes and mind solely focused on you.

“Show me your scars,” she asked.

“But why?” you answered, albeit through sobs.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

It wasn’t long before you were back in her arms again, safe and sound, ready to be fiercely loved by her for the rest of your life.  

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz 🍭

[pompyoly]

Redacted headcannons BUT some of them are actually cannon

After Vincent got turned and William was positive he wouldn’t go on a bloodlust spree he would sometimes go out and forget he was rich

Asher was one of those overly excited tall scrawny kids who would get colorful bands on his braces

Aaron and Elliot would play as duo characters for every video game that allowed the player to select characters

Gavin would know how to do things but wouldn’t know how he knew how to do them

Laskos powers sometimes happen as a reflex like his fight or flight instinctively turns into float the second he feels his body falling or if he’s on high places(you wouldn’t catch this man on any roller coaster)

Sam has an old outdated picture of him and his grandmother that’s in black and white

All earth elementals are naturally strong, Water elementals are naturally smart, Fire elementals are naturally determined, and Air elementals are naturally focused

Milo and Sam’s family bloodline has/had problems with addiction so they never associate with alcohol or smoking with the fear that they could get addicted

Quinn used to “joke” with Darlin when they were still together by grabbing them and pretending to turn them when they weren’t paying attention and to this day they wonder if he was serious about biting them

Asher was one of those kids who would listen to old metal songs over and over(AND OVER) again until he learned the lyrics

Sam does own a cowboy hat and the Shaw pack(main 8) has made “save a horse, ride a cowboy” jokes(Sam doesn’t know wtf they’re talking about)

Darlin would lie to Gabe and David’s mom about their parents letting them stay over because they wouldn’t wanna go home

Lasko wears sweaters WITH EVERYTHING

Gavin got his music taste from FL when they first started meeting up claiming that he wanted to get closer to them rather than having sex with them

Darlin and Sam were cautious when they had their first time always asking each other if they were okay before, between, and afterwards

David’s contact name in the pack phones is “Davey” but they’ll never admit that to his face(he currently knows that Asher and Angel have it as theirs)

Gavin has nipple piercings and a tongue piercing(he has tried to convince Lasko to get one)

Darlin has a slight degrading kink that you could NEVER get them to admit(Sam found that out when they once started crying and he thought he hurt them and was flabbergasted when they told him to do it again)

ALL of Asher’s shoes are dirty except for his dress shoes and Milo gets so pissed when he wears nice sneakers and creases them or gets them dirty

Angel and Baabe both like kpop specifically Ateez and seventeen

Sam has a house in the woods and prefers a working house over a cute one(he has a porch swing)

Sam doesn’t like talking about his family but could go hours talking about his grandma

David hates the nickname “Dave”(don’t ask me why I just feel like he does)

Darlin once thought they hurt sams feelings and disappeared for days until they came back with a gift for him and waited until he saw it before talking to him(they’re terrible at apologizing and refused to tell Sam where they went while they were gone)

Porter always kisses Treasure's knuckles

FL has once broken a comb in caelums hair(but was so confused when they were able to move their hands through his hair)

The younger Shaw pack had a clubhouse in the woods in an abandoned cabin that Gabe helped David clean up

TS TOOK ME ALMOST 3 HOURS I QUIT(I’m lying:3 GM AND GN It’s currently 4:36 IN THE MORNING)

[igotanidea]

Caught: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Summary: Jason and fem!reader spending the night at Roy's place and poor Lian walks in on something that a little kid should not see (or even hear....)

Warning: SMUT!! MINORS DNI! (make reasonable choices please!)

@parkjammys, @jasontoddsthickbabe @gone-batty-fics I take the liberty of tagging you, lmk if you want to be removed from the tag list :D

***

Hanging out at Roy’s place was a mix of different emotions for both Jay and Y/N.  Watching their friend fulfilling the role of a father was something they couldn’t wrap their heads around. Who would have thought that this rough, argumentative, former Green Arrow sidekick could be so…. gentle and caring.

At the beginning Jay would tease Roy about it, but soon Lian stole his heart completely. As an effect, it was Y/N who teased Jason about going soft, so he just had to stop his actions, cause it was becoming unbearable.

The fact was nonetheless, that everyone just loved Lian. She was such a nice kid, so how could one possibly not? And those feelings were mutual on little girl’s part, especially with Y/N. Every time the older girl came by, Lian just wanted the full attention, telling Y/N stories, giving her pictures she drew, asking for stories and entertainment. And she got it all and more. It was just so hard to deny that poor soul abandoned by her mother.  Surprisingly, it was Roy who tried his best to make his daughter stick with some basic rules.   Like sleeping time.

“Ok, I think it’s time to get some rest, little one.”

The four of them were currently sitting by the table, playing some board game, Lian taking honorary place at Y/N’s knees, hugged tightly, secured and loved and enjoying it beyond recognition. Her wide smile was speaking for itself. But the wide yawning and eye rubbing was a sign of something else and Roy learned how to read the signals.

“But, daddy…..” Lian whined and pouted “I want to stay….. it’s so nice here with aunt Y/N and uncle Jay…..”

“I know, love, but you know the drill. 9 p.m. is bedtime.”

“I’m not…..” she yawned again and it was just so heartwarming Roy found his will crumbling “tired” her little fists travelled up as she rubbed her eyes in a child-like manner.  “Please…..”

“Hey there, little one.” Y/N smiled down at her and bopped her nose playfully “you gotta listen to your dad. He’s older and ….”

“Sure as hell he’s not smarter” Jason smirked and threw a glance at his best friend.

“Stop undermining my position.” Roy hissed becoming a bit red on the face. “

“Before I was so rudely interrupted…..” Y/N cut their bantering, her attention traveling back to Lian ” I was going to say that he cares for you, pumpkin. It’s all for your good, you know. One day, when you’re older you will understand it.”

“But…..”

“I can tuck you in.” Y/N offered and smiled “how about that?”

‘Can we do that?” Lian eyes grew wide and shimmered a bit, as she turned her head and silently asked Roy for permission with that pleading gaze “please, daddy?”

“I can’t see why not.” Roy shrugged and it made his daughter squeal in happiness. “I don’t think I ever saw her this excited about going to bed, Y/N. I just have to warn you, you’re up for a challenge.”

“I was never one to back down from one. Just look who I ended up in a relationship with” the girl laughed and pointed head towards Jason. “He’s more of a dare than all the little girls I know combined.”

“There are more little girls?” Lian smile dropped as she looked down.

“Of course not, sunshine. You are my priority. Now, let’s get you up….” Y/N wrapped her arms around the girl and stood up carrying her towards the bedroom “say goodnight to the boys.”

“night daddy. Night uncle Jay….” Lian waved her little hand at both of them, earning herself two chuckles and some loving words wishing her sweet dreams before both girls disappeared from the sight.

“She’s good with Lian, you know” the second they were out of earshot Roy turned towards Jay. Now it was time for some men time.

“I know. Y/N just a natural caretaker.”

“Speaking from experience?” Roy reached under the table and grabbed two can of beers, hidden there from Lian. He passed one to Jason who took it with a appreciating nod.

“I’m not exactly the easiest one to deal with.” Jace shrugged “I give her hard time, make her worried, got her walking on the tightrope. And yet, she never left. She’s still with me. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You sound so cliché right now.”

“Look who’s talking. The perfect father.”

“Have you ever wondered how we evolved from those violent, angry teenagers? How we ended up here?” Roy trailed taking a sip of his beverage “have you ever wondered if we actually deserve it? Deserve them.”

“constantly.” Jason sighed deeply “maybe that’s the while point. Our girls make us better. Make us want to be better. For them. Cause they see something more to us? I don’t know. But what I do know is that we are fucking lucky, Roy. And I have no intention of pushing that luck.”

“Neither do I.”

“Yeah.”

For a moment they were both just sipping on their drinks without a word. Silence was never awkward between them. Those two men were through so much together that sometimes they could literally read each other’s mind.

“Do you love her?” Harper asked  a couple minutes later.

“Yes.”

“Have you told her?”

“I’m not good with words. But she knows.”

“You sure about that?” Roy teased “girls like words. They like being told that you care. Actions are one thing, but sometimes are not enough. Use your tongue.”

“Oh, trust me, I do” Jason smiled wildly, some dirty memories running though his head. Memories of her underneath him, tasting so sweet, tugging on his hair with surprising strenght “she never complained.”

“Please, spare me the details.” Roy rolled his eyes “all I’m saying is if you really don’t want her to leave, you should take care of her not only in bed. Otherwise someone might steal her away. She’s just a full package – beautiful, smart, caring, sexy.”

“Woah! Hold right there, Harper! Cause if you don’t I might have to beat you up, and as much as I’d hate to do it, I would if you start focusing on my girl’s attributes to much.”

“Just proving my point here.” Roy smirked “you are worried about her going away.”

“I am not!” Jason yelled in objection.

But for real, Roy’s word got him spinning. Worry, jealousy and doubts overwhelming his mind. He had to see his girl. Now.

***

Y/N was sitting by Lian’s bed, finishing the story watching the little girl slowly drifting off, writing in her sleep to find comfortable position. The older girl smiled lightly, care and love written all over her face as she pulled the cover over that little dreaming figure, tucking her in and kissing her forehead gently.

“Good night, angel. Sleep tight.” She whispered

Jason watched her from the slightly opened door and his heart clenched at the sight. God, he loved her. He loved her so freaking much. And even if that subject never came out between Y/n and Jason and Roy did not ask the question at their little conversation, but more often than not Jason was thinking about having a family with his girl. Having all those things adults were supposed to have. House with garden and picket white fence. Huge kitchen were they could prepare meals together. Rooms that would be filled with laughter and happiness. And maybe, maybe¸ a few pairs of little feet on the floor, running towards him, wanting hugs and kisses and love and attention. Maybe.

“Jason…..” he didn’t even notice when Y/n stood up and walked towards him

“I….”

“Sh…” she whispered putting a finger on his mouth and that simple gesture made him melt, but also turned him on “Lian’s asleep. Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed grabbing her hand and pulling her towards their room “you’re mine now….” his eyes darkened, planning all the things he was going to do to her body.

***

“Jason…..” she couldn’t do a single thing when he opened the door to the bedroom, immediately pushing her onto the walls, pressing his entire body onto her. Trapping her, getting her so vulnerable with no way out.

“You’re mine….” He hissed, his mouth attacking her hungrily, hands landing on her waist, gripping it so tight she could almost feel the bruises forming already. “You’re only mine….” He bit on her bottom lip, tugging at it, making her wet and moaning.

“I….oh, fuck” his calloused fingers found a way under her shirt, caressing her skin, goosebumps showing on her body. “Are you jealous of my time with a little girl next door?”

“Yes.” He breathed, his lips travelling to her cheek, jaw, neck, nibbling on her skin, going completely crazy, unable to stop once the fire started. “I am jealous of everyone and everything that got your attention. People, things. I envy the flowers in our flat that got to feel your soft touch when you take care of them. I am jealous of your favorite cup, cause you touch your lips to the brim of it. Fuck, you make me crazy.” He panted, hands moving higher, one brushing over her clothed breasts causing her to arch her back, the thin material of the bra and t-shirt doing nothing to hide her pebbled nipples.

“Stop talking and just do something” he whined, reaching the edge of his jacket trying to pull it off his arms.

“It was pointed to me…..” he nibbled on her collarbone, the other hand reaching towards her hair, pulling them off the knot, making them flow down her shoulders and back, tangling fingers in those silky strands, pulling her head closer “that girls like words. So tell me, baby…..” she whined when he pull the strap of her bra down, pressing open mouth kisses on her shoulders “do you need words?”

“No. No, fuck no. I need action. More of it. More….” She clawed his back.

“Whatever you want, princess” both of his hands landed on her ass, palming it for a moment, lips connecting again, this time rougher, harder, faster. Jason was a tease and a bit of sadist. He wanted her pouty in her hands, he needed to see her fall apart, even before taking her to bed. He wanted her mind blurry, the only thought on her mind being him. But he wasn’t made of steel and feeling her body pressed into him so tightly got him hard to. Got him relenting and he could not have that.

Despite her protests he broke the kiss, slowly peeling the shirt off her, reaching behind her back, unclasping the bra and bending head to lick and suck on her breast and nipples.

“Ah! Jay!” 

“Yes, princess. Tell me how good you feel. Tell me you want more….”

“I want … I want more….”

“I know, baby. I got you.” he grabbed the backs of her thighs, opening her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Feel this?” he brushed his clothed cock over her dripping sensitive pussy “feel how hard you make me?”

“Ah! Please! I need you…..”

“I’ll give you a choice baby. I can take your pants off andhelp you get release” he played with the waist of her leggings “or I can get rid of my shirt and make you feel my skin and delay that sweet high. I know you need both, but you gotta choose.”

“You are terrible.” She panted, desperately trying to move her hips to get the slightest friction but his strong arms held her still “Jason, please, you’re torturing me….” She cried

“Then choose, baby” he whispered into her ear “you can end your suffering just with one word. What. Do. You. Want.” Each word of his were followed by little kitten lick on her skin and she burst the first thing that came into her mind.

“Take off your shirt.” He moaned “just take it off, now!”

“I was hoping you would say it.” He smirked. He wanted to tease her more and her pants gone would destroy the fun he was aiming at. Instead he shrugged his shirt off, letting her hands wonder around his abs and chest, so gently, softly, sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb.

��Please….” She whined arching back towards him, but he just pushed her back into the door, causing the loud thump to echo through the room and the girl squealed in undeniable pain.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry, baby.” He kissed her to make her forget what just happened “let me take you to bed.” Taking a few step backwards he tossed onto the soft mattress “better?”

“Mmmmm.” She whined “Yes.” She was so desperate now, that playing with luck she reached towards her pants trying to get rid of them herself, giving him access to her most intimate place but Jason was faster.

“Nah, honey.” He shook his head in disapproval “I am in control. Will you behave?”

“Yes, yes, I will, please.”

“Hm, I don’t think that’s very convincing.” He tapped his chin “just gotta make sure.”

“What….?”

“This will do the trick.” He reached under the bed grabbing the rope and binding her hands behind her head, tying it to the headboard.

“Where did you…..” she panted but was immediately cut out by his lips on her breast, stomach and getting lower

“Does it matter?” he smirked against her skin “I know you like it, don’t you?”

“I do. I do, please, please, Jason. I can’t take it anymore. I need you. I need you.”

“ God, the things you do to me.” He groaned sliding her pants of in one fluid motion and licking and sucking where she needed him most. Oh, the inferno he started just by touching her. Oh, all that craving and longing and lust and love. But she needed more as she writhed and squirmed, trapped underneath him.

“It’s not enough.” She complained

“Not enough?” he raised his head and looked at her, with a challenging look “last time I didn’t stretch you with my fingers you were in pain for days. You want that again?”

“Yes. And …. And I need to touch you.” she tugged on the rope, her wrist already red and swollen “Let me touch you, Jason.” her seductive whispering and that soft, perfect body splayed before him, ready to be devoured and worshiped broke all his inhibitions.

“Fuck!” he groaned “I want you.” he finally confessed, releasing her, pulling his pants down and pressing all his body into her. “Tell me you want me too.”

“I want you Jason.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“Good.” His lips distracted her while at the same time he pushed inside, swallowing all her moans and those sounds coming from her mouth. She was so hot, so sexy, and her nails scratching his back only added to his arousal. “Cause I’m yours and I don’t like to share….” He started pulling in and out causing that familiar heat to build inside her.

“Give it to me, Jason. Give me it all.” She panted, heels digging into his ass, causing him to go deeper, hitting her g-spot with every thrust.

“I love you baby. Let me make you feel good…..”

“Yes!” she cried out, getting so close, so fucking close. “Yes, Jason. Right there! Right there!”

“Uncle Jay? Auntie Y/N?” soft, little voice coming from the door made their eyes grow wide, stopping at once, all that sultry, intimate atmosphere gone within second. “Fuck” being the only though on both of their minds. Y/N terrified gaze landed on Jason, unsure what to do know. Luckily it was so dark, Lian could not really see tangled limbs, naked bodies and sweat all over them. Despite all the awkwardness, Y/N managed to reach for the sheet and with a bit of Jason’s help managed to put it all over her boyfriend’s naked ass, trying to play cool.

“Hi, sweetheart” her voice trembled a bit, barely holding back a whine as Jason pulled off her, leaving her unsatisfied and feeling empty without him inside. His face was so red, he just stayed on his stomach, covered bottom up, unable to roll onto his back and face the little girl. Damn, Roy was going to kill them both, he knew that, so he left the talking to Y/N, considering her better in the field. “Did you have a nightmare, little one?”

“Not really.” Lian hugged her stuffed rabbit closer to her chest “I heard some noises coming from here and I came to see if you were all right, auntie….”

“That is so sweet, Lian. Thank you.” Y/N gasped “but didn’t your father teach you to hide when you hear suspicious sounds? That it might be dangerous to follow them?”

“He did. But never mentioned I should do that when I hear someone I love being in trouble.”

“And…. And who was in trouble in your opinion?” maybe that was wrong question but it just slipped thought he mouth.

“You, auntie.” Lian said innocently “you were screaming like someone was hurting you. But there is no one but you and uncle Jay.” She pursed her lips, her gaze becoming a bit angrier “was he hurting you, auntie? Cause he shouldn’t do that and maybe I should ask daddy to give him the talk?”

“The…. The talk?”

“He does that when he’s angry with me. And when he learns what uncle Jay did he would be angry with him too…. I’ll go get him and ….”

“No! God! Lian!” Jason almost sprung out of bed and if it wasn’t for Y/n he would cause poor girl much more trauma. “I mean…. I don’t think I was hurting aunt Y/N. She would tell me if I was, right?” he looked at her face, his eyes serious, searching for the answer. They had that conversation million times before. If she ever felt any pain during sex, she was obligated to tell him, since Jason could be rough without even realizing it. “Y/N?”

“No. No, you weren’t hurting me….” She whispered, cupping his cheek and brushing it gently, reassuringly, making him calm down.   

“Then what was he doing?” Lian frowned taking a step forward making Jay and Y/n put the cover up a bit.

“He…. He…..” Y/N’s mind went completely blank “you know, sometimes, when someone have a hard week and get tired….”

“Dad always gets tired.”

“Yes, you see, in a situation like this, relax is needed. And Jace, I mean, uncle Jason, was just helping me relax a bit.”

“Hm….” Lian did not look convinced “but daddy never make such sounds….”

“Shit.” Y/N hissed quietly

“Girls just tend to get a bit more tense, Lian.” Jason chimed in, saving his girl from further explanation “they have a lot more duties and worries about boys and need to be taken care off. You’ll get it when you get older.”

“Adults always say that!” she cried out “How old do I have to be? All this waiting is just annoying! And what if I don’t want to get something. Do I even get a choice?”

“I love this kid, but why does she have to be so smart?” Y/n hid her face in Jason’s chest, unable to hide the blushing even in the darkness.

“What’s going on here?” Roy heard Lian’s cry and acting like a concerned parent busted though the door “Oh, fuck!”

“Daddy, you said a bad word.” His daughter pointed out.

“Sorry, love. But trust me, no other word would describe what I feel now. I’m just…. I’m just gonna get you out of here. Now!” he lift her from the ground hugging tightly to his chest, hiding her face what whatever she may see. “And as for you two…. We’ll talk in the morning” he warned, but neither Jay  nor Y/N missed the slightest amusement in his eyes. That bastard was secretly enjoying them being caught in the middle of sex.

“But daddy, I need to know more. Auntie said uncle was just helping her relax and making her feel good.”

“SAY GOODNIGHT LIAN!” Roy screamed, effectively covering the laugh forming in his throat “cause this may be the last time you see them before I kill them both” he muttered towards his friends, leaving the room in a rush and closing the door tightly, but not before warning them to not even think about going at it again.

“Was I making you feel good?” Jason teased once they were alone.

“You were. But now I’m left high and dry….”

“Good thing I don’t care what Roy has to say about us being intimate.” He grinned and rolled over to finish what he started and she was more than willing to submit, just making a mental note to keep her moans and whines on the low.  

[cxrdycxps]

Black Box Warning • Ellie Williams

☢️ toxic reader • toxic Ellie • bad for each other • sad reader • mentions of suicide • alcohol abuse • reader and Ellie are kind of rough with each other • grief ☢️

Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist

The more of me you see, the less of me you’ll like.

You fucking hated Jackson. You hated starvation more so obviously you didn’t leave. But Jackson was the worst fucking thing that ever happened to you. It was everything your sister would’ve loved but she was dead in a forest in Virginia and here you were. The lone fucking survivor.

Jackson was full of happy people who laughed and smiled and enjoyed the normal life. Jackson was full of fucking actors. There was still a ravaged earth outside their walls and no dance nights in a run down bar would change that.

You went to them though because it was easier to get over served at the bar when it was crowded. Sometimes you’d actually get drunk before Seth cut you off.

There wasn’t much coming or going from Jackson, not in the six months you had lived there. There was a bit of fanfare when some girl showed up with a baby. She had used to live there and her kid belonged to the dead son of the school teacher.

You hadn’t stuck around to hear much more. You didn’t care. People died every fucking day, no one cared, not really or the world would stop. The world should pause for grief but it doesn’t. Sometimes you take a deep breath and you keep running.

Besides working and drinking, Jackson didn’t offer much in a way that let your exorcise your demons. Not until Ellie Williams returned and a couple of smart comments turned into a busted lip. Then you could taste the blood on her lips. Taste the sweat on her skin, taste her orgasm.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even like, not really. You ended up living together for convenience, she needed a room and you liked having access to fuck her when you needed to feel something.

There wasn’t a surface in that house that hadn’t been christened with nail gouging, biting, cursing sex. It was rough and ready and it never really helped. Not really.

A lot of people thought you were a couple. Ellie’s not-uncle Tommy thought it, Ellie’s not-right-now-not aunt Maria thought it, and Ellie’s ex girlfriend thought it. Neither of you corrected anyone. There was no point explaining how you both hurt each other to make yourself feel better.

“You were probably really good at this before you lost those fingers.” You told Ellie offhand and then gasped when her teeth punctured the skin of you bicep. “You’re like a fucking rabid dog, Jesus Christ.”

“Oh fuck off.” Ellie abandoned you across the arm of the sofa and you looked over your shoulder at her.

“You’re seriously going to stop?” You asked her, aghast. She only did that when she was really moody.

“Fuck off.”

You muttered under your breath as you pulled your jeans up. Ellie slammed out the door and you stared at the brown hunters’ jacket she had left behind her. The snow had fallen heavily and she had patrol today.

You had to walk by the stables to get to the watch tower and you pulled on your own jacket before grabbing hers and muttering under your breath. At the last minute you tossed the jacket back on the hook. She had left you hanging. Let her get fucking hypothermia.

You were half way to the stables when you met her doubling back and you weren’t too mature to laugh at her when she rolled her eyes at you. “Could’ve brought it.”

“Could’ve let me cum. Go fuck yourself, Williams.” You pulled your own coat tighter against the frozen drifts. When you arrived at the East gate you found your watch partner and tilted your head back to stare at the sky with a groan. “Not my fucking day.”

“Suck it up. Don’t care about your lovers tiff.” Eli snapped at you and you pictured him with a busted lip and several missing teeth. It helped the annoyance. “First Ellie forgets her fucking jacket and then you’re late and complaining.”

“Cut Ellie some slack.” Dina chided Eli and you chuckled to yourself. Always in her corner even when Ellie had abandoned her and her child. “You know what today is.”

“Oh fuck. It’s Joel’s dead day.” You swore before wincing. You knew it had to be something bad for her to leave you hanging like that. “Shit.”

“You forgot her father’s anniversary.” Dina stared at you, a disgusted look on her face. You looked at her with a shrug and her jaw dropped. “The most traumatic experience of her life and you forgot? You’re her fucking girlfriend.”

“I mean, the most traumatic experience was probably her girlfriend being pregnant. That would fuck with me for sure.” You scoffed and made to climb the scaffolding that climbed the wall.

“God you’re so fucking useless to her.” Dina didn’t let it go, following you closely. You blocked her out, wondering what was the point of patrolling the wall when you could barely see the tree line with the snow. “She needs you to support her.”

“Dina, you’re confusing me with someone who gives a fuck.” You told her, watching as the gates opened and the trail patrol groups set out on horse back. “So some old dude got his head bashed in. I didn’t know him. I don’t care.”

“You’re her girlfriend.” Dina repeated and you shrugged. You wondered if you were her girlfriend. That seemed to be too big of a title for housemates that fucked each other to avoid their grief. Ellie hadn’t remembered your sister’s anniversary. Why should you remember Joel’s?

“Look, you fumbled your chance with her. You came back to Jackson to start again without her. If you want her that bad then have her.” You checked the rifle left in the patrol hut and checked the bullets left for you.

“You’d give her up that easy?” Dina asked, astounded in that very judgmental way she had. You looked up at her, bored with the conversation. “You’d just pass her off?”

“I would and yet you still don’t want her.” You laughed. “That’s kind of telling.”

Dina didn’t say anything and you settled in for a long eight hours, the rickety chair creaked when you took a seat on it, rifle in your lap. You wondered if you could argue the cold had earned you an extra drink or two to warm back up. Sometimes Seth felt bad for you. Most times he just told you to fuck off.

“I didn’t just give her up.” Dina spoke what felt like hours later. You didn’t look away from the snow because you didn’t care enough to let her know you were listening. “She left me and JJ. I didn’t expect her to come back.”

“Is it cause she’s down those two fingers? Because let me tell you, that hand? A complete write off. It does nothing of note.” Dina made a disgusted sound and you laughed, incredulous. “I mean you’ve got a kid, you’re not exactly in place to play the blushing virgin.”

“Do you understand what it’s like to love someone who sees themself as a sacrifice?” You would never tell Dina but you understood. Every time you closed your eyes you saw her face as she made the decision to sacrifice her life so that you’d survive.

She was stupid. Your sister. She had so much more to offer the world than you could’ve ever. You’d spent every day for the last five years torturing yourself for her decision. You, better than anyone, related to Dina. You knew what it was to be left behind.

“I do.” You shrugged turning to face Dina. You didn’t tell her you weren’t talking about Ellie. “But I didn’t abandon her, so I guess that makes me better than you.”

“Or it just makes you more stupid.” Dina argued and you knew she probably had a point. You would never tell her. “Ellie ruined everything we had because of a man who she didn’t even like when he died.”

“Stop talking. Or I’ll throw you off the fucking wall.” You pinched the bridge of you nose to fend off the coming headache. It seemed that you had only encouraged her.

“She hadn’t talked to him in months when he died. She felt bad because she hadn’t liked him.” Dina insisted.

“You’re so fucking stupid. He saved her life. I know you’ve seen her fucking arm. They were gonna cut it out of her brain to maybe try and make a vaccine. He killed the fucking doctor and his daughter killed Joel. That’s how it works. It’s a cycle!” You snapped at Dina who looked shocked, leaning away from you. “She loved Joel, she just couldn’t understand his reasoning for choosing her over the rest of the world. He loved her more than the world. You don’t turn into what we are over someone you don’t fucking love.”

“I don’t know-”

“It’s a twenty foot drop. I will make JJ an orphan.”

///

“You sort it out with Dina or you tell her to fuck off.” You didn’t give Ellie a second to even get in the door, finger digging into her chest. “I had to her spend eight hours with her stupid commentary on how I should treat you better.”

“Tell her yourself. I don’t fucking care.” Ellie kicked her converse off and dropped her bag, shrugging by you. “Anything to eat?”

“Do I look like a fucking house wife?” You asked her with a scoff and she rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. “Head on over to Dina’s, I’m sure she’ll make you something.”

“Stop with the fucking Dina rhetoric, I’m here, ain’t I?” Ellie slammed her hand down on the table in the kitchen and you laughed coldly.

“Should I be glad? Am I winning by eating off a plate that Dina licked clean?” Ellie narrowed her eyes at you and then your head hit the wall. Her hand was around your neck and you let your eyes shut slowly. “Finish what you started.”

“Jesus, you’re such a needy fucking bitch. Picking a fight because I didn’t let you cum this morning. You got fingers, don’t ya?” She asked, her free hand unbuttoning your jeans. She didn’t pull them down, just slipped her hand inside and laughed cruelly. “You been this wet all day or does my hand around your neck really do it for you?”

“Like three fifths of a hand.” You gasped and she squeezed tighter around your neck and pinched your clit cruelly. You would’ve been embarrassed with how much this was working for you if you cared at all what Ellie thought of you. Instead you ground against her hand as she pumped two fingers into you. You shuddered against her when you came and let her push you to your knees.

There was no smart comments when she shucked her jeans and boxers, pushing you forward by a grip on your hair. You didn’t bother to tease, paying extra attention to her clit, just how she liked it. She held you in place while she came and you stayed without complaint while she spasmed around your tongue. “At least you’re good for something.”

“Oh fuck off, Ellie.” You sighed and pushed yourself to stand up. You didn’t give her any further attention and moved for the shower, knowing she would bang on the door as soon as she realized. She preferred showering when she got home.

She got her revenge on you later that night. Hoarse screams came from the next room. Shouts of Joel’s name along with pitiful cries had you shoving your blankets down and making your way into her room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She was shivering in the cold and you watched her for a second. “Get out.”

“You’ve woken me twice already.” You told her, leaning on the door frame. She still didn’t look up and you realized she wasn’t shivering. She was crying. “Can’t save them all.”

She had said that to you once, when your told her about your sister. You had punched her and then fucked her for it. She didn’t even react to the words and you stepped into the room. “Get back into bed.”

“Fuck off.” She did as she was told and you slipped in beside her. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Shut up and turn around.” She faced the wall, her back to you and you pressed up against her, an arm around her middle. “It’s too cold to sleep alone tonight.”

///

Ellie was always awkward the day after you shared a bed. It didn’t happen often, it was never planned, and you preferred to pretend it didn’t happen.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke quietly from the kitchen doorway. You didn’t look up, letting your tea steep. “I’m sorry about last night. Yesterday was-”

“Joel’s death day. I know.” She paused in place and you finally looked over to watch her consider your words. “Dina reminded me.”

“Oh. Okay. Well I’m sorry for waking you anyway.” She mumbled and you shrugged. “And thank you.”

“I had to get to sleep at some point.” You told her blandly, turning back to your tea and removing the leaves. “Was the only solution.”

“Jesus, do you have a fucking off button for that attitude. Every time we do anything that might show this is more than fucking you shut down.” You laughed and turned to face Ellie.

“More than fucking? I’m just a hole and a mouth that you use to get yourself off. You are no different for me. If you want emotions go somewhere else.” You told her and she rolled her eyes.

“Imagine your sister sacrificing her whole life for you to end up this bitter fucking shell of a person.” Ellie laughed bitterly. “What a fucking way to honor her.”

“Oh, so that’s how you’re feeling this morning?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “Atleast I didn’t walk out on my girlfriend and kid to trek across the country and avenge my father just to let his killer go at the last second.”

“Your obsession with Dina is bordering on a mental illness.” Ellie accused and you shrugged, sipping at your tea. “She’s into women, you might have a chance.”

“Yeah? So she can turn me into whatever the fuck sort of lap dog she made you? I’ll pass.” You kissed your teeth when Ellie stepped closer. “You act all high and mighty but I know you got down on your knees and begged her to take you back and she said no.”

Ellie clenched her fists and you braced yourself for impact but she only shook her head, turning on her heel and slamming out the door. You stared at the brown hunting jacket for the second day in a row.

You would’ve brought it this time but that wasn’t very ‘bitter shell of a person’ of you.

///

Seth was distracted this evening. He had served you nearly double what he usually did. You let the music drown out your thoughts and sipped at your whiskey. You were bordering on what could be considered tipsy. Your toe was tapping along to the music and it could actually be described as a pleasant evening.

Of course, you never got that kind of peace for long. You weren’t overly polite when a grating voice started somewhere to your left. You ran a hand down your face and tried to ignore it. Everyone else was able to go on with their day and you needed just one good one.

You could have a few more drinks, if Seth was amenable, wait for Ellie to finish her night with Tommy and then get throughly fucked when you got home with Ellie’s hand around your neck and her filthy words in your ears.

“I’m beginning to think you two don’t even like each other.” Nope. There it went. Your pleasant buzz, your nice evening. With just two seconds and a handful of words, Dina had ruined it all.

You ignored her, sipping from your drink again. She didn’t like that and pushed in on your side and took the stool next to yours. You let your head tip back and huffed out a breath. “You never sit near each other in public. Any interaction the pair of you have is openly hostile.”

“Dina, I have worked by your side for four days this week, that’s thirty two whole hours I had to listen to your opinions. I don’t care. Now fuck off.” You told her, tracing your index finger around the rim of your glass. Your pleasant buzz was long gone and now the drink was fueling your anger, riling you up quickly.

“Why bother pretending?” Dina asked and you looked up. Your eyes caught Ellie’s first. She was watching you, half out of her seat. You turned away from her to look at Dina.

“Pretending what?” You asked her with a laugh. “We live together. We fuck. That’s all there is to it.”

“Except every time you looked at her tonight you got this serene little smile on your lips. Why are you pretending you don’t feel anything for her?” Dina asked and you blinked at her.

“Why are you pretending you aren’t mad at her for getting Jesse killed and then passing up the opportunity to kill the one who killed him?” You asked and stood from your stool, downing the last of your whiskey.

You were almost two steps away when a hand gripped your arm. Ellie almost barreled into you in her rush to get Dina’s grip off you. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Ellie stood in your way to get to Dina and you shook your hands out, keeping your mouth shut now that people were watching. “She doesn’t like that.”

“Time you get on out of here.” Seth spoke from behind the bar.

“Time you stopped over serving her.” Ellie snapped at him, still staring at Dina. Seth only sighed and shook his head.

“It’s her sisters anniversary.” Seth spoke quietly and Ellie laughed bitterly.

“That’s in June. Stop fucking enabling her.” Ellie turned away from Dina and Seth and grabbed your hand in hers and dragged you from the bar. “Is it too much to ask for one nice night?”

You pulled your hand free and crossed your arms. You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to her. You always felt like a child when you did. “It wasn’t-”

“I’m not blaming you. That was all her.” Ellie assured you and you nodded. You stumbled a little, more than tipsy now the air hit you. Ellie’s hand shot out to catch you and you fell against her. “Let’s get you home.”

“Birthday. It’s her birthday.” Ellie paused in place and let you lean against her. She wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against her. “I was trying to have a nice day. Was just enjoying my evening.”

“I know. I was watching you.” Ellie didn’t say anything else but she did urge you to start moving again. You leaned against her and she kept an arm wrapped around you. When you got home she let you go and you wrapped your arms around yourself and made your way to the sofa. “You want a glass of water?”

You didn’t answer Ellie, tipping yourself to the side and pressing your face into the sofa cushions.

///

You woke on the sofa, your head tilted to the side and a blanket tossed over you. Ellie had put a bucket on the ground too. You weren’t the kind of person to puke while drinking but she was so you could understand it.

It was still dark and you were fucking freezing. Your teeth chattered and you shuffled up to your room, changing your clothes quickly and staring at your empty bed. Ellie’s would be warm. Ellie would be warm.

She blinked at you from under her blanket when you cracked her door open. She had left her lamp on and you wondered if it was just in case you came in. She didn’t say anything but she shuffled over and lifted her blanket. You took the offered place, pressing your face into her neck when she wrapped her arms and the blanket around you.

“Thank you.” She only hummed, her hand sliding under your top to softly stroke the skin of your back. It didn’t take her long to drift back off to sleep and you watched her in the low light from the lamp.

You wondered if you could ever be what Ellie needed. You knew she needed to heal, she needed to be forgiven for her imagined sins. You weren’t sure you had that in you. You still hadn’t forgiven your sixteen year old self for letting your sister die.

You had spent every single day since punishing yourself for her death. She was your age now when she died and you wondered if you would ever make that decision?

If you would’ve sacrificed yourself to save her?

You weren’t sure you’d ever done anything that didn’t serve yourself first.

///

“I should’ve fucking known that pairing you up would’ve resulted in this.” Eli sighed when you arrived to the stables without Ellie. “Where is she?”

“Fucked if I know.” You told him honestly. Ellie had been off with you since that night in the bar over a month ago. She disappeared for hours at a time and you hadn’t bothered to ask where she was going to escape you.

“I’m here.” She left the stables with Shimmer and Henry in tow, both of your preferred horses. Ellie shared a look with you but you had nothing to add so you just took Henry’s reins and boosted yourself up onto the horse.

You and Ellie had patrolled together a number of times. It was how you had both first met, back when she had just arrived back in Jackson. It had resulted in some of the best sex of your life.

There wasn’t much discussion between you both, mutters about directions and when to stop and take a break. You usually let Ellie make the decisions because she was outside the wall more often than you were.

She was distracted today though. She had missed two turns and an outpost that needed to be signed. You called her attention quietly the first two times and by the outpost your very limited patience was gone.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Will you pay attention before you get me killed!” You snapped at her, hopping down off Henry to sign the log book stashed inside the dilapidated farmhouse.

“Why do you hate Dina?” Ellie asked when you looked up from your signature. She was standing in the doorway, blocking your exit. “Like you really hate her.”

“I don’t hate her.” You sighed, wondering why Ellie chose now of all moments to bring it up. Maybe that’s where she had been the last month. With Dina. Maybe she was leaving you. Did you have her enough for her to leave?

“You really hate her. Like I thought you were going to punch her that night in the bar.” Ellie sighed and you shrugged. “I need to know why.”

“Why?” You asked her quietly. She wasn’t going to let you leave so you took a seat on a rickety arm chair, dust puffing up when you took a seat. “Why do you need to know all of a sudden?”

“It’s important to me.” She told you earnestly and you shrugged again. You didn’t hate Dina. You disliked her, sure, but you disliked everyone. “I need to know.”

“I guess it would make it easier, huh?” You asked Ellie with a cold laugh. “I tell you why I hate the woman you love and you can go back to her without guilt, right?”

“No. The part of my life spent with Dina is over. I’m not the person I was and it wouldn’t work any longer.” Ellie sighed. “I’m with you now. That’s not going to change because you hate Dina.”

“I don’t fucking hate Dina!” You snapped and Ellie raised her eyebrows at you. You ran a hand over your face and sighed. “I don’t.”

“You feel something very strongly for her.” Ellie moved closer, taking a seat on the sofa. The same plume of dust came up when she sat and she coughed. “I need you to explain it for me.”

“She thinks we’re the same. She thinks because she loved you that she knows what we are.” You told Ellie and she nodded. “She asked me once if I know what it’s like to love someone who sees themselves as a sacrifice.”

“And you do.” Ellie sighed softly. You nodded, your hands clasped tightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that I’m sorry, about your sisters death and how it affected you.”

“I’m sorry about Joel.” You sighed, your head tipping forward so your expression was hidden. “Dina was wrong though.”

“About what?” Ellie asked. You didn’t look up at her this time, the conversation more real that anything either of you had shared before.

“She’s never loved a sacrifice.” You explained, clearing your throat didn’t help, the lump stuck. “You’re not a sacrifice. You’ve never been a sacrifice. Joel knew that, that’s why he stepped in that time. I can see it. You don’t throw yourself into fights you can’t win. You throw yourself into fights you will win.”

“I don’t thin- I don’t know if that’s-”

“You fight for the ones you love. You fight for those who fought for you. Joel risked everything to keep you alive. He was a fighter too. Both of you lost a fight the day he died. But with even ten minutes more of a chance he would’ve lived. The people fighting you both knew that. It took years to be able to beat you.” You explained to her. “That’s not a sacrifice, Ellie. That’s the unfortunate reality of the life we live.”

“I couldn’t save him.” She whispered and you nodded. “I won’t ever forgive myself.”

“I know. I couldn’t save her. She wanted to go. She had always wanted to go. She didn’t sacrifice herself for me. She wanted out and she took it in a way that looked meaningful.” You explained and Ellie blinked at you. “She was always sad. She always had been. She welcomed death. I’ll never forgive her.”

“I didn’t know that.” Ellie whispered and you looked up at last to face her. You didn’t say anything, wiping under your eyes. “You never told me.”

“I don’t discuss my feelings Ellie.” You sighed, exhausted. “So no, I don’t hate Dina. I’m jealous that she got this version of you, one that was full of life and she let you go over some misguided theory.”

“You wish I wasn’t like this.” Ellie wasn’t asking. “You want who I was.”

“I want who we were.” You explained. “If we had both met at eighteen we’d have been unstoppable. I would’ve had the love you needed.”

“You don’t love me now?” This time Ellie was asking and you blinked at her.

“Of course I love you. I think you might be the only person in this world that I love. But I don’t love you how you need.” You told her with a sigh. “We ruin each other every night and then kiss the cracks we’ve left on each other’s hearts like that will fix it. This ain’t healthy.”

“So you want to break up?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You wanted her to understand so bad.

“I should want to. I should leave so that we can both heal but Ellie, I can’t live without you. So we’ll never get better.”

///

You thought Ellie would come home more after your conversation. You had never felt as exposed as you had returning from the patrol. She had walked back to the house with you, arms just barely brushing when you walked.

You hadn’t even made it in the door when she was pinning you against the wall, her face pressed into your neck. She had kissed her way down your body, undressing you tenderly. You hadn’t ever experienced this gentleness from her and you had to choke back the tears that welled in your eyes.

It had been so long since someone had been gentle with you that you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

She made you cum with her mouth and when you tried to return the favor she had only pulled you close and in a move she had never made before, she hugged you close and kissed your forehead.

She left you soon after, claiming she had something she needed to do. You let her leave, your own mind on what you had to do.

You pushed into the kitchen, pulling the bottle of whiskey out from the drinks cabinet and emptied the whole thing down the drain. You winced, watching the last of it leave the bottle.

You left then and headed straight for the Tipsy Bison. Seth met you at the counter looking stern. “Three is your cut off point tonight.”

“No, I’m not- would you, could you cut me off? Altogether?” You asked him, hesitating. “Even if I ask?”

“If you’re sure?” He asked you and you nodded. He shook his head with a smile and you gave him a weak offer of a smile back. “I’ll let the others know. This is a good thing, kid.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if I believe it.” You told him and he laughed. “It’s an important thing though.”

“She’s worth every bit of it.” Seth promised and this time you laughed, amazed at how transparent you were being. “It’s time the two of you realized that.”

///

When you got home Ellie hadn’t returned. You wondered again where it was that she had been disappearing off to. You didn’t want to push her, waiting to see if she’d come to you. If things really had changed.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you found the note on your pillow.

I need you to know that I know how this looks. I know it looks like I set everything up today just to let you down again. I didn’t know that you felt the way you did. I didn’t know that you could ever love me. I’ve been planning this for a while and I hate that we got so close to being normal and I’m going to ruin it. Maybe you’re right, maybe in another life or another timeline we would’ve been happy. I’m sorry that it isn’t this one.

I need to do this.

Love always,

Ellie.

[missmarveledsblog]

Spellbinding ( sam winchester x reader )

summary : sam being completely in love with reader who happens to be his best friend while on a hunt she is hit with a curse making her needy clingy mess while sam was loving the closeness it was only temporary right?

Warnings : spells and shit , sam being simp (love that for him )

In all his life he never thought he would feel like this , at first he pegged it to being a school boy crush but it only grew . she would be the one to stay up late into the morning researching while his brother just went to the bar or bed calling them " nerds"  . she'd be the one to make sure they got sleep after realising how long they had spent nose deep in their laptops or books . she'd be the one to make sure everyone was taken care of even making sure dean didn't have a diet that consisted of fast food making them home cooked meals in the bunker . she would tease and be playful so it wasn't all work . so it was hard not to fall for her in fact what scared him was how easy it happened. the fact that dean caught on was hell in itself finding new ways to torture his brother with the new found information always pairing the two off together , the little remarks she never noticed and when she did she would brush them off as dean well being dean . hunts we're both a blessing and a curse for him when she was there . he could make sure she was safe but yet her just being there meant she was also in danger , an internal battle on which part to stick with . Like now they were walking through an abandoned asylum after report of many men going mad once they've been in the   place one way or another . now they were walking through the halls , searching for whatever it was or even a clue to what it was . she hated the abandoned hospitals and asylums they had an extra creepy feeling to them . sam knew this main reason he made sure to stay closer then usual which if he was lying he kinda took advantage of it . " ah shit " she huffed . " what , what is it " . " look the symbol we've dealt with this before " she pointed walking into the large open space that used to be a rec room . the symbols spread around the room like she said it was too familiar .

" witches " he mused. " always witches get dean here , he's a lightening rod for curses " she sighed dramatically making him laugh. " what are you doing here , your not welcome " the voice called . " listen lady , neither are you " she turned to see the raven haired woman glaring . " this is my new home and intend to keep it that way " she turned to sam as he raised his gun . he was waiting for it , to be thrown across the room it was all too regular habit but yet all he felt was her pushing him and taking the hit flying across and hitting the wall . " hey darling now that wasn't so nice of you " dean held the woman tight while cas done his thing . " hey sweetheart you ok " he called. " yeah i think so ouch how do you do that sammy " she groaned wiping the dust off of herself . " what the hell were you thinking " he yelled running to check her over. " i was thinking you'd be grateful " she smiled sweetly. " idiot you could of been killed " he chastised missing the way she was looking at him . " hey kid you ok " dean smirked seeing the sudden shift in her demeanour. " so pretty " she cooed all doe eyes and mushy as she stared at her best friend before latching on to his arm . " lets get her out of here " dean snorted seeing his brothers cheeks all flushed while Y/N was clinging to him like he was the light in the dark . " hey how you feeling slugger" dean turned see sam carrying her out on his back like a koala on a tree. " she wanted to be closer because it hurt being so far apart " he groaned. " hey you should be happy hot chick all over you " held the door open so sam could put her in the back . " cas in front "dean's shit eating grin was not helping the situation and neither was the grabby hands she was making .

They found out she was hit with a curse same one those men were hit with except in her case well she was overly clingy only when sam moved away it actually hurt her like a blinding cutting pain ran through her body when they were apart for more than 60 minutes , during the first week they found that out . " a couple of weeks and she will be back to normal she said something else but cas was playing around so we had to leave quick " dean explained while Y/N was now in sams lap almost purring like a kitten nothing like the woman before . " couple of weeks , how the hell am i going to do this for a couple of weeks " sam hissed rubbing her back when she tensed at his words. " enjoy it since your such a bitch and not telling her how you feel when she's,  well not a pussy cat " he chuckled. " do you not like the affection " cas asked confused. " i would if it was of her own accord " sam muttered feeling her head resting on his shoulder after she'd fallen asleep . " i need a shower , a quick one " he said placing her down on the sofa and putting his shit around her. " don't be long i can see her screaming again , it's painful to watch " cas walked out . " i wont , i don't like it either " sam huffed running out the room . he loved it and hated it , he loved the close contact and he affection , but he missed his partner in crime , he miss how she would talk about everything and anything with him , he missed her being his best friend . yet he love having her nuzzled so close he could smell her shampoo , he loved the feeling of her soft skin under his palms. how he could see every detail of her face , how her smiled would widen in his presence . the water cascaded down his body yet the hot water done nothing to soften the stress of the situation he loved and hated all in one . What made it worse she was going through it all because she wanted to save him , wasn't it his job to keep her safe.

"where's sammy " she whined starting to sweat as she felt the tingle beginning. " he'll be back in a minute " dean huffed. he couldn't wait for it to end , the badass smart chick he loved like a sister reduce to a needy airhead , now whining like a kid for candy. " hey how come you never told sam why she so bad " cas asked again his curious nature getting the best. " because even i know the two of them need to say it without the power of a curse and hell he'd probably short circuited. " this hurts " she sniffled but her head shot up feeling his presence near it was like her skin was burning and only he could put it out. " hey i'm back " he smiled weakly feeling her arms wrap around him tightly. " i missed you , it hurt and dean was mean" she pouted . " jesus this hard to even watch " dean rolled his eyes . " well if sam loves her i'm sure it ok " . " sammy only loves me like a friend " she pouted at cas words . " that's what you think but he's in love with you ... ouch " he winced rubbing back of his head . her head shot up and a clearing of a fog sensation. " hey when did we get back here " her voice back to levelness before . " hey sweetness aint you a sight " dean smirked only for her to roll her eyes. " she's back " he cheered. " that could of been the cure , although it's very fairy tale like" cas smiled. " what the baby in the trenchcoat is saying was that you were cursed and been on sammy there like a pimple" dean explained making her realise where her hands were . " oh shit sorry " she back off cheeks flushing at the close proximity . " it's ok really " he smiled sheepishly. " so how did we break it " she asked . " i told you how sam really felt and OWWW " Castiel cried . " hey why you hit him " she ran to the angel checking him over. " oh fuck it, knowing sam loved you like truly loved you broke it , the reason she was so affected is because she loves you too " dean yelled. " do i hit him now " cas whispered . " you love me " they both said at same time . " lets give them some room " dean led castiel out of the room while the two stood stunned at the information. " wait did he just confess for us " she asked dumbfounded. " i think he did " sam stood closer wrapping his arms around her waist. " didn't you get enough " she teased turning to face him fully arms going on his shoulder. " but this time its because i know you love me " he smiled leaning his forehead on hers . " shame it wasn't a kiss breaking curse " . " i think we can change that " she couldn't respond because soon as the words left his mouth he crashed his lips on her. kissing her like she was the only source of oxygen . every part of her being felt alive and awake like never before . they melted together like two missing pieces finally connecting. lost souls lost in the dark finding the light. " i love you so much " he chuckled happy to finally being able to say the words .

"hey thought the curse was broken " bobby asked looking as she sat perched in sam's lap while he was looking through research . " it did " she smiled holding up her book she was using . " they love each other and do sick  sweet shit like this now " dean rolled his eyes . " oh stop being a baby i've seen you cuddle your car " she snorted. " i have too " castiel nodded. " well glad to have you back kid" bobby smiled getting himself a cup of coffee. sam on other hand sat smiling happily now he had the woman he loved back , the one who talked to him constantly , his best friend and now his girlfriend .