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wandanatsub · 1 day ago

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At least once more, as always

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda finds a new spell in the Darkhold and wants to try it out.

Tags: Somnophilia, dub con (is reader there voluntarily? I don't know), magic (cock), stretching, overstimulation, breeding kink, pet names for reader (sweetheart, baby, angel), mommy kink, slight dacryphilia, no pronouns used for reader

Words: 3k

Find it on AO3 or others like it

I was thinking about how Wanda would wake you with morning sex and then my brain just did its thing at 2am. This took way longer to edit than I thought, but I'm happy with this for now so posting before it stays in my draft for another month..

The bed was warm when Wanda finally joined you, but sleep was the last thing on her mind.

She pulled the sheet off the bed and was rewarded with the sight of your naked body. Even asleep, Wanda knew you were always ready and waiting for her, whether you were aware of it or not.

She began with lightly brushing her fingers over your naked body, making sure you were still fast asleep. Then she pressed a bit harder, especially around your thighs and hips. Her hand snaked around your throat and massaged your pulse points. She teased your nipples and pulled on them.

Your breathing changed, but you were still sleeping. She checked, loving that her treatment was reflected in your dream.

After a while, she let her fingers drift down to your folds and pushed through them, feeling the wetness seep out of you. You were wet enough for her to put her plans into action.

And now for the second part of her plan. Wanda spoke another short incantation and started to slowly thrust into you. She wondered at what point you would wake and shiver of excitement ran down her back, making her thrusts a little deeper. Would the continued stretch of your hole would wake you up before her cock became thicker than her fist?

Before she pulled you close, she spoke the incantation and rubbed her clit. With the last word, a cock appeared between her legs. Her hand easily fit around it, as planned.

She turned you on your back. Your face was beautifully calm, a small smile on her lips if Wanda saw it correctly. Her fingers slid down to your thighs, grabbing hold at your knees and pulled them apart to slide closer towards you. She settled your legs over her hips, her cock right at your seeping entrance. She pushed in easily, groaning as she could feel her cock inside your warm and soft pussy.

Every passing second made her cock expand, slow enough to not be recognizable at the moment, but soon you'd notice the stretch. The slow process also gave her the chance to fuck you for a while before you'd wake up.

Wanda started with easy slow thrusts. You were so wet that she felt no resistance at all., though she could feel it starting to build. She fingered your clit to keep the abundance of wetness coming, not wanting to hurt you. Yet. She kept thrusting, checking in on your dream to find her dream-self lazily fucking into dream-you, your blissed-out face mirroring reality.

Wanda kept fucking into you. Once her cock had grown enough, the resistance was noticeable, your walls gripping onto her. Gods, she loved the way you felt around her, the pressure gradually increasing, turning her on more every second.

She had to put more strength into her thrusts, holding onto your hips to push into you. Your dream-self had started to moan her name, slowly bleeding into reality, as she could hear you trying to form words. On a particular powerful thrust, going as deep as she could, your eyes suddenly popped open with you screaming out her name.

Wanda kept thrusting into you with all her power, relishing in the squeeze of her cock while pushing your hips into the mattress. Your hands came up to claw at her. To make her stop or will her to keep going, you weren’t sure.

Waking up to Wanda pushing into you with her thick cock had left you reeling, barely comprehending what was happening. But Wanda gave you no time to catch up. The squelching sound of Wanda forcing herself into your pussy filled the air.

"I've been fucking you for a while, but I’m glad you've finally decided to join the show."

"Yes, take me, pet."

She leaned down to pull your wrists above your head, brushing her nose up your throat to whisper in your ear.

"Gotta get you so wet for me, baby, more than ever before. I'm trying this little spell. Can you figure it out?"

Shivers ran through your whole body. Your hips tried to press up into the witch above you, desperately looking for more friction but Wanda slowed her thrusts, though only because she struggled to push into you all the way.

Her hand flew back to your clit, feeling your pussy give way to her. You squeezed your eyes shut, there were too many sensations. You needed to cum, because you needed this to be over. It was torture, lighting your body on fire, raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

And she kept thrusting into you, your brain nearly exploding while trying to make sense of her words and not pass out from the heavenly pressure between your legs.

You felt your orgasm creeping up on you. It hadn't been the first time Wanda had stretched you out, and it always felt great. But her waking you up already inside you felt intense. You wanted to cum so badly. Cum for her. Stretched around her cock.

"Please, more. I need-"

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, more is what this is all about. I'm gonna stretch you out until all you can do is cum on my cock."

You were glad Wanda had let you come so easily, not even making you ask for permission. Your hands let go of the headboard and found her hips, trying to push her off of you. The orgasm hat felt amazing but you needed a break.

The thought, paired with Wanda's hard thrusts, sent you over the edge easily, squeezing her cock like a vice. She moaned, her hips temporarily thrusting out of rhythm.

She slowed down until you stopped clenching around her, not wanting to cum until she had you at your breaking point. It helped you catch your breath. Though you could still feel the stretch, you felt relaxed, the pleasure-high fogging up your thoughts.

Wanda took hold of your wrists again and kept pushing into you.

“What makes you think I’m done with you, baby?” Her overly sweet voice made you realize you might be in trouble.

Wanda quickened her thrusts again, pleasure filled your body without your permission though you knew better than to fight it or her. You would enjoy her treatment so much more when you gave into her fully. If Wanda’s thrusts kept coming, so would you. Might as well enjoy it.

Something felt different though. Like she had gotten bigger, stretching you more and-

Oh.

Now her words made sense.

A loud whine escaped your lips.

"Yes, more, please, more, Wanda. Please, please, make me stretch for you."

Wanda knew you had finally understood.

By now, she was almost as thick as her fist. Her thoughts drifted back to a week ago, when you had asked her to fist you. Wanda pushed the image and feeling of you squeezing her hand, only her wrist visible between your legs, covered in cum and lube to the elbow, into your thoughts.

The mental image and the pressure of her thick cock pushed you over the edge again. Your whole body went rigid, muscle tension pulling your body away from the mattress, pushing into the pleasure and overstimulation.

Wanda kept up her rhythm this time, pounding into you, holding onto your hips, pushing herself as deep as possible. You didn't know when your second orgasm turned into the third, but you wouldn’t care if you lost all feeling in your physical body as long as the fireworks of pure ecstasy kept exploding.

"One more, baby, give me one more." The words pushed through the haze in your mind. And you felt yourself nod. One more orgasm and you could rest.

Wanda blew hot air on your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you, but you writhed underneath her anyway.

Wanda had paused her thrusts, waiting for you to return to reality, but her cock had gotten thicker again.

Your orgasm had spread your wetness over your thighs, her thighs and the bedspread, but neither of you cared.

"More, Wan, please." Your words were slurred, but Wanda understood them anyway.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You are doing so well. Just give me one more. Can you do that for me, baby?"

You nodded again, moving your hips against hers, pushing yourself onto her thick cock.

Wanda was in awe. She had trained you so well.

"That's it, baby, keep going, fuck yourself on my cock. You can't get enough of it, can you? You're so wet and open for me, made to be stretched by my thick cock."

You whined, not able to push yourself all the way onto Wanda's cock anymore, resulting in quick, shallow frustrating thrusts. You were stretched beyond anything you had ever experienced. You wanted more, needed more. Needed Wanda, her help, needed her to push deeper into you. All thoughts had left your head. All you could think about was Wanda. The witch liked it that way.

"Aww, my pretty baby can't do it without my help? Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll show you how to fuck a precious little angel like you."

You winced at the first deep thrust. Wanda's thumb found your clit and swept over it again and again. The stretch became easier to handle but it couldn't quench the frustrated arousal sweeping through your whole body. With all your strength, you wrapped your legs around Wanda's back and pulled her as close as you could.

"Harder. Please, Wan. Please, mommy, fuck me."

Hearing that title from your lips nearly pushed Wanda over the edge.

Nails dug into your hips, making you cry out. Wanda pushed into you as hard as she could, slamming her pelvis into yours with every thrust, but you didn't care. The pleasure exploded in your body, reaching every tiny nerve ending.

"Come for me, baby. Come on mommy’s cock."

Your orgasm ripped through you, only increasing once you felt Wanda's cock erupt in thick spurts of cum, stretching you even more. Your breathing stopped while your body tried to contain all the pleasure. All your nerve endings were fired up, sending ecstasy back to your center, the sensations concentrated on the stretch of your walls around Wanda's cock, pulling you into another orgasm.

It took a while to free yourself from the haze in your brain. You barely registered Wanda speaking words in another language, then the continued stretch stopped.

Wanda waited until your eyes fluttered open again, finding hers.

"Good morning, baby. Sleep well?"

Her lips pulled into a grin. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, if at all possible. But as soon as your brain found words, her thumb swiped over your clit, circling it, shooting pleasure through your abused nerves. You whined, your hands shooting out to grip her wrist. Wanda was still inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits.

"Ah ah ah, baby, hands to yourself. I just want to make this easier for you."

Your grip on her wrist didn't lessen, but you didn't have the strength to stop her anyway. Wanda brushed quick little circles over your clit, making your eyes roll back. Your hips lifted of their own volition, still chasing her touch, but she chose that moment to slowly pull out of you.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Stretching you out had been ecstatic, but this feeling was agonizing. Her thumb pressed over your clit, your walls releasing her cock, bit by bit. Using magic could’ve definitely make this process easier for you, but Wanda wasn’t really looking to make it easier for you.

She pulled out slowly, slower really than she had to, but she loved seeing your walls all stretched around her, your clit fluttering under her thumb.

"You're doing so well for me, sweetheart. Be good, and don't fight it, baby."

Your body couldn’t decide between whines, cries and moans, letting it all out. Wanda basked in the display of pleasure and pain. She loved how your body writhed underneath her, constantly switching between pulling her closer and pushing her away.

Wanda was in total control of your body, just the way she liked it. Her fingers slid up your stomach to your breast and started to toy with your nipples, squeezing and pulling on them. All the painful sensations combined into a pleasure wave, slowly drifting over you.

She paused the movement of her hips for a few seconds, cruelly tracing your thin walls around her cock. Your whines turned into sobs, your body practically vibrating with all the sensations, until she finally took pity on you. Her thumb returned to your clit, the other hand held onto your squirming hips. Her lips found your ear, praising you in hushed tones as she finally pulled out of you.

A final small orgasm pulled out of you, relief flooding your whole body.

Without her cock inside you, your combined cum started flooding out of you, soaking the sheets underneath you.

Wanda's finger swirled through it and pushed some of it back into your stretched entrance. You whined and tried to pull away from her.

"Stay still, baby. I can't have all of this sweetness go to waste. Have to plug you up next time, to make sure to keep all of my cum inside."

Your struggle quickly faded. Your body was overwhelmed, unable, and unwilling to fight Wanda. After all, she knew what was best for you.

Four wet fingers easily pushed the cum back into you, her thumb finding your clit, overstimulation sending you into another quick orgasm, squeezing weakly around her fingers.

"Good job, baby, let me fill you up."

Wanda pulled you closer by your hips, propping your ass up onto her thighs. Your legs fell open, exposing your wide entrance to Wanda's hungry gaze. Your body felt heavy, too heavy to really move, but you knew Wanda would handle your body into any position she wanted it. You didn’t have to think about moving or anything besides breathing, though your body mostly managed that on its own.

"You're perfect like this, sweetheart, all open and ready for me."

Even though you were still incredibly overstimulated, Wanda's praise could easily push you into compliance.

"Wanna be good for you, mommy." Your whispers were barely loud enough to be heard, but Wanda would've caught them over the sounds of bombs raining from the sky.

"Then just lay still and let me fill you up, baby. Gotta make sure my seed takes root."

Your eyes fluttered, and it became difficult to keep them open. You caught glimpses of Wanda stroking her cock eagerly, staring at your freshly fucked pussy.

"Fill me up, mommy, want you to breed me."

Wanda loved you. She really did. Especially when you were fucked-out exhausted but still so incredibly horny. She was glad she hadn't managed to fuck that out of you yet.

She stroked herself while slowly circling your clit, delighted to see your pussy quivering, trying and failing to squeeze around anything. You couldn’t move a muscle even if you wanted to. Wanda would fuck you for as long as she wanted to, so there was no reason for you to move anyway.

The sight in front of her and the thought of breeding you finally pushed her into her second orgasm of the morning. The first ropes of cum landed over your stomach and hips. She kept fisting her cock and aimed at your still gaping entrance, the rest of her cum dripped into you.

Her thumb brushed your clit, making you squeeze around her cum.

Another short but intense orgasm made sure her cum stayed where it should and brought silent tears to your eyes.

"So good for me baby, you did so well. I love how hungry your pussy is for my cum. Love to see my little angel clench around nothing but my cum."

A smile bloomed on your face, and Wanda brushed away the tears from your cheek, mixing with the cum still on her thumb.

"Such a pretty angel. Cry for me, baby."

Crying after an intense orgasm wasn't new for you. And this had been the most intense experience of your life, so Wanda wasn't surprised by your reaction. The fact that it turned her on even more was also a benefit. The tears kept falling, and Wanda kept brushing them away, smiling down at you.

"Getting my thumb all wet, baby, and wet fingers are only good for one thing."

Her featherlight touch had barely left your face when you felt it once again on your clit. You stiffened. You couldn't. Not again. It was too much.

"Can you give me one more, angel? Just one more, and then you can sleep, I promise. Just have to make sure that you take mommy's cum as deep as you can."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were sure this wasn't necessary to get you pregnant, whether she had cum inside you, tip pushed against your cervix, or masturbating over your gaping hole.

Your body fought against overstimulation. You wanted to be good for Wanda. To give her what she wanted. She was relentless, brushing over your clit. Quietly praising you. Telling you about all the other ways she wanted to breed you until you were finally pregnant and maybe even after that.

Your body slowly came alive again, pleasure reaching out its fingertips.

"Look at me, baby."

Wanda waited until your eyes fluttered open and anchored onto her own. She smiled at you, then looked down at your abused pussy and let her spit drip onto your clit. Your eyes rolled back, and your body quivered under her presence.

With the last vestiges of her sanity intact, Wanda pulled up your hips until her tongue could reach your clit. It barely took a few licks to catapult you into one last orgasm, long and intense, Wanda sucking on your clit throughout until you finally lost all strength in your body.

She carefully lowered you, pulled a pillow under your hips to keep them inclined, and finally laid down next to you, pulling you into her arms.

"Sleep, baby. You did so well for mommy, I’m so proud of you."

You barely registered the praise before you lost consciousness and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you

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aninipanin1 · 3 days ago

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MY BUMBLEBEE

Notes: Nothing just pure fluff and a lil jealousy, This is Miss Manager Junior btw:> And I got this idea from MemeSuga01's book titler "Blue Lock Specials" Special 18 in Wattpad! Please check out their books and account. They make really good stories!

"Bachira-san-"

"Y/N!!!!"

You were tackled with a hug that almost knocked the wind out of you. There were times like these where you remembered that Bachira was like the rest of the players in the facility, absolutely tall and built.

"Um...hi, how may I help you..?"

"Nothing! I just wanted to hug you!! You don't visit our stratum much anymore hmp!!"

He pouted, arms still around your neck as he happily cheered and tattled whatever was in his mind away. Seeing the excited look in Bachira's eyes made you quite happy and a bit guilty if you were to interrupt with whatever he was saying, so you nodded your head at whatever he was saying, even if it does not make sense at times.

As he talked, arms still around you, you started to let your eyes wonder about his features. You never noticed it, but the yellow in his hair was really bright and matched his pretty eyes. You think deep down that everyone has really pretty eyes, but the ones in the Blue Lock's facility take the cake, the variety of colors are all comparable to literal gems.

Bachira's looked like one of an amber, one preserved after so many years because of its shine and beauty. But it's not just beautiful but resilient as well, surviving whatever weather, temperature or disaster may occur around it. And it's not that far from Bachira's own story.

As you thought deeper, you then noticed how the black part of his hair mixed well with his yellow hair and eyes. He looks like a honeybee! Or even a-

"Bumblebee..." You ditzily whispered, not knowing you said it outloud, and unfortunately for you, Bachira heard it too.

"Eh? What did you say, Y/n-chan?" He tilted his head, his arms loosening a bit around your neck. Your ears and cheeks immediately flushed in embarrassment thay you said something so embarrassing out loud without a thought.

'Stupid Y/n...'

"Aww cmon Y/n-chan! What was it?"

"I..I said...you looked like a honeybee...I mean...I think you look closer to a bumblebee because of your personality! And because bumblebees are so chubby and cute and-" you covered your mouth, catching yourself talking too much again. There were moments like these where you would forget that you were talking to someone and you needed to filter out your words, and would instead talk their ears off with your unfiltered thoughts.

But, instead of being mad like you thought, Bachira's cheeks turned really pink before he hugged you even tighter than before.

"Aww Y/n-chan!! You're so cuteeee!! I like that nickname so much! I like it!" He cheered, jumping around as his arms were still around you making you a bit dizzy, before blinking at his words.

"Really? You don't mind I called you bumblebee?"

"Nope! I like it! Say, say, do you have nicknames like that for the others?" He asked, his smile still wide and the same but his eyes held some sort of hidden agenda. And he desperately wished that you only had a nickname for him and no one else.

"Uh nope! It just came out of me...!"

With that answer, his eyes became even brighter. He felt really special that you called him that, especially since bumblebee sounded so cute in his ears, giving him tingles on his heart.

"Sooo can you start calling me Bumblebee instead of Bachira-san?" He said excitedly, and you, being so oblivious at his hidden agenda immediately nodded at the idea. After all, you liked cute things and cute nicknames to your friends made you so happy and satisfied.

"Okay! You're my bumblebee from now on, Bachira-san!"

"Yay! I'm your bumblebee!!"

What you did not expect however was the reaction that the supposed innocent and cute nickname you gave the yellow and brown-haired striker.

You currently joined the boys in eating their lunch. Every Sunday, all the boys would share a cafeteria to eat lunch together for the sanitization of the other's they use everyday and for better bonding moments too (althoug Ego hides the latter reason). Picking your food tray, you tried to find a good spot to sit and enjoy your food. As always most of the tables had a vacant seat (which most would leave open in hopes you'd choose their table and sit with them).

But, before you can find a seat, you found Bachira entering the cafeteria and him being him, immediately ran to you and greeted you. He looked to be happier than he usually is, and he was. Deep down, Bachira was quite happy and flustered at the nickname you gave him. Even if a few hours had passed and training had done and went, he still could not keep it off his mind.

He really liked the way your tongue said his name, but the tone, the sheepish mutter of the word "bumblebee," calling to him and him alone made him feel so jittery and excited in a different way that he ever felt before.

"Hi Y/n-chan!!"

"Hi Bachira-san! Are you going to eat yet?"

"Awww...why did you call me that?"

He pouted at you, a little disappointed that you did not call him the nickname you gave him. Mostly because he really did like it and wanted you to call him that always, but also because he knew that the rest of the boys were listening and wanted you to call him thay in front of them to indirectly tell them that he was really special to you.

Tilting your head, you were a little confused as to what he was talking about until you remembered the conversation you had with him earlier. Your eyes brightened at the memory and looked a bit apologetic for forgeting.

"Oh, I forgot...'m so sorry, Bachira-san- I mean, my bumblebee!"

Crickets and silence.

That was all that was heard in the cafeteria the moment you called Bachira the nickname. The conviction and softness in your voice when you called him along with the sweet meaning that the nickname held, with the addition of the 'my' in the beginning made it feel so personal and possessive.

It can even be a nickname one gives to their significant other. And that did not sit right with them.

"Eh..? Did I say something wrong?" You wondered as you sat beside Bachira in the large table most of your friends sat in, yes even people like Rin, Barou and Kunigami who didn't think they were 'friends.'

"No fair, why does he get a nickname, while I don't Y/n-chan?" Nagi said from the other side of your chair as he rested his head on your shoulder, looking up at you with his sleepy eyes that held some sort of hidden conviction and annoyance.

"Yeah, Nagi's right, Y/n-chan! I want a nickname too!" Hiori raised his hand.

"Me too! Me too!" Kurona pitched softly.

"When did you even start calling Bachira that, Y/n-chan?" Isagi asked, feeling the familiar green face of jealousy. The question made you smile softly, because you thought that the nickname was just for friends, finding it absolutely adorable.

"I was talking with Bachira-san earlier this morning, and I kinda uttered how he looked like a bumblebee because bumblebees are so cute, fuzzy and chubby and his personality feels like one! So we agreed his nickname from me will be bumblebee from now on. Isn't it cute?" The happy and satisfied look in your face lessened the annoyance they felt to the brunette striker who just ate happily beside you.

"Yeah, cute." Rin said, his tone hid a sassy and annoyed tone.

"Can I still get a nickname, Y/n-chan?" Nagi asked, his stubbornness shining through at such a trivial thing. But to him, it was less than trivial. He wanted a personalize nickname from you, one that felt special to him especially because it was coming from you.

"Eh really? Um okay...uh you can be Ice Bear from We Bare Bears! You remind me of him, Nagi-san!" You offered with a bright smile. Finding his snow white hair, tall build and lazy personality mirroring the cute bear character.

Nagi seemee satisfied enough with the nickname, finding it endearing, but most especially because it came from you.

"Yay...I'm your Ice Bear."

Everyone else frowned at that, even Bachira who wanted to be the only one who had a nickname. But, hey he was not selfish like thay so he just continued eating.

And with that, the rest of the guys on the table started to ask you for nicknames too. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, you felt so happy and excited in giving them the silliest and cutest nicknames your mind can think of. You feel like your inner kid (that you lack) was brought out by the moment, and well, you loved your friends so you were more than happy to give each of them a nickname!

"Um...Rin-san can be Keroppi...!"

The rest of the boys laughed at the comparison between Keroppi and Rin.

"Rin-chan is not cute at all like Keroppi!" Bachira laughed as the rest agreed, pissing Rin off.

"Hmm, I don't know why I called Rin-san Keroppi, but it just sounds right to me! My Keroppi!" At the final sentence, Rin's full cheeks from his food turned red in a snap, almost choking on his food due to being so flustered and shocked at the nickname.

"Um, and this is ashi which means leg!"

You were currently holding a newspaper that Loki tried reading and explained what some of the worrd meant, since he was curious. But to your suprise, all the foreign players crowded next to you to listen to the explanation. Sure, they were not really thay ready to learn another language altogether, but they were curious and spending time with you at the same time was not exactly a bad combo.

On the field sat Lorenzo, Ness, Charles, Loki and Kaiser around you as you pointed at the words that was foreign to all of them as you slowly explained each of the symbol and what it meant. They were listening, well until Rin entered the field to look for you. And well, you made a mistake in acknowledging him in the new nickname you gave to them infront of the foreign players.

"Oh um sorry, my Keroppi! I'll start doing the laundry later!" As if clockwork anytime you used that word, Rin turned a bright red before leaving the field to try and cool off and try to find a way to not get flustered like a damn fuse everytime you use that nickname.

But, the rest of the players noticed the rather cute nickname and well, they were less than pleased and more envious.

"Ehhh why does Rin-Rin have a cute nickname from you but I don't? Y/n-chaaannn please give me one too!!" Charles said as he clung to your arm.

"Eh..?"

"I agree with the kid, Y/n." Michael said with a smirk. You felt like a trapped mouse under the expecting gaze of the players. Loki noticed this and sighed before hitting Charles's head which made the midfielder let out an 'ow.'

"Don't harass her, you fools. If she wants, she'll give us one. Geez."

"Uh thank you, Loki-san. But it's really fine! I'll give you guys nicknames too!" You started to think for one as they all watched you, then you looked at Charles and fangs when a genius strike hit your head.

"Charles-san can be Meowth from Pokemon!"

"Yey! I'm fine with that! Thank you, Y/n-chan!"

He said as he hugged you even tighter which just made you smile, but when you turned to Kaiser, you remembered a memory about the time Isagi was ranting to you about Kaiser.

"Yeah, and he even has that annoying rat-hair! I hate him SO much, Y/n-chan!"

The word rat repeated in your head, and a character appeared in your head, but before you can filter your thoughts into words, you said what you thought out loud.

"Jaq-jaq from Cinderella."

And well, the entire field ended up in laughter. Loud and hard laughter. Even Ness could not help the chuckle that left his mouth, remembering the familiar mouse character.

And well, that pissed Kaiser a bit. Which made you panic a bit.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Kaiser-san! I just remember Isagi-san calling you a rat and well...it ran in my mind..."

"HAHAHHAA IT FITS! HOLY SHIT IT FITS!" Lorenzo laughed and hugged his stomach which made Kaiser even angrier.

"Shut up! You are more of a rat than I am!"

"I'm sorry! Pfftt-" Loki said as he continued laughing, meanwhile Charles had tears in his eyes from laughter. Was it just from the nickname? Or even from the way you said it with such seriousness and conviction that made them laugh?

"Ehhh 'm so sorry, Kaiser-san..." you said, animated tears running down your face because, well an angry Kaiser was a scary Kaiser.

"Its fine, dear...but if just some of you will shut up!" He said with pointed looks at Lorenzo and Charles.

In the end, you settled with Kaiser being Cinnamoroll in your eyes. Finding his aesthetic and his hair color similar to the color scheme of the cute character.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

BLUE LOCK TV COMMENT SECTION:

User01: Awww but Kaiser fits the first nickname better🥺

Reply:

-> user02: right?! My favourite part of today's episode AHAHHAHA

User03: I want more behind the scenes moment wth?! Cmon editors and directors! I wanna see more of these moments lmao

User04: I don't think the Blue Lockers themselves, the directors and even the editors can deny that theyre all whipped for Miss Manager

-> User06: I super agree! Like, anyone with eyes can see that Miss Manager built herself a reverse harem in that place

User05: Nagi as Ice Bear is actually a really good nickname for him, but the Keroppi with Rin took me out for a bit LMAO maybe his behind the scenes personality is a bit more different to be guaranteed that nickname?

LMAO THIS ONE TOOK ME OUT but like help me out here, I wanna use these nicknames in the futhre so please do comment what you think the nicknames for the other Blue Lock players can be because I legit ran out of brainjuice just to think about it. But also, in the future Additional times I wiuld be putting the Blue Lock TV commment section buuut as a twist, I would be using some of my followers' username (if thats fine with you guys huhu) as the usernames, it would be used as some sort of shoutout and all, but also as a small thank you for all of you!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

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shiftingwitholiver · 14 hours ago

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aaaahhh okay i just found this and i kinda wanna do it so here goes :D

part 1:

it's an original situation based around living in a small town by the sea with my boyfriend and getting to have a happy life that is suitably quiet. i really really want to live somewhere by the ocean (i have an odd yearning and fascination for the sea) so i've been thinking this dr up for a while. it's mostly getting chips and walking on the beach and painting and snuggling up next to my boyfriend with a hot chocolate and a disney film.

i think i'm most excited to go to the beach and call my boyfriend

i dunno, something to do with the ocean? acedamia of some sort? perhaps lighthousecore is the way to descibe it? (all of these different -core's are staring to annoy me)

my favorite place is either the beach or my boyfriends house

i have't really scripted many scenarios, but the one i do have is one time me and my boyfriend go to the beach for a walk and end up having a play fight, one of us gets pushed into the ocean that is starting to coming in and they pull the other in, then we stumble home, soaked but happy and dry off.

part 2:

Olive, this isn't my name in this reality but it's the one i use for all of my drs

i'm more carefree than here, happier, i'm an artist, i'm autistic, i'm scripting out my hEDs, i like history a lot and, i dunno. i always struggle to explain who i am and what my traits are

similar to here, dark brown curly hair, blueish grey eyes, kinda short

interesting fact: i do a lot of looking for things on the beach and i have a little collection of fossils and seaglass

part 3:

i first found out about shifting because one of my friends on wattpad was a shifter (i'm not on that platform anymore and unfortunately i haven't spoken to her in years) she had a book of her journey and some shifting methods and tips

i honestly can't remember

i love alunir, a lot of people do, and before i shift i'll sometimes listen to asmr, either relating to the dr or just something calming

my favorite shifting method is something i kind of patched together myself based on what i find works for me best, i might make a post about it at some point

my main motivation is often my s/o or trying to get away from things in real life (GCSEs are kicking my arse right now)

my main tip is to just keep at it, keep enjoying it and always remember that it's okay to have your doubts, just trust that you can do it and know you found out about shifting for a reason. good luck :)

there we go haha!! been wanting to talk about this DR for a while so i'm very glad i came across this post. have a nice day/night everyone!!

~Olive

A challenge for Reality Shifters!

Reblog this post & answer these questions, you can totally skip whichever ones you want, this is just because I like hearing about other people's DRs .:)

Part 1: Your DR

What is your DR? Is it a TV show, a movie, a book, or maybe an original situation?

If your DR is based on pre-existing media, did you change anything, or did you add any details?

What are you most excited to do when you shift there?

How would you describe your DR's aesthetic?

What is your favorite place in your DR?

If you scripted scenarios, which one is your favorite?

What is your safe word/action?

Part 2: Your DR-self

What is your name in your DR?

Who are you in your DR? What are your defining traits?

What do you look like in your DR?

What do you sound like in your DR?

What's an interesting fact about your DR-self?

Part 3: Your shifting journey

How did you first find out about shifting?

What was your first shifting attempt like?

If you've shifted in the past, what was your favorite part of your DR?

If you like to use online meditations, which are your favorites?

If you like to use online subliminals, which are your favorites?

What is your favorite shifting method?

What is something that gives you motivation to shift?

What is one piece of advice you would give to other shifters?

the end :)

#reality shifting #shifting #desired reality #shifting community #reality shift #shiftblr #shifting script #shifting realities #shifting blog #dr scripting

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bapeach · 1 day ago

Text

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 9.1k+ Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making…

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious.

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face.

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest.

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment?

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well.

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat.

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through.

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay.

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”.

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers.

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her.

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her.

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response.

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes.

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in.

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.”

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about.

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now.

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face.

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk.

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell.

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back.

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave.

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.”

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease.

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone.

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level.

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more.

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support.

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand.

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out.

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around.

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room.

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile.

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family.

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.”

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment.

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person.

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face.

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match.

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug.

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”.

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly.

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant.

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts.

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this.

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face.

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out.

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt.

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned.

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game.

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime.

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.”

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside.

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers oneshot #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #nika muhl #ice brady #kk arnold #oneshot #imagine #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #wlw fanfic #bapeach writes

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trikruismybitch · 3 days ago

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Never meant...

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Implied Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill

Warnings: kinda cheating, communication? Sad just very sad lots of angst no happy endings

Summary: Natasha's been distant and you just want to know if she's okay

"Whats been going on with you?" Y/n questions softly "You've been acting distant and weird lately, is everything okay my love?" you say as you walk up to Nat touching her arm lovingly

"Yeah baby i'm fine" she gives you a smile but it strained and her tone is dismissive

You internally sigh not wanting to cause any problems but the growing distance between you guys lately has been bothering you

"I know you're not fine Nat" you look into her eyes "I can feel that you aren't 'fine' and honestly lately i've been feeling like we aren't 'fine'." You stop rubbing her arm with your thumb but you stay close still "I don't want this to be a fight but i can tell somethings genuinely wrong and i need you to talk to me about it. I'm here for you, okay baby? Whatever's going on we'll get through this together." You speak in a gentle and understanding tone. You love her so fucking much and it kills you that she's not communicating with you.

Natasha looks at you and you stare back. You start to get a nervous pit in your stomach at the way she's staring at you. Usually theres a softness to the look in her eyes but right now it feels like she's looking right past you and it's unsettling.

"Maria kissed me a month ago," Natasha says. Theres a pause before she admits, "and i liked it. I wanted her."

You take a step back as if you were physically pushed "What?" Your mind starts racing and your hearts starts beating rapidly "What are you trying to say?"

Natasha shakes her head "I pushed her away after a second, i swear! I've felt so guilty about it since it happened...and It took me awhile to admit to myself that I'm attracted to her."

Natasha's eyes pour deeply into your soul. Her unwavering gaze is met by yours, eyes slowly blinking, praying, hoping that this is a cruel dream. Your skin itches, your body feels hot.

"I-i don't know what to say..." You whisper out taking a few steps back leaning on the kitchen counter hands resting behind you "I don't know how to feel right now. I'm confused, do you have feelings for her?"

"No! I don't! I love you." Natasha waves her hands in front of herself "I just think...feel sexually attracted to her? She's funny and she makes me laugh, she's like a breath of fresh air, you know?"

You just stare at her not believing she had the balls to say that to your face, "I need to go." you mumble and start looking around for your keys. Fuck you really wish you were more organized and now its biting you in the ass.

"Y/n, baby" Natasha keeps calling out as you rummage through all the places you might've put your keys. You look at the key hook and zero in on Natasha's car keys. Natasha follows your gaze and rushes to grab the keys before you get there, "Y/n wait! What are you doing? Where are you trying to go?"

You snap "I don't know Natasha!" You yell throwing your hands up and looking around. Your eyes start to burn wanting to cry "I just know that I don't want to be around you right now. I need time to process what you've said and then we can talk okay? So please just hand me the damn keys!" you cry out frustratingly. You hold your hand out for the keys, waiting.

"I want to talk now." Natasha furrows her brows "I came to you wanting to talk this through-"

"You didn't come to me!" You point to your chest "I had to push it out of you Nat! I always do!" You wave your hands around wildly, "Whenever you're upset or somethings bothering you, you become distant and unresponsive to my attempts to engage with you. Then when i ask if you're okay- and big surprise-you lie! I had to push this out of you Natasha!" You shake your head angrily, "So do not say that 'you want to talk this through'" you use air quotes when you say that, "because you NEVER DO! I do! I'm patient and understanding with you...and all you do is lie to me in return!" You sigh out tiredly "So, please respect my wishes and let me leave." You outstretch your arm for the keys

"No, I'm sorry okay" Nat tries to take a step toward you but you shake your head as you drop your hand "I-i've been feeling so guilty about this, thats why i've been distant. I didn't want to admit...I wasn't fully upset about the kiss. And I was so angry at myself for liking it and even if i didn't kiss her back I felt like I betrayed you. I just want to fix this." She's on the verge of tears clutching the keys tightly in her hand. She doesn't want to lose you.

You shake your head, again, and rub your eyes with your hands, "I don't understand how you expect me to fix something, I didn't even know was broken in the first place Natasha" You swallow as you take a deep breathe "You're basically saying you want to fuck someone else because your tired of our relationship, how am I supposed to feel about that? Huh? All this shit is thrown at me, I know we weren't 100% but I thought we were happy, that you were happy with us."

"I love you so fucking much. I love our life together and I would never" she enunciates 'never', "throw it away to sleep with someone else" she speaks vehemently before softening her tone "I'm telling you because I know I need to be honest with you about this. You think I want to feel this way about someone else? You mean the world to me Y/n and I don't want anything to jeopardize that."

You close your eyes. Despite everything she said and how much it hurt you, a part of you understands where she's coming from, and even with everything your heart still burns for her.

You open your eyes and you try to smile but it comes out strained "I know. I love you too...but I can't promise you that what you said isn't going to affect our relationship. I appreciate the transparency but I need time Nat...please give me the keys." You ask politely

Natasha's lip quivers as she slowly gives you the keys "Where will you go?" She questions

"I don't know right now, I'll let you know later." You go to walk past her but she softly grabs your arm when you've become parallel with her.

She gives your cheek a soft kiss, "I love you." she presses her forehead against your right cheek, breathing you in before you leave. You feel her tears fall and your heart pangs sadly in your chest at the women you love, so you briefly lean against her "I love you too" you gently pry your hand from her grasp and then you leave.

Natasha watches you go. She watched as the door is slowly shut. She hears as the roar of her cars engine takes whats left of her heart. She never meant for this to happen. She never meant to hurt you. And she never meant for you to leave.

an: not proofread & this has been in the drafts for awhile. a little something to read while you wait for "Did i cross the line" part 3 👀

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fic #reader insert #angst #marvel #black widow x fem!reader #black widow x y/n #trikruwrites

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connorsui · 24 hours ago

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One little snippet from another post brought me here like it was a trail of gold I just so happen to stumble across in the middle of the forest ...unknown and tempting it took a couple of paragraphs and some crack cocaine in between the words to get me to this side of what you have presented ....

And lawd I'm glad I came here because I genuinely got myself thinking what happened to my babies and if I'm even alive or not but if I'll tell yall one thing is that whatever be happening to my body or my state of mind ..I'm just filled with happiness that they didn't get my babies

If part two ever arrives to grace our eyes and blesses us with an extra dose of whatever chems it be cooking up in the kitchen ...just know I would be by the door to read it when it first hits because ain't no way u got me like this by the chains and the dollar worth ropes to get me thinking what else gonna happen!? 🩷😭

I'm literally on my hands and knees with my delusion trying to imagine the multiple scenarios that can occur from here on out ..like happy ending? ..angst ending? ..too late? ..made it just on time? ..alive and breathing? ..traumatized and gone!?

I DONT KNOW BUT I LOVE IT

Vows That Bind Part 1

_____________________________________________

In sickness and in health, for good and for worse. That's how most wedding vows go: sweet and simple yet still carrying the subtle message of ‘I will be there for you no matter what.’ Two individuals connected by the golden bands and promises to stand behind each other like a solid wall made out of steel, unwavering in the innocence of love and devotion. Entwined souls cocooned together for the years to come, withstanding and facing whatever life throws at them. There wasn't anything to fear as long as they had each other.

Then, eventually, the little bubble of the wife and husband is expanded by the addition of offspring—an exact copy and paste of the father, a perfect clone of the mother, but ideally a mix of both parents.

A tiny duplication of sky blue eyes, dirty blond strands of hair, and that oh-so-stubborn look on their petite facades, the same one John would be making whenever he half-heartedly insisted on getting his way in the silliest mock arguments they so often had that brought a peal of full belly laughter out of their beloved sons.

The sharp brow line, upturned delicate nose, and proud mannerism of their mother, in addition to the unbeatable sad puppy stare she mastered and often used against John when he questioned her purchase of yet another set of overpriced, scented candles she just had to obsess about every time they pulled over at the local market. And John always gave in to her way because the happiness that instantly bloomed over the features of his lady-wife was enough of a reward for the man to last him as a sweet, lingering memory for the days of absence spent thousands of miles away during his deployment.

The moment when he, at last, hit the home soil, though, and was discharged on leave for the time being—nothing would stop John from catching the first better cab and running it down in the direction of the home, the car parked at the base be damned, he can pick it up some other time. His house, a little two-level cottage on the city's outskirts with a sizable garden bordering on the forest, was often visited by the wildlife his sons adored to observe.

His usual arrival time was late at night, but on rare occasions, he would get home just for dinner and then spend the entire time chatting with his sons.

John would ask his older son about his grades and friends at school and, with the younger son, about whatever he had been doing to keep his mommy busy while daddy was away. Then, he would help them get ready for bed, and after a quick goodnight kiss on his cheek, he would send them running to their rooms.

And at last, he'd turn towards his better half, standing just a few steps away, who smiled at him with an open expression, full of love and adoration for the man she chose to marry. For he was her first and last thought on her mind when she woke up and went back to sleep each day, worrying about his safety whenever he was away, and when he was close and next to her, she cherished and enjoyed every waking moment by his side.

John doubted there was ever a word that could describe the content love that flew between them, the wordless understanding. They rarely needed words while they had each other.

“I'm back,” John would say, each and every time more tenderly than before. She would answer, “Welcome back,” in a voice softer than the softest of silks.

John adored his little family. He'd do anything to keep them safe and sound, even if it meant sacrificing his happiness. He missed them terribly while away but knew it was for the greater good; his work was necessary. He made sure that the danger of the world would never reach home again, not after the Piccadilly Circus incident.

×××

Like many times before, John was at his home base, passively partaking in a briefing of the upcoming training exchange the upper management wanted Task Force 141 to oversee.

Sighting, John scratched the base of his neck and finally announced the end of the meeting. The scraping of chairs against the floor panels and agreeable murmurs from the gathered soldiers followed.

He stood up from the not-so-comfortable meeting room chair and was about to head towards the rest of the Task Force lads when his work phone vibrated with a singular notification. He immediately took it out and unlocked the screen to look at the message from Laswell:

»THERE WAS A SECURITY BREACH. CLASSIFIED INFORMATION WAS COMPROMISED.«

He was about to ask her for further explanation when his personal phone began to ring. Frowning, as not many people had the privilege of being in possession of his private phone number, he pulled it out of his pocket. ‘My Love’ was plastered on the screen, an even odder scene unfolding, as his wife rarely called during his work hours, and only occasional texts were sent his way. He put his work phone aside, and without further fanfare, John picked up the call right where he stood:

“Love, is everything okay–?”

“Daddy, are you coming to get us? Mommy told us to stay hidden; bad people are coming,” his eldest son sniffled quietly. She said not to come out and to call you when one hour passes.”

John's blood turned ice cold, freezing him momentarily, almost letting the phone fall out of his hand.

His family was in danger.

It was an electrifying spasm that went down his spine and shook him out of his stupor and into action. “I'm coming, son. Papa is coming,” he said firmly, signing to Ghost standing nearby ‘Home, emergency, invasion, ready the unit.’.

»RECEIVED. HEADING OUT TO ANSWER A DISTRESS CALL FROM HOME. FIND OUT WHO MESSED UP. OR I WILL.«

×××

The ride to his home with his men armed from their feet to the tips of their heads felt like a fever dream and a nightmare combined. None of the men dared say a word to him, not while he kept the line his children were on alive.

Even Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, the never-ending stream of chatting during the way to the mission, kept quiet, observing Price with barely hidden worry. Price hated worry; he hated pity, primarily directed at him, but these men he was with were the only ones who could look at him in such a way. And this was precisely one of such occasions.

There was a security breach into the classified systems, and one of the items stolen was intel about their Captain's private life—a life not even they had access to. To think that somebody who didn't mean well got a hold of it and targeted Price's bundle of happiness is an unredeemable crime people will die for committing.

At last, they arrived in front of the little cottage Price deemed a scorched ground. A scorched ground his men did not let him step on, insisting that they will sweep through just in case, while Price gets a hold of his children's hidden place and gets them into the safety of the bulletproof, heavy army vehicle.

He had no other choice but to stomp towards the little bunker-like area he told his wife about as a just-in-case emergency situation he had hoped to God that never would come to pass. Oh, how wrong he was.

As soon as he opened the lid to the hideout, two pairs of hands tackled his legs, clinging to his pants for dear life. His stoic facade quivered, and dropping to his knees, John gathered the sobbing kids to his chest. He picked them up, stood up, turned around, and carried them toward the vehicle under the watchful gaze of his fellow men.

A subtle movement from the corner of his eye had Price turning his head towards the veranda, where Kyle “Gaz” Garrick waved at him to catch his attention. He raised a brew at the young man. ‘Traces of struggle, blood, no body.’ They took her. They took his wife.

John glanced down at his sons and snuggled them closer to his chest, his face unreadable. Price nodded at the sergeant and continued his solemn march, already beginning to formulate a plan of action in his head.

Whomever it was, wherever they were, Price would find them.

_____________________________________________

a/n: still getting used to writing a "you" POV, especially from third person perspective, so bear with me, k? Great, good night 💀💀

Tag list: @catinpinklace @gothghostiie

#john price #john price x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #consui says sum

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hwaslayer · 1 day ago

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wildfire (cs) | 11.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 0.8k

—chapter content/warnings: not much!! something a lil more tame lol, prob one of the 0.5s that takes place right after the chapter beforehand, i promise there is no ill intention behind what's happening here - they're both equally torn about everything as san's good friends/colleagues

namjoon: you got a minute to meet up today? sorry for the last minute request but it's kinda urgent.

jongho: sure. i'm wrapping up. can meet you in the next 15 mins?

namjoon: i'll come to you.

jongho: alright then, boss.

Jongho continues typing away at his desk, responding to all the emails that came in today while he was off doing interviews for the new open faculty role in the electrical engineering department. He makes a mental note to submit his review sheet for the first round of interviewees and to review the applications for the next round tomorrow. He doesn't realize how quick 15 minutes flies by until Namjoon is swinging his door open mid-email. He continues to type away, but his eyes shift to Namjoon's figure as he fixes his blazer and takes a seat with a loud sigh.

"Long day?" Jongho cracks a small smile, typing up the last few details before sending it off and shifting his attention to Namjoon in front of him.

"Kinda." He nods towards his computer. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt or delay you from leaving."

"All good. Didn't really have plans, anyway. What's up? You seem a little flustered."

"Well, catching Yunho, Iseul and San arguing in a conference room wasn't exactly on my agenda for today."

"What?" Jongho cocks his head back a bit in disbelief, brows tightly knitted together as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. San had been giving him a bit of the story here and there and knowing Iseul, he wasn't exactly surprised this is how things were playing out.

He's just not sure why Iseul thinks it's her business to air this all out.

"You tell me."

"As much as I would love to help, I honestly have no idea what's going on.”

"Jongho."

"What? You know how Iseul is. She somehow still thinks she has a grip on San even after they've divorced and gone through all of that. Can't stand her, if you ask me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. But, why? Why is this a thing right now?"

"Beats me." Jongho tries to brush it off even though he can see the look on Namjoon's face, his eyes trying to study him like a damn book. He hates being in the middle because as much as he loves and supports his bestfriend, he also has the utmost respect for Namjoon and knows the guy will always be on their side regardless.

"That's the first in a very long time that I've seen San react that way at the happy hour event."

"Okay, to be fair, the guy was getting super disrespectful. I think any of us would've reacted in one way or another."

"Right, I agree. But, I know there's a story behind it. I know his anger was fueled by something else." Jongho sees the way Namjoon is going about this. He's prying for the answers he already knows, but he needs the confirmation and Jongho can give him that.

It's just a matter of when.

"What if it was just a bad day?"

"Okay, you know what?" Joon leans onto the arm rest of the chair and gives him a look. "I'm just gonna go headfirst with it." Jongho cocks a brow up. "Is there something going on with San and his rotation student? Y/N specifically." He sighs.

"I figured."

"No, you knew." Namjoon chuckles a bit.

"I don't know. I really can't tell you because I don't know anything." Jongho says he knows nothing when he knows everything.

"Jongho." Joon repeats.

"Joon, swear." He says, even though he tries to sit as still as possible. Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

It started gradually before it took off completely. Jongho knows about the last minute meetings San has had to take, Jongho has seen the subtle glances, the subtle actions, the mood changes when you're around. Jongho remembers seeing you slip out of his hotel room very early that morning during the NAS conference. Jongho remembers seeing the polaroid slightly tip out of the wallet case mid-breakfast and seeing a tiny slip of your face in his peripherals. San quickly adjusted the polaroid and continued on like nothing, wishing for the best with that one.

And he doesn't have to be told to know you've been over multiple times. All the calls that have gone curt and short, the distraction easily laced in San's voice on the other line. He remembers the faint trace of your perfume in his home, the little post-it notes you've left on San's office desk.

Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

Cause, yes.

"I can hear your thoughts."

Well, shit.

"I don't know what to say."

"I need you to tell me yes or no, that's all. I need to make sure I'm going about this correctly even though I heard a lot today alone." Jongho sighs and sees how torn Namjoon is. They both are. They obviously want what's best for San, and they both want him to be happy. He is deserving of good, genuine love. He is deserving of genuine happiness because he always rides for the people he loves, goes the extra mile for them. He acknowledges and learns from his mistakes, he apologizes when he knows he's at fault.

He's deserving of all good.

So, they both hate that it has to come to this because it's not even you that's the problem. It's the situation, and they both don't know how to approach it with enough sensitivity and care.

Even though it's good to San, it doesn't necessarily mean it could be good for San.

"Yes."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

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pali-and-proud · 1 day ago

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Finale Thoughts

This is a very special thank you to all the Fast Passers. Y'all did amazing, truly, because I actively read anything and everything without any attempt to shield my eyes from spoilers and I still knew nothing. This post is dedicated to you guys.

Alright guys. You know the drill. Get the hot coco and strap in.

Lets start with Deacon:

Deacon acknowledging that Chase is more likely to interact well with Buddy is actually so good to see. It's so nice to see Deacon prioritize Prunella's safety and to be more comfortable with being put in "lesser" positions, like babysitting! (Think back to sick! Chase, and look at how far Deacon's grown)

Deacon and Prunella's talk: Prunella calling out Deacon for always talking about being great instead of just being great. That's so good, genuinely--Prunella shrugging and being self-confident and Deacon finally really hearing it. He needs to just be what he wants.

Deacon's relationship with horses symbolizing his frustrations with his inability to control his life was NOT something I expected and I openly applauded. That's brilliant.

Don't be mistaken: Deacon sacrificed himself. He knew the risks of making the horse play bridge. He watched the horse fall victim to the spread of the pages. The horse was still neighing when it's legs started to turn--Deacon could have yelled, but he didn't, because he was too focused trying to make sure that Chase and Prunella, at least, could escape.

The speech Buddy gave him, which I will reference so many times, about there being a time to be the hero and a time to be the helper, is SO applicable. Deacon "is happy to help." He isn't trying to be the hero, and he isn't trying for glory, and he just wants his cousin and his friend-ish to be safe. And it's specifically when he's not trying to be the hero that he ends up being the hero, by taking control of the reigns and getting Prunella to Chase and risking his life. He follows Bronze and Prunella's advice, and listens to the speech, and listens to himself: He stops asking for permission. He steps up. He becomes the hero.

Cannot wait to see Deacon's reaction when Chase undoubtedly tells him how they escaped. I can't decide if Chase is immediately going to say "Buddy and I kissed" or if he's going to say "I figured out an escape and stop asking questions" but no matter what, Deacon's going to be squinting at his cousin and groaning.

ALSO can't wait to see how this arc impacts his relationship with his parents. Like I'm so excited. A Deacon that's more confident being able to step forward and say "No, I don't want to devote my life to something I'll actively hate. That's ridiculous." might be the end of me ngl, I love him.

Prunella!

Prunella my love

Prunella my LOVE

She has this confidence that we only see falter twice: when she struggles with the other kids, and right now. And in both situations, she didn't know what to do, and she was in over her head, and she reminded us that she's just a KID

Her arc has been the exact opposite of Deacon's, and it's so cool to watch them both experience opposite lessons in the same arc. Deacon learning how to step forward and lead while Prunella learns how to step back and follow.

Prunella hearing, constantly, about how dangerous the books are and finally SEEING the books as dangerous. Prunella finally understanding why Deacon was so strict about the books she could travel in, because most of their worst-case scenarios came true in a single swoop.

Prunella also has not met Buddy yet. She saw him, described him as the mean guy, and then perished. Truly an icon.

I am so convinced that Prunella and Buddy would be friends. Even if it starts rocky, I think they both enjoy humbling the Hollow boys too much to not grow to like the other's presence. I can't believe I have to wait for season 2 to get confirmation of this but I am going to be so smug when I am correct

Chase:

CHASE

CHASE EVERETT HOLLOW i have never in my life ever loved a character like I love Chase. I talk so much about Buddy but that is me being a wing-woman, Chase my love Chase, I love him so much

Fun fact I didn't even like Buddy until the first Cinderella story. I was so convinced I wouldn't like him, but I resigned myself to cheering for Stargoth anyway (I was part of the Canvas/Discover Squad, i had a LOT of hiss hiss Buddy) solely because if Buddy made Chase happy then sure I'll accept it, and now i adore Buddy, Punko is just that good

Every single moment of Chase in this arc stole my attention. every single panel. God I could do a dive longer and deeper than my Buddy analysis but exclusively on Chase during the finale arc. i could do it exclusively on Chase during the finale. I could do it on any singular panel.

Chase being guilty about lying to Buddy alone was heart-wrenching, but Chase literally only got more and more heartbreaking. Him constantly trying to help everyone--the keys, for example, with a resort for them to enjoy--only for things to go wrong--the resort, for example, drowning the book. He just wants to HELP

Buddy was 100% correct in calling out Chase for pinning the blame on Deacon, but what he didn't realize is Chase wasn't trying to do that. Chase truly felt terrible, and he truly wanted to apologize, and him bringing up Deacon was him being honest and factual because he did argue with Deacon about it, but he did end up listening to Deacon. And Buddy gets more frustrated because Chase is misunderstanding the problem--it isn't Chase hiding Prunella, it's Chase refusing to trust Buddy

And when you think about it. Chase absolutely has no reason to. Chase doesn't even know his name WHICH I WILL TALK ABOUT LATER bc kdjfherigh but! In Chase's eyes, yeah why would he. He's literally desperate to have Buddy prove that hes legit and good and kind and Buddy keeps shoving that away (Buddy saving Deacon's life and then pointedly not mentioning that, for example).

It's also the fact that Chase is trying so hard to stay optimistic despite such extreme levels of guilt. It's the fact that he stays clutching to that persona of optimism even after seeing paper! Deacon and Prunella, and it's only when he's staring at a bleeding Buddy that the full situation sinks in

Chase finally breaking. Oh my God you dont know how long I was waiting to see Chase splinter apart. This is a kid trying to do the impossible, and every single time something goes wrong, he feels like it's his fault. The book got destroyed? Buddy got betrayed? Admitting that he doesn't trust Buddy? Getting way less narratonin than Deacon or Prunella? He blames himself for all of it, first and foremost, and it's finally on full display

Chase even trying to send Buddy away? Pushing and pushing because he is so desperate to save someone, anyone, even though that's literally a death sentence for him. And he doesn't hesitate, either--it's practically instinct, even though Chase would never agree to leave if the roles had been reversed.

And like...augh Buddy hugging Chase, and Chase hugging him back? That was painful enough, but you add in Chase admitting that he doesn't want Buddy to leave?

This is not the post for me to point at Chase and accuse him of abandonment issues, but know that I am pointing at Chase and I am accusing him of abandonment issues. I am looking at him feeling hurt that Deacon left him in the Toffee arc, I am looking at him constantly repeating that he's not going anywhere, I am looking at him running to apologize to Buddy after spending so much time bitter about Buddy avoiding him, I am looking at his avoidance of talking about his mom in situations where "My mom is dying and this is important to me" would be really helpful, and I am thinking accusations

But anyway

Chase and his abandonment issues: literally all he wants is for someone to stay, safely and securely. His mom, Deacon, Silver, Buddy, even his dance partner. He's always at risk of losing someone, and he's about to lose everything, and all he can do is admit that he just wants Buddy to stay, because he's scared

Chase you are my sun you are my stars you are my whole solar system I will give you the world

Also, I absolutely knew the repeated comments about Chase being an idiot would get to him. Chase is SMART, guys. He's perceptive. He knows when he messes up, and he tries to look past the mistake and into how to rectify it, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware that he did something wrong. And people (Buddy) kept snapping that he was stupid, or an idiot, or ridiculous, bc Chase would make a mistake (or stick by a decision), and he would NOTICE that people thought it was ridiculous. He just didn't care, because he was either sticking with it, or trying to fix it.

And he DOES. He notices the words in the sky, realizes the solution, figures out the entire thread behind the stories (they want to be enjoyable and they want to have a good ending), and explains it all to Buddy. Chase figured it out, because he's so much smarter than everyone assumes.

Anyway Buddy hugging Chase and telling him he can stay a while longer (this is a scene burned into my heart) (more on that later) and telling him he's not stupid and that he's trying his best is SO important. This might be the first time in the entire story that someone finally sees Chase. Someone finally prioritizing Chase and putting Chase's wellbeing first and telling Chase yeah sure maybe you messed up but you're doing the impossible every single day and you're TRYING.

And for it to be Buddy? Like ignore the romance entirely--if someone who always insults you and is notoriously difficult to please tells you "No, you're not stupid. You're trying your best" while hugging you? thats the most sincere thing in the world. that's tears immediately.

Chase suggesting kissing is also askdjns because (again, ignore the romance part of it)--he always skips the kissing scenes. We know thats because he wanted to save his first kiss, and he's the one who offered. Yeah, okay, sure, it was life or death, but Chase didn't hesitate, and didn't weigh his options, and didn't even consider saying "a kiss on the forehead would probably suffice." guy went straight for "i need the mouth to mouth"

the grin. The bright eyes. the pressing fingers to his lips. He's so happy, so genuinely happy.

I truly, truly, TRULY cannot wait to see what this means for our idiots. I can't wait for someone to try to have a conversation and for someone else to not want a conversation, or for them to be so awkward with each other, or for Deacon to want to skin them both, or for WHATEVER turn this takes. And im SO happy for Chase.

Buddy:

I wrote this whole thing and it just deleted. i am furious

NOX

NOX I LOVE THAT NAME NOX NOX NOX

Punko i cant believe you were worried we wouldnt like it. nox nox nox nox nox i love that

okay first: the two theories for key Nox, as they are rn, are 1) that Nox has always been the villain key, or 2) that Nox was tricked/manipulated/experimented into becoming the villain key.

1) If he'd always been the villain key, it makes sense why he never told Chase his name. Chase would have immediately told Silver and company, who would have had to stare at Chase and ask them if he had a crush on their brother

1) if he'd always been the villain key, his distrust of Chase could be explained by him distrusting all humans. This would follow course with him also being frustrated by Deacon, which yes was partly because of jealousy but also partly because Deacon was a new key holder.

1) ALSO of course he was a nightmare about Chase with the key--he had no reason to believe Chase would treat the keys well. it's also possible that he knew Silver had a crack, and thats why he helped Chase in the first cinderella book--so that Chase could meet Silver.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he never asked Chase details about his key. Why he never asked about Silver or Bronze, or if they were okay, or how they were settling, despite routinely trying to get details about other factors of Chase's life. He assumes Chase is selfish, true, but he doesn't ever accuse Chase of being cruel with them.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" holds a lot of power. Yes, it's possible that the keys were once people and Nox wants to go back to that, but its been CENTURIES.

2) if he was always the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" would be applicable to all the keys, bc it would assume they were all human once (obligatory Keys are People Too mention, it's an amazing ao3 fic by incomple shoo go read it). Silver, Bronze, AND Goldie never mentioned that, and Punko likely would have foreshadowed it earlier.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he wasn't included in the dream Silver had! Where she dreamt about her family!

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his constant reference of Silver as "the key" or as "it" also makes sense. Earlier, like episode three or so, he mentions needing to get Silver back before the old man returns. It's Silver specifically, without mentioning trying to track down anyone else.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his name being objectively different from the other keys makes sense. Silver, Bronze, and Goldie were all named after the metal they were made from! Violet is purple! Yes, Nox means night, and yes, Nox has a moon on his back, but if Goldie isn't called Sunny, then I would argue Nox's name should count as way more subtle than everyone else's.

anyway theres a lot of points on either aspect

I could do into the character growth of Buddy, but I'm actually going to focus on the hug. Not the kiss, even though it's nice to see the fixation on Chase's hair stays strong, but Buddy immediately recognizing a hug is needed and immediately giving him one.

Buddy love language is touch, or something

Chase says "I think we need to kiss" and there's not a single arguement from Nox's lips. He literally stares at the sky, turns slowly, and goes "Not a problem"

actually the whole "I've never been the hero. Not even in my own story" goes so strong when you remember the speech he gave Deacon about needing to act as the hero, the helper, and whatever other role when need be. Nox was given the chance to be the hero, and he took it. "I'd like to be your hero" isn't just a romantic one-liner to preface a kiss--it's Nox genuinely saying that he wants the happy ending that Chase always skips. And Chase, this time, doesn't skip it.

Nox, returning back to his space with Violet, immediately says he doesn't think he can keep doing this. But he wants to be a human, more than ever, which implies that "keep doing this" isn't just travelling into the stories, but doing something additional. Something that, we can infer, is hurting Chase.

i am wrapping this up its snowing outside and i cant feel my fingers, how do you snow people do this

if you read all of this! grab a treat <3 hope you enjoyed and love you all

#happy birthday fastpassers #cinderella boy #chase hollow #cinderella boy webtoon #stargoth #buddy #buddy cinderella boy #i live in the hot place #and its snowing #so ive been in the snow #all day #because it NEVER snows #this was a once in a lifetime opportunity #i had classes and i pretended that i was sick #lied in the snow and let the snowflakes bury me

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nottivagos · 2 days ago

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syn: "Poor, scared little bunny. You'll never stop running."

wc: 2.3k

tw: dark themes, +18 mdni pls and ty, stalkers, kidnapping, drugging food, manipulation, physical harm, stockholm syndrome, unhealthy relationships, obsession, overall really bad & immoral.

an: i don't really know what to put here. i really enjoyed writing this fic despite the dark aspects to it, and i'm v. thankful for the love for stalker!carlos <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair

Run, Rabbit, Run. || CS55

Stillness. The only noise came from the droning ticking of the antique clock that sat on the mantelpiece, collecting dust like a chronic hoarder. Wide eyes glued to the window, hawking over the freshness of the green lawn, flurries of colour the flowers in the bed showed because of the spring bloom. It had been a while since you’d seen a flower out in the wild, you thought.

Bunnies are beautiful creatures. They go silent when they want something, or when they get hurt. Maybe that’s why forced hickeys of red and blue blotched your skin, why your hair was dishevelled and unkempt, why your pupils were dilated whilst eyes wide and lifeless as boney hands subconsciously fidgeted with the empty paper cup, ripping it into smaller pieces, as it kept trembling in your grasp.

You couldn’t remember the feeling of glass on your hands, the coolness of the material in your palms, the sensation of a distant memory. Replaced by the roughness of paper rubbing against your fingertips. Carlos said that you could be only trusted with paper. It was safer, he said. You couldn’t be trusted with glass, he said.

His rules became the norm, the changing subtleties in your routines, embedded into the back of your mind. It was as if you'd been re-wired, happily for his own dark pleasure. You didn’t mind. You’d stopped minding a while ago. He loved you, that’s all that mattered. This life was happy. Not like your one before him.

Hell, you didn’t even know anything anymore.

Brain turned to mush, conditioned to not make decisions on its own, your own life like modelling clay in his hands, this domesticated haven you were living all created by his own desire to keep you. Cherish you. Have you.

Muddled thoughts swam constantly in your mind, causing yourself to be unable to think properly. Shaky intakes of breath following, the shallow rattling of your lungs could be heard in the lifelessness of your lounge area. Eyes continuously glued to the window, watching the people walk in the warm sun, skin slightly reddened from the rays shining down.

Arms hugged your legs as you sat on the couch, like you usually did every day. Sometimes you’d hear the subtle clang or movement from Carlos in another room, but typically it was silent. Solitary in your own home. The typical homely four walls acting like a cold prison cell, reflecting the psychological confusion simmering in your mind.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎— ⟡ — ‎‎‎‎‎‎

It was hard to pinpoint when it had started. The past fear blurred by this fantasy you were living in now, as if Carlos hadn't done all those fucked up things to you. You were the right girl, the one that came into his life at the right time too. Naive, pretty, let down by past partners— the full package of a victim prone to manipulation.

Carlos was infatuated. Mesmerised by your presence, your beautiful smile, the giggly laughs you produced when he got you a little too drunk (on purpose of course), the way your body complimented the outfits you wore a little too well. He was a creep, a love-drunk freak.

It was innocent, you thought. A guy actually had an interest in you! He was such a breath of fresh air to the jerks that you’d been with before. He'd even mentioned that, holding you against your words in a heated argument you’d both shared. Using your drunken, emotional words to his advantage when you'd told him all teary-eyed that someone hadn’t cared about you in this way for a long time all those months beforehand. Yes, he was a little older than you, but why did that matter? He obviously acknowledged you for yourself, and you couldn’t help but cling onto that feeling.

It definitely wasn’t odd that Carlos knew when you needed him most. Or, just affection in general. Your mind just took it as him being a caring neighbour, the gifts or little treats just out of generosity and affection. Definitely not an obsession and the messed up yearning that followed.

He knew your schedule more than you knew it yourself; work, eat, sleep, repeat. Sometimes on the weekends you’d go for a run, probably a New Year’s Resolution, he’d inferred. You’d meet friends occasionally and host at your house, too. He knew when your face lit up at certain foods you loved as you ate them with such raw joy, the way you played some specific songs louder than others when you heard them on the radio— you gave him an inch of your happiness, and he took the whole mile.

You weren’t sure when it fully changed though, when the kind acts became more intense, more horrifying to your friends when they raised their concerns about your new ‘lover’. If you could even call him a lover, to say the least.

Carlos was charismatic, a true gentleman waiting in the wings ready for his time to pounce. It just took time. Time he didn’t want to take, but he knew he had to console the rabbit and gain their trust before making any abrupt movements. Or they’d run away. A risk not worth taking when you were so close to being in his grasp forever. The lengthy process was like you, an innocent bunny timidly chewing on grass, whilst his wolf hid away, contemplating on when to pounce.

And when he did, he thought it was beautiful. It was so refreshing that you’d complied with such ease. You’d spent the evening together, Carlos innocently offering to cook a meal for you both as he’d witnessed your fatigued body trudge into your home. The thought was kind — well to you, at least — but the motive behind the action was far from it.

All he had to do was slip a few sleeping pills into your food and you were gone! The sight was beautiful to see. His eyes darkening at the realisation that his plan was working ever so smoothly with no interruptions made a little smirk appear on his lips as he watched you ever so intently. The increased drowsiness added to your already underlying tiredness, and you were even a sweetheart for incoherently mumbling that you “could finish your food” when he asked if you needed to rest.

A broken phone now smashed on his dining room table as you finally fell into a deep slumber, it wasn’t as if you’d need that again, that would be living in the past, not in the present with him. And only him. He’d made sure to get you another one, of course, he’d even gone out of his way to contact your parents that you were “going away on a business trip for a few weeks”! Little did your parents know they’d never see their little girl ever again.

The rest you didn’t know. Your head lulled downwards as soft snores followed. Carlos’s large arms came to cradle you, hands clawing underneath your thighs as he rested your snoozing self to his chest. Watching you sleep in his embrace was angelic, a sight he aspired to remember forever and have burned into his dark mind, the car ride to your new life made him giddy with excitement distorted with the acknowledgement that you’d never be out of his grasp. Always his, forever.

His little bunny, so innocent and fragile, that he was going to provide a better life for. Like the wolf of him should. To guard and protect before fully going in for the kill. He’d taken your aspirations for living in “a little quaint cottage in the middle of nowhere” literally. He wanted anything for his girl, and if that would make her happy, he’d happily make it happen for you.

— ⟡ —

Stockholm Syndrome was the best way to explain your reality from then on. You'd developed a little coping mechanism to help ‘count down’ the days until someone came to save you, but in all, you'd just trauma bonded with Carlos instead. You'd come to sympathise with him, this ‘life’ he'd created for you actually painting itself as heaven. A happiness you couldn't describe as your old life faded into nothing.

The barrages of “you know I love you, right?” and the desperate “don’t leave me please” burnt into your mind. The empowering guilt behind his pathetic pleads entrapped you more than Carlos physically did, and you couldn’t help but feel ashamed of your selfishness for wanting to run away. So you learnt to stay silent. Just like Carlos wanted.

You were so sucked into your thoughts that you didn’t even acknowledge Carlos coming into the room. Your nails hovered in front of your mouth, the nervousness in your stomach churning into acid in your stomach, your cuticles practically begging to be chewed to alleviate the stress and confusion swallowing your thoughts whole.

”Princesa, you’re thinking again,” the thick accent cooed from beside you, cupping the shredded remnants of your once-used cup from your lap, before discarding them on the wooden coffee table beside him. ”Tell me what’s wrong,” his voice was soft; caring, even, but there was definitely an undertone of a command there.

Your eyes followed the voice, daze-like as you met his doe brown gaze. Blinking, your eyes adjusted to the sight, before mumbling whilst still a little disorientated, “Nothing’s wrong. Just.. preoccupied.”

The sigh that followed was gentle, despite it having a bite of annoyance at your lie. “Come here,” he murmured in response, patting his lap with that wolfish smile, “I don’t bite.”

The first thing you learnt whilst being with Carlos. Do as you were told. If he knew what was best for you, it was the best for you. Bunnies were shy little things, they didn’t know what was right, but your wolf did. It didn’t help that you’d been craving the intimacy, which was Carlos’s initial plan, so you complied, your smaller body crawling over to his larger one, perching on his lap like it was second nature.

“Good girl,” he praised, the rumble of his low voice vibrating as you rested your back against his chest. Large hands came to rest on your thighs, the feeling of his calloused palms trapping you in his caged embrace sent bolts of electricity surging through your body.

You’d become so accustomed to the sweet nothings and gentle words that it was like a spark set off in your brain, you following the words like a moth to a flame. Hooked on his every syllable and low delivery, the fear that if you didn’t that he’d become angry. You hated when he was angry; your bunny forced into conformity, silenced and quivering in fear whilst his wolf barked, ready to eat you whole.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right? Would you, mi vida?” he murmured again, pressing hot kisses against your jaw, the pecks causing your skin to burn with a bubbling intensity. “You know I don’t like it when you lie,” he continued, his voice holding a warning tone, you could sense that, “I care about you. There’s no need for you to lie, corazón.”

That mutter against your skin made your throat dry with fear. Wide eyes paced around your surroundings, an uncomfortable lump forming in your throat as you just let him touch you. Calloused fingertips trailed down your sides as burning lips attacked your already bruised nape, leaving even more scorching marks after subtle nips of his teeth onto your skin.

“I’m not lying,” you responded, your voice a breathy whisper as your body shivered whilst Carlos’s lips hovered over your reddened neck, hot breath fanning onto the skin. “I’m fine, honestly,” your mumble followed, trembling hands playing with the hem of your dress nervously.

He sighed again, this time more agitated as he pulled your back flush against his burly chest. “You are lying, nena,” his voice took a more harsh tone, biting back, as you watched his jaw tense subtly.

A pit of dread formed in your stomach. A sickening feeling churned and churned, your skin becoming pale at the sight of his angry state. You didn’t want him to become angry. Not again, not after last time. You’d only just healed from last time, you couldn’t go through that again. And what do pathetic little bunnies do when they’re scared and overwhelmed, unable to think for themselves, you may ask?

They cry.

The waterworks followed. Soft sobs turned into wails as your throat burned with fear, tears falling down your reddened cheeks as your hands pathetically came to wipe them away. Carlos’s eyes softened in that moment, looking down at you with a sympathetic look as you shuffled in his lap, now straddling him whilst clinging onto him.

“I’m sorry—” you hiccupped, sobs breaking your voice “—I thought, I just—” you tried to reason, your brain stopping you from comprehending your own thoughts, “I— I don’t— know—” you continued to sniffle into his chest, as a large hand came to cradle the back of your head gently.

“Oh, nena,” Carlos tutted, chin resting on the top of your head ever so slightly. “Hush, it’s okay,” he cooed, pressing a soft peck against your hair, “Shh. You don’t need to explain it right now.”

“B-but I—”

“But nothing,” his voice was stern, though it held some softness to it. “Just let me hold you, princesa. Please.”

You mustered a nod, another sniffle following as Carlos cradled him to your chest. Heart fluttering at the intimacy in that moment, you nuzzled more into him. You were such a confused little bunny, your little mental breakdown explained that even more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d got you right where he needed you.

Innocent.

Utterly helpless.

And dependent on his every word and action.

like stalker!carlos? consider sending me an ask in my inbox to be added to the notebook! - notti <3

77 notes · View notes

zepskies · 2 days ago

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Omgg girl I'M so excited to see what you thought of Part 3! It's a bit slower than Part 2, but we've got some big emotional hurdles in this one... (loll mommy needs some you time. 💜💜)

I love this description btw Really painted a picture in my head 😍👏

Aww thank you so much! I went to Seattle a few years ago in the fall, and it was absolutely beautiful with the trees changing their colors and basically painting the ground with different colors. 💜

Ouch. That line probably haunted her afterward 😂🙈 (but I loved their banter! You can totally see they have a close and loving relationship 💕) And her dad's optimism and "fate" was so adorable ☺️

Oh definitely, poor thing. She's so very done with bears too. 😅 Aww I was hoping people would see that, even in this small glimpse of her and her dad's relationship. I always find it so adorable when dads are the bigger "sap" in the relationship. 😂

Ah, our boy entered work mode 🤓

Oh you BET loll!!

Oh God 🙈 No, I can't watch him leave alone. At least get Sam!!! Oh God, no, no, no, no... 🫣 I also realized in that moment why my readers are usually "from the same foxhole" because this is exactly what I can't do. Freaks me the fuck out and gives me so much anxiety. Like, I have to be there 😂 I don't know how you do it. Bravo, friend 😅👏

The tensiooooon loll.

Ooh that makes sense loll. For me I thrive in that angst for some reason. Like, making it through all the uncertainty and fear appeals to my hopeless romantic heart to have the battered hero eventually come home to the one he loves. 🥹💗

But yeah, she really shouldn't be going out there on a suss ankle in the middle of winter. 🫠🫠 (Also I'm saving that worried Ross gif LLOL)

Ooooh, btw, super interesting what you said about the bear meat! I figured something like this. They did wear bear fur, right? And I know people back then never wasted anything, so makes sense they'd eat the meat, too 😄

Ooh yeah I learned about that from watching modern survivalists talk about their experiences on Joe Rogan's podcast lmao. They literally eat the whole caribou, moose, etc. Cartilage and bone and all. 🤢 So it still goes on today, believe it or not! But oh yeah, when America was still being settled, for example, certain Native Americans tribes would trade with European settlers and American traders for furs.

I cackled 😂 Love her feistiness!

bahaha I'm glad you liked that little internal monologue. 😘

Aww 😭😭 Poor thing... 😢 (Loved how she explained not taking his room. While invasive, I think if Dean came back to this in his room, he would've melted 🫠🫶)

Honestly you're probably right loll. At first he'd be like "wtf?" But then he'd probably melt and smile ruefully/soft. 💕

I knew it was a long shot, especially when her father wasn't with Dean, but still breaks my heart for her 💔😢

Yeah I feel like we all knew it was headed here, but it was still heartbreaking for me to even write too. 😭💙

The anxiety is long forgotten. All is forgiven... *sighs dreamily* 😍😍

Ahaha that's what I hoped you'd say. 😏💓

Oh no, you come back here, young man!!! It wouldn't be Dean, though, without the "you can't date me, I'm dangerous and not good enough" freak out 😂

LOLL I imagine you grabbing him by his ear. 😂 But right? I feel like in any kind of canon setting, you have to deal with Dean's (lack of) self-worth, as well with his fear of being a danger to the ones he loves. 💙💙

Legit crying right now 😭😭😭 This is exactly why we always want what's best for him in fanfics. He deserves it so much 🥺

Honestly this is why I keep writing that "deal with your self-worth" stuff when it comes to Dean, because I really wished he could've found his happiness like Sam got in the end of S15. 😭

Love that little detail. Makes such a huge difference ❤️

Aw thank you!! That's one of those details I hope people notice when they read this chapter. 🥹

Oooooh, I so can't wait to read the finale now! This is absolutely amazing, Alex! It's got the right amount of angst and heartbreak, only to haul me back into this sweet cabin romanticism 😍🤍🤍🤍

I so hope you enjoy the final part, my friend!! 🥹🥹 This little series was so fun, especially to explore the omegaverse trope/world with some Alpha Dean, giving those post-S15 angsty feels. In a way, it's kind of a S15 fix-it fic. And idk if you remember, but our convo way back about spicy goodness in a cabin in front of the fireplace is more or less what inspired the next chapter (and the whole fic, really). 😂💜

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases.

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.”

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself.

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father.

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes.

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it.

Wendigo.

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin.

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside.

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back.

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser.

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either.

But you’ll have to try.

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive.

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt.

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says.

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door.

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes.

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one.

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him.

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place.

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure.

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair.

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion.

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer.

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance.

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin.

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands.

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin.

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.”

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free.

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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bellaxgiornata · 2 days ago

Text

You Are My Sunshine [1]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Summary: Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: Not everything will be true to canon in this little series, and this first part starts out in Jax's POV. I just couldn't resist the idea of Jax with someone so bright and bubbly bringing some happiness his way. As a note since I'm newer in the SoA fanfic scene, I always do my best to refrain from adding physical descriptions to Readers, but they are still some form of a character personality-wise. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Placing the cigarette between his lips, Jax flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the tip of it. He was itching for something right now–a smoke, a drink, a fuck, a fight. He couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Everything felt the same–a neverending blur. The days had all begun to bleed together ever since he and the guys had been released from Stockton the other month.

And everything felt the goddamn same as it did before he'd gone in.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and leant back against the brick of the clubhouse behind him. Laughter and blaring music was pouring out of the building, the noise always far too loud to be contained by the structure. The Sons were partying again tonight, celebrating a successful closure of a deal from earlier in the day. But for some reason Jax hadn’t felt like partying. The air in the clubhouse felt suffocating, which was why he’d stepped outside into the balmy summer night for a cigarette instead.

As a trail of smoke curled its way upwards from between his lips, Jax stared vacantly across the otherwise empty lot, his eyes landing on the line of motorcycles across from him. His mind inevitably wandered back to Tara while he smoked, something it often did ever since she’d reappeared in his life over a year ago just to disappear all over again. Running away. That's what she had always done best.

He hated that he couldn’t get her out of his head even after all this time. But what he hated even more was that part of him still felt like it was holding onto the ridiculous hope that she’d come back to him. That she might wake up one day and return to Charming and somehow just accept him for who he was, who he'd always been. But that was a fucking bullshit hope and he knew it.

Jax’s jaw clenched in irritation, his fingers tightening around his cigarette as he drew it back up to his lips for another sharp inhale. It was impossible not to think that Tara had used him just to get rid of Kohn knowing that he’d be sympathetic to her situation. Knowing damn well that Jax would never have just walked away when she came to him for help. And it pissed him off that she’d played him like that–that he had let her play him like that. Especially when he’d been so fucking vulnerable after Abel had been born with all of his health complications weighing on his mind.

He had needed her in return, but Tara hadn’t cared about what Jax was going through. She hadn’t cared about the fact that until that moment, Jax had never killed like he'd killed that night for her. Every time before had always been for the club–for self-defense, retaliation. But that night? That night it had been out of love. It had been because he'd been protecting someone he cared about. And Tara had thrown him away a second time right afterwards, not even bothering to think about how any of it had affected Jax.

Movement across the street caught Jax’s attention, breaking through his spiraling, agitated thoughts. His head turned as he stood in the dimly lit parking lot, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out a plume of smoke as his eyes landed on you across the street through the large glass windows of your coffee shop.

Honest Coffee. You’d opened it at some point when he and a few of the Sons had been doing a few months in Stockton, but ever since he’d gotten out, he’d found his gaze drawn across the street to that building more times than he’d ever willingly care to admit. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, either. Jax was not the kind of guy you’d find sitting inside of a coffee shop sipping on some fancy ass, overly sweetened and overpriced bullshit cup of coffee. That wasn’t his thing. So of course he’d never actually ventured inside the shop that had opened up across the street from the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow Automotive.

But for some goddamn reason he couldn’t help but look.

The entire place stood out amongst the old, worn brick buildings beside it. You’d painted the exterior brick white and hung up some bold, black sign with the shop’s name on it above the entrance. There were even a few little tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front along with writing on one of the large glass windows that read ‘Support your local caffeine dealer.’ Which, for some goddamn reason, amused Jax to no end considering your shop was located across the street from actual arms dealers.

And there were plants. Goddamn, the amount of plants. A few large potted ones sat outside by the front doors, and there were a handful hanging over all of the large open windows. And, from what Jax had been able to see when he’d ridden past the place multiple times, you had plants on the tables inside, too. So many fucking plants it was like you were making coffee in a damn jungle. He didn’t understand why you had so many or how the hell they always looked like they were thriving. He’d often heard Gemma even compliment the goddamn plants the few times she’d stopped over to get herself coffee.

But it wasn’t entirely the plants or what you’d done to the building to make it appear so warm and inviting in downtown Charming that had him constantly staring across the street. It was you, if he was being honest with himself. You were always working there. He’d already come to assume that you were more than just a barista and that you actually owned the coffee shop with how frequently you were there. And you were attractive, that wasn’t even remotely a question. But you were nothing like the women at the clubhouse, or Redwoody, or Diosa. Where most of the women he’d encountered in his life were all rough and hard edges, you always seemed so soft and sweet. Like a warmth just radiated off of you everytime you smiled.

And you were always fucking smiling over there. Whenever Jax watched you through the windows, whether he was outside having a smoke with the guys or by himself, you were guaranteed to be standing somewhere in that shop talking to someone with a smile on your face. Despite the fact that he didn't understand how one damn person could smile so damn much in a day, he’d sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to see that smile up close, to have it directed at himself. There was just something about it, even from this distance across the street, that made it look different from any other smile he felt like he’d been given in his life. Like it was real and not covering a hidden agenda.

Jax took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground beside his feet, crushing it out beneath his shoe. His eyes were still on you through those large glass windows as he did. It looked like you were closing up the shop for the day. You were alone inside, the entire place empty as you swept the floor with a broom. But it almost looked like you were dancing as you cleaned, your hips swaying as your lips moved. The corner of Jax’s lips twisted upwards faintly at the sight. Who the hell were you? You were cleaning in an empty shop in downtown Charming, all alone just after sunset, across the street from the disliked and notorious motorcycle club, and you were dancing as you swept?

Who the fuck looked so happy to be cleaning?

Without even thinking, Jax pushed off the wall of the clubhouse and let his feet carry him away from the party raging behind him. An incredulous look was etched across his usually hard features as he began to cross the empty street and make his way towards your coffee shop. Eventually he came to a stop just outside of the front door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he watched the back of you for a minute through the windows. Unquestionably you were inside dancing and sweeping as you listened to–what Jax assumed as he stood just outside–stupid coffee shop music. An amused huff came out of him as he shook his head at the sight.

Not even bothering to check if your shop was closed on the hours listed on the door, Jax slipped a hand out of his pocket and pulled it open. No bell chimed to alert you of his presence, meaning you continued your cleaning and soft singing to yourself with your back facing him, completely unaware you had a customer. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered further inside the shop, making his way over to the counter near the register before resting an arm against the white countertop. He leaned his weight against it, crossing his ankles as his head cocked to the side, his blue eyes fixed on you.

Christ, you looked adorable. Not a thought he often had about women. Usually he went for the ones at the clubhouse barely dressed in much of anything who were always very eager to spend the night with him. Even a few of the girls at Diosa and the pornstars at Redwoody that had sometimes caught his eye would never have been called anything close to ‘adorable’ by Jax. But you just looked so goddamn sweet and you hadn’t even noticed him standing behind you staring.

Clearing his throat, Jax figured he should probably alert you to his presence. He didn’t want to scare you, which he had a feeling might happen if you turned around and spotted someone that looked like him just quietly watching you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so damn happy sweeping a floor before,” Jax called out.

The way you startled at his voice, spinning around abruptly with a soft, surprised gasp while throwing a hand over your heart, had a pleased grin growing on Jax’s face. You looked so surprised with your wide eyes and parted lips. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he bit his bottom lip and held the sound back.

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not here to rob your coffee shop,” he teased.

Almost immediately your expression shifted, the look of surprise disappearing and being replaced with a friendly smile that lit up your entire face. The sight of it did something to Jax, taking him by surprise. Because it was nighttime, you were alone in your shop, and here Jax had stood unannounced behind you, and yet your reaction was to just smile at him like he was some old friend you’d been expecting to see?

A soft laugh fell from your lips as Jax watched you turn around towards him, leaning some of your weight against the broom handle in your hands while your eyes took in the sight of him. He noticed the way you'd briefly scanned his kutte, but that kind smile remained stretched across your pretty mouth when your gaze once more met his.

“I wasn't thinking you were going to, you just startled me,” you answered. “You're extremely quiet on your feet, you know.”

Jax chuckled at the comment, his grin growing a little more amused. If only you knew the half of it.

“I may have been told that a time or two,” he replied, his eyes still taking you in without a hint of subtlety.

“Well,” you began, a playful lilt to your tone, completely unbothered by his gaze, “you know what they say about strange men showing up unannounced after closing, don’t you?”

Completely thrown by the unexpected teasing question coming from someone who looked as sweet as you, Jax couldn’t fight back the small chuckle that managed to fall out of him. “No, darlin’, I don’t. What do they say?” he asked.

Your perceptive eyes, which were still lit from the warmth of your smile, watched the way Jax continued to lean so casually against the countertop. You didn't appear even remotely fazed by his presence here and he found that so incredibly odd.

“That they want a coffee,” you answered matter-of-factly.

Jax raised a brow curiously at your response, your smile somehow widening even further on your lips. You were not what he'd expected–and he'd already expected you to be something sweet and nice. But it was almost like you were more than even just that. It felt like the goddamn sun was shining on him when you smiled at him, and he didn't know what to make of it. No one in Charming that was an outsider to the club was this kind and friendly to its members. Most of the town had a healthy fear and a good amount of disdain at this point for the Sons.

But not you, apparently.

“Thought you were closing?” Jax asked, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he eyed you curiously.

You laughed lightly yet again, turning and resting the broom against the shop’s counter now. “Didn't stop you from sneaking in, friend.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, completely genuine in your question as you asked, “So, would you like a coffee?”

An amused noise of disbelief rumbled out of Jax. You spoke to him as if he was any other goddamn customer coming into your shop. He'd never been treated so normal before.

“Guess if you're offering, sweetheart, then yes,” he finally answered. Jax moved over, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the small counter as he watched you make your way around it. “Though I can't say I'd normally be caught dead ordering anything from a coffee shop.”

Coming to a stop in front of him just on the other side of the counter, your head tilted curiously to the side as you studied him closely. Jax stiffened under the weight of your gaze. It almost felt like you were seeing right through him with the way your eyes ran over his face so carefully. As if you were really taking him in. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, but then that damn sweet smile was plastered across your lips again before you were speaking.

“Then I'm honored to be the first. And,” you continued, the sound of your voice somehow temporarily soothing that constant burning rage inside of Jax, “I'll even make it on the house. Free of charge this time.”

Jax blinked back at you, stunned into silence for a moment. But then he shook his head, waving a hand at you. “Not gonna let you do that, darlin’. I can pay for a coffee.”

“Didn't say you couldn't, I'm just trying to spread some kindness. Looks you've had a rough day,” you replied, a softness in your voice that wasn't there a moment ago. But then the bright, playfulness was back as you pointed a finger at him. “You look like a regular coffee kind of guy. No creamer, bit of sugar. Am I right?”

“I…yeah,” Jax answered, a little taken aback at how quickly you'd read him and how easily you spoke to him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There's sweetener on that counter behind you,” you said, gesturing at something behind Jax before you turned around.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at what you’d pointed out before he focused back on you. Watching in silence, his eyes remained on the back of you as you started on his cup of coffee, but his brows soon furrowed as he watched you work. He'd never seen someone make coffee the way you were doing now. What in the hell were you doing?

“Don't you just...have a machine, sweetheart?” Jax asked slowly.

A soft laugh came from you as you worked, your back to him as you answered. “Pour over is better than drip. I promise.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at him once more. “Just trust me.”

Still baffled and confused as to what in the hell you were doing, he couldn't help but to keep watching you in silence, completely confused as to how in the hell you were making him what should be just a simple cup of coffee. He really never had stepped foot into a coffee shop before–a big chain one or a locally owned place. He didn’t even know why he’d crossed the street and come over here in the first place, especially with the party going on at the clubhouse where he was supposed to be.

Lost in his thoughts, Jax’s eyes inevitably dropped down to your ass, taking in the shape of it in your jeans. His head tilted appreciatively to the side as his attention focused on that instead of trying to understand the strange pull he'd felt to step inside your shop once and for all tonight. His tongue slipped out, running along the length of his bottom lip as he took in the unobstructed view before him. You filled your jeans out damn good.

“So you got a name, friend?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts. “Or am I just supposed to keep calling you ‘friend’?”

Jax found himself mentally chastising himself at your interruption, his eyes moving back to yours as you turned around, leaning your back against the counter behind you. There was a sincere expression on your face, like you actually cared to know who he was, and that had him feeling guilty for the way he'd just been looking at you. You weren't like the girls he surrounded himself with, you were actually good. He shouldn't be eyeing you like that. There was no way in hell you'd ever be interested in a man like him, and you definitely didn't look like the one-and-done kind of girl.

“It's Jax,” he answered. “Jax Teller. You got a name, darlin’?”

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upwards when you gave him your name so easily. He had a feeling this was one of the rare times he wouldn't just immediately forget a woman's name after she'd given it to him.

“You always this cheerful, darlin’?” he asked next, unable to resist the question that had been gradually growing in his mind the longer he sat here. “Or is this some professional, friendly barista persona that you throw on when you're here at work?”

Jax watched as you turned around to the back counter against the tiled wall again, picking up the strange glass container you'd just made the coffee in before pouring it into a to-go cup for him. You were quiet as you worked before turning around and crossing the space over to where Jax was sitting. Reaching a hand out, Jax accepted the coffee from yours, but when his rough fingers brushed against your soft ones, he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“Owner,” you said softly, your hands resting on the countertop. “Not a barista. And it's not a persona I throw on for work, this is just me.”

Jax’s brows drew together at that as he got off his chair and made his way over to the counter by the entrance to add in some sweetener to the coffee. How the hell was anyone just that friendly and cheerful naturally? Without it being a front? But as he stirred his coffee, wandering back over to the counter and taking his seat again, he noticed that you looked sincere.

“How the hell are you this friendly to everyone?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair at the counter, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Because I like being nice,” you simply replied.

Jax made a face at that answer. Who the fuck liked being nice all of the time? That had to be bullshit. There had to be people you didn't like, people that you weren't quite so kind towards. People like him who definitely didn't deserve an ounce of kindness.

“Bullshit,” Jax argued, eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “There's gotta be rude customers you aren't such a ray of sunshine towards, right? Bad people you don't want in here?”

He watched as your fingers lightly drummed against the countertop, your smile smaller but not gone from your lips. Almost like it was just a permanent fixture on your face.

“I believe everyone deserves some kindness,” you answered genuinely after a moment, holding Jax’s gaze. “Because you never know the weight of what someone is carrying on their shoulders. And sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word or a smile in their day.”

Jax just sat there in silence for a moment, staring at you like you'd just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing. And honestly, he felt like you had. You looked so naive and innocent standing there behind your counter full of those goddamn plants you appeared to love so much.

“You realize who I am, right?”

The question had slipped out of Jax without much forethought, but he was curious now. Were you somehow that oblivious as to who your shop was across the street from? Was that why you were being so friendly to him?

“Yeah,” you answered with a nod, your eyes focusing behind Jax at the clubhouse through the window for a second before returning to him. “I've seen a lot of you with those…vests? Over there across the street.”

Jax couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled out of him. Vests. That was cute. Jesus, you really weren't part of his world at all, were you? You probably had no damn idea about the pistol in his “vest.”

“Kuttes, darlin’. They're called kuttes,” he told you as he drew his cup towards his mouth while he spoke. “They're a bit different and more important than just some vest.”

Jax took a sip of the hot coffee, entirely planning to continue his explanation about how wrong you were about the kuttes, but he was taken off guard by the drink. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it did. He'd drank coffee before–a shitload of it most days because Jax was no stranger to sleepless nights even before Abel came into the picture–but this didn't taste like the acidic, burnt trash that he'd grown used to masking with sugar.

The sound of your delighted laugh drew his gaze back up to your face. A bright, amused smile was shining back at him. The sight momentarily had Jax forgetting about everything–the coffee, the kuttes, his anger at Tara, the clubhouse party he should be getting back to. All he could do was stare at you, taking in the sight of your smile and the way it felt like it had somehow warmed him more than that hot coffee ever could.

“Is it good?” you asked, gesturing your head towards the cup in his hand. “The coffee?”

Blinking a couple of times, Jax looked back down at the paper cup warming his hand, attempting to return to his senses. “Yeah,” he answered. Roughly clearing his throat, he snapped out of whatever it was that your smile had just done to him. “How the hell do you get your coffee to taste so damn good?”

A pleased smile spread its way across your face when Jax looked back at you. He liked the way a glimmer of something–pride, maybe–reflected back at him in your eyes.

“All about the roast and the extraction, Jax,” you replied. “Fresh, good quality beans that have just been ground make a world of difference. But I'm glad you like it. I've always said a great cup of coffee can help make a bad day better.”

Jax chuckled again, shaking off that weird sensation from a moment ago and drawing the cup up to his lips for another drink of the hot liquid. Goddamn, is this why people paid more instead of just making it their damn selves? Did it actually taste that much better from a coffee shop?

“Maybe for some people,” Jax mused as he lowered the cup, his eyes fixed on you behind the counter. “But I don't think a cup of coffee is gonna do a damn thing to fix my problems, darlin’.”

Unfazed by his attitude, you simply shrugged a shoulder in response. “You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. You were adorable. Naive, but adorable.

“I don't think coffee is the solution to anything other than how damn tired I am,” he disagreed.

Loud shouting from across the street caught both of your attention from the shop, the noise interrupting the conversation. Jax noticed the way your eyes darted to the window almost instantly before he sighed and looked over his shoulder behind him. A handful of the guys were outside drunk and having a smoke in the clubhouse lot, a few of the hangarounds clinging to them in their short shorts and crop tops. The sight of them out there was sobering. He knew he should get back to the clubhouse, especially now with how he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he'd interrupted you trying to close your shop.

Turning around in his chair, Jax entirely expected to see some sort of judgmental look on your face at the Sons and the croweaters across the street. It was how everyone outside of the club looked at them. But there was only a hint of genuine curiosity before your gaze shifted back to him in front of you. His brows furrowed faintly together at that, but he quickly pushed the growing questions away. It didn't matter.

“I should get back over there,” Jax told you. “Make sure those shitheads don't cause too much trouble. And I should let you finish closing up.”

He rose from the chair at the counter, his lips straightening along his face as he got to his feet with his coffee in hand. For some reason, he found he didn't really want to go back over to the clubhouse, though. Whatever frustration he'd been feeling before he had walked over here tonight had somehow just vanished within the short time he'd spent sitting here talking to you. Something no amount of drinking, fucking, or riding his bike had even managed.

“You're right, it's well past close for me now,” you admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall behind yourself.

Another pang of guilt flooded Jax at your words. It was completely his fault that you were here so late now because he had stupidly walked in here for…he didn't even know what. Except that smile returned to your face again almost immediately, as if you weren't even upset that he had interrupted your night.

“I'm curious about something, sweetheart,” Jax found himself saying, his eyes narrowing at you as he spoke. “Would you have kicked me out at some point tonight, or are you too nice for that, too?”

Another small, casual shrug came in response to the question. “Eventually, yes,” you answered. “I do need to eventually go home and sleep before coming back here tomorrow morning.” You paused, that look on your face like you were seeing straight through him briefly returning before you continued. “But you looked like you needed…something. Figured a coffee wouldn't hurt, at least.”

Jax stood there staring at you, just taking in what you had said and that warm, friendly smile. It didn't make sense–you didn't make sense. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the way you seemed to actually see him. It was unsettling.

“You're an odd one, sunshine,” he murmured.

Almost instantly, a delighted laugh met Jax’s ears as he took another sip of his coffee. As he swallowed the drink down, his own lips couldn't keep from drawing themselves upwards at the sound.

“Sunshine?” you asked, both of your brows raising back at him.

Bottom lip rolling between his teeth, Jax bit back the grin threatening to spread across his face as he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sunshine,” he repeated. “Suits you. You're so goddamn friendly and nice.”

“Well that's a new one for me,” you told him.

There was something different about the smile on your face now, but Jax couldn't quite place what it was. He'd never had a woman smile at him like that before. Not even Tara.

The thought of Tara was like a kick to the chest, a jolt of pain shooting through Jax. His expression abruptly fell, aware that all the usual thoughts he'd had about her after she had left him a second time were going to come back and hit him hard the second he walked out of your shop.

“Right. I should let you close,” he replied tersely.

Giving you a nod in goodbye, Jax's mouth felt dry as he turned around towards the exit. A confusing mix of thoughts were swirling in his mind now.

“Goodnight, Jax,” you called out behind him.

The sweet, soft tone gave him pause as he rested one hand on the door handle. His blonde brows drew together, jaw clenching tight as that familiar rage and darkness inside of him felt like it was clawing its way up his chest, threatening to spill out of him in the form of some rude comment that would knock that friendly smile off your face. He didn't deserve you treating him like this. He was a terrible person. He knew he could prove it to you with just a few simple words, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke again.

“Feel free to stop in again sometime,” you told him. “You're welcome here anytime just like anyone else, Sons’ President or not.” A soft noise almost like a little laugh came next before you added on, “Preferably when I'm open, though.”

His body went rigid at that pleasant, melodic little laugh of yours. Slowly, Jax turned to look over his shoulder at you still standing behind the counter. You were indeed over there smiling, but the urge to be an asshole just to show you what kind of man he really was–that he shouldn't be treated like everyone else–disappeared almost immediately at the sight of it. How the hell did you keep doing that? Keep disarming him so easily with just a goddamn smile?

“I'll keep that in mind,” he muttered.

Without giving you a chance to say more, confused as to the weird effect you seemed to have on him, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the summer evening. The noise from the clubhouse across the street carried its way to Jax’s ears as he began to make his way back over to where the Sons were smoking in the parking lot. He took another drink of his coffee as he went, his thoughts briefly straying to you and that entire strange encounter he'd just had.

There was just something about you that was so damn unfamiliar to Jax. You were all light and warmth, like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Nothing like anyone he'd ever met before in his life and it intrigued him as much as it bothered him. For weeks he had been watching you through your shop window wondering what it would be like to have you smile at him like he'd often seen you smile at all of your other customers, and now he knew. It felt like the summer sun finally rising to start the day after a long, dark night. And Jax found himself oddly craving more of your warmth, suddenly not giving a shit if he got burned in the process.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction

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beatrixst0nehill · 1 day ago

Text

Ethan knocked on Laura's desk, stirring her as she started nodding off to sleep. "Rise and shine, darling!"

"Oh, Mr. Henderson, sorry! I wasn't sleeping, I just.... I probably need a coffee."

"Why not get up and get one?"

Laura blushed. "Ummmm..... I, uh..... I'd rather not get up."

"Now why's that? And straighten up your back, your posture is getting terrible, darling."

Laura tried to sit up straight but didn't quite make it as the weight of her thirty-pound breasts lifted off her desk. "I'll try.... it's getting a bit hard to carry these things."

"Nonsense, you aren't even that large yet, Kim in accounting has breasts double your size and she's fine."

"She uses a wheelchair...."

"See? You just need to get inventive. And if you want to keep earning a paycheck with my company you better not get any funny ideas about skipping your supplements."

"I know, I know..... I like working here. It's just kind of hard to grow such big boobs so fast. I'm not used to it, is all."

"Well, you better be grateful, darling. Since Prop 845 passed, I could technically make extreme pregnancy mandatory or even have you strapped into a fuck machine all shift. I could tell our company insurance to prescribe almost anything to you, or perform any surgery. There are plenty of companies where every female employee is turned into a quad amputee!"

"I know.... Thank you for taking pity on us...... I'm happy to grow such massive breasts for you and all my coworkers to enjoy."

"That's the spirit." Ethan placed his hand on Laura's breasts, squeezing it. "My, they are getting nice and full aren't they."

"Yeah....." Laura blushed and nodded submissively.

"Now you get back to work, but I better not see you dozing off!"

"I know, I just..... these company parties are taking it out of me! It's a struggle to carry my boobs around but to perform for so many men almost every work night until 1am! Sir...... My whole body aches."

"I know, you are quite the trooper, and you're getting very popular with your coworkers. It's impressive watching that pussy and ass of yours take so many hours of abuse in a row. You're quite the seasoned little nymph."

"I don't have much choice...."

"All while carrying these little rays of sunshine." He forcibly pushed back her shoulders, pushing her back in her seat a couple feet, revealing her big round belly sticking out, covered in stretch marks, babies kicking and squirming inside. He held her shoulders up, head tilted back as he kissed her neck smacking her belly a few times. "I appreciate your commitment to the company by getting nice and pregnant from our staff parties."

"I-I don't really have much choice, sir. They fill my pussy up for hours on end every work night......"

"Good girl. I like to think of us as one big family at this company." He squeezed one of her overgrown breasts, causing it to squirt milk through her top. "I'm the dad, and you're the cum-rag little sister we all use to relieve ourselves in." He arched her back more, kissing her on the lips from behind.

Laura tensed up, tapping on his hand holding her shoulders back, the strain from her breasts and belly feeling unbearable. "Ummm! Sir, please let go!"

"Nonsense, darling. Let's have some--"

Laura gasped as a loud click came from her neck. "!!! What was that!?"

"Oh dear, that didn't sound good. I told you sleeping at your desk wasn't a good idea....."

"Uhhhh, I can't feel my arms or legs! Wh-What's going on?"

Ethan smiled, propping her against the back of her chair. He roughly squeezed both of her breasts. "Can you feel that?"

She shook her head. "No...."

"How about this?" He slapped her pregnant belly as hard as he could, so the whole office could hear.

"Nothing.... Mr. Henderson....! I can't feel anything. I can't move anything below my neck!"

"Awwww, poor thing." He suddenly wheeled her out in front of the whole floor. "Announcement everyone. Announcement! Ms. Laura Davis's back just snapped from her unwavering dedication to our company and its bottom line! This is the kind of commitment I want to see from you girls. Now our Laura will need help doing everything from going to the restroom, to getting around the office. Hey, Mason, can you train Ms. Davis on how to use our ocular computer software so she can get back to her remarkable data entry skills. And feel free to have some fun with her along the way, not like she can get up and stop you. From now on, Ms. Davis is free use, I'll be promoting her as our new Stress Relief Expert as of this afternoon! Congratulations, Laura."

The whole floor erupted into applause as people walked up to Laura, congratulating her one by one, some lifted her hand, others grabbed her breasts or rubbed her belly as they congratulated her. Laura gracefully nodded and thanked all of her coworkers, blushing deep red.

One guy reached between her legs, fondling her wet sex. "No reason to hold back anymore, we can go all out and you won't feel a thing. Can't wait to bring the guys to the company party tonight. We're gonna have some serious fun now, girlie."

Laura gulped and nodded. "I-I can't wait.... I'll do my best to satisfy you..... even if I won't feel a thing," she said, almost relieved she won't have to feel every guy at the company relentlessly pound her ass and pussy for hours every work night.... Laura smiled gratefully, thinking to herself it'll be kind of fun to just watch everything happen to her body instead of having to endure it. Even if she'll miss cumming over and over....

#breast expansion #be #breast growth #breast inflation #body modification kink #forced breast expansion #pregnant kink #forced breast inflation #forced impreg #dark kinks #immobile kink

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tourettesdog · 2 days ago

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Hey there! I was just wondering, do you have any DP headcanons that you’d like to share? Any characters you like are good lmao

OOOOOOH boy do I!! owo

I have so many headcanons for this show omg. Just a bunch that I've picked up from reading fics, and chatting with friends, and thought up while planning out fics and prompts. Most of my headcanons center pretty heavily around Danny, since he is the blorbo™️, but I do have hcs for his friends, family, enemies, and more general ones.

This got very long, so it goes under the cut

Danny-focused hcs:

Danny doesn't need to eat much human food (and has a very reduced appetite) while in Amity Park or other ectoplasm-rich places, since his body naturally absorbs energy from ectoplasm. Though his friends and Jazz will still push him to eat even when he's not hungry, to keep his human body healthy. Whenever Danny's in places with less ectoplasm, his appetite returns with a vengeance.

Danny has an ice core and overheats easily in the summer, but in contrast handles winter months with ease. [Sometimes I like to do a reverse of this hc, where the ice core is helpful to him in the summer, but becomes detrimental to his human-side when it gets cold.]

Following the accident, lightning and other sources of raw electricity give Danny anxiety. I like to imagine that during storms he feels the static prickle on his skin.

Danny purrs when happy or content like a cat. In general, I like to imagine cores making all sorts of vibrations, hums, chirps, and other sounds.

Danny has no heartbeat in Phantom form, and doesn't need to breathe (but does so anyway out of habit). In contrast, his heartbeat and breaths per minute (as well as his core body temperature) are much lower than a standard human's.

Danny is trans and came out at a young age. Following the accident, the shock of the portal messed with his glands/hormones and he hasn't had a period since. He also hasn't grown since, with his height being stunted at around 5 foot. (In general, I like to HC that Danny takes after Maddie more in height, with Jazz getting all the tall genes from Jack.)

I like to imagine that Danny loses interest in becoming an astronaut after the accident. Existential dread + gaining the ability to explore a vast realm with many more interesting things in it will do that to a bastard.

I like to do Ghost King stuff with Danny sometimes, but I honestly prefer the idea that he just like has a claim to the throne, but in the same way that a king's 57 bastard children all would have a claim to his throne. (But the king isn't really gone anyway, so anyone with that claim is just sitting on a useless prince title while Pariah slumbers.)

I love the idea of ghost obsessions, and Danny specifically having one that is either focused around protection or helping. If the obsession is in regards to protection, I like to imagine it stems less from him thinking Sam and Tucker were in harms way when the portal went off, and more from him wishing someone would protect him/that he could protect himself.

I like to imagine that Danny (and all ghosts) won't outright fade if they fail to perform their obsession, however. I just imagine that it makes them extremely unhappy, anxious, and sickly. Danny, due to only being half-dead, has some more resilience with this too, I imagine.

I love giving Danny lasting scars, especially lichtenberg figures from the portal. I think it's particularly fun to have the scars wrap up his arm and across neck and/or face.

In addition to his scars, Danny experiences chronic pain and nerve issues in his arm associated with the accident.

I love the hc that Danny's wail is the same sort of scream he let out when he died in the portal.

In terms of orientation, I hc Danny as being asexual and then either biromantic or homoromantic, depending on what I'm feeling for the story. I both love the idea of him being biromantic, or him thinking for a long time that he had to like girls as a trans boy, before later accepting that he was gay. (I also love everlasting trio as a ship, so polyromantic is on the table too.)

Sam-focused hcs:

Sam gets a much better grip on her activism in late high school, after getting humbled a bit. This includes shifting her focus to supporting more sustainable forms of farming, rather than outright decrying the slaughter of animals. (I imagine she herself becomes a vegetarian after this, rather than a vegan.)

Sam was already on the fence about eating meat prior to the portal, but gave it up for good (and briefly became very belligerent about it), because she couldn't get the smell of the portal accident out of her nose. Cooked meat makes her feel sick for a very long time, especially pork.

I love hcs that Sam either dyes her hair and/or wears colored contacts.

Sam becomes rather liminal from being around Danny and the Zone, and retains some plant-based powers from Undergrowth. Overtime, Sam will start to develop a proto-core and have her senses altered by it.

Linked with the previous hc, I like to hc Sam as being prone to sensory overload, and this being exacerbated by an increase in her hearing following the portal.

As an adult, Sam funnels her passion for activism into journalism.

Tucker-focused hcs:

Tucker is hard-of-hearing and requires the use of hearing aids. Being reliant on technology from a young age helped kickstart his interest in it. Also, because of Tucker's disability, both Danny, Sam, Jazz, and eventually Val learn sign language to converse more easily with him.

Following the portal, Tucker is forced to modify his tech (and in particular his hearing aids) to interact more neutrally with ectoplasm.

I like to imagine that Tucker is very forceful with hitting on girls as, similar to Danny, he is fighting against some internalized homophobia. In terms of orientation, I imagine he is pansexual, with a preference for masculine individuals.

Like Sam, Tucker becomes rather liminal following the portal accident, and may develop tech-based powers. While Sam's ears are much more affected by liminality, Tucker instead experiences a dramatic shift in his vision.

Tucker might be an only child, but he comes from a very large, very supportive family that's all over various parts of the US.

Tucker has some food sensitivities, especially in regards to texture. He's definitely somewhere on the autism spectrum, alongside Danny and Jazz.

Tucker was the one to initiate friendship with both Danny and Sam. He met Danny when they were in preschool and insisted on being friends, and dragged Sam into their small group later on after meeting her in elementary-middle school when her family moved to Amity.

Tucker's eyes are brown or a dark hazel, rather than the teal they're depicted as in the show.

Val-focused hcs:

After getting ousted from her previous friend group, Valerie feels more comfortable with exploring some hobbies she previously didn't feel comfortable with around Paulina and Star. This includes video games, card collecting, and skateboarding.

Val's mother passed away when she was a very young child, and she has little to no memories of her.

Val's eyes are brown, rather than the green they're depicted as in the show.

Val becomes very liminal due to her suit-- much more liminal than both Tucker and Sam. By the time she's an adult, Val has a proto-core at the very least, and a sizeable grasp on controlling tech.

Valerie is bisexual, with a large preference for women that she doesn't explore until being ousted from her old friend group.

It isn't until college, when they've learned more about themselves and their internalized biases, that Val starts to reconnect with her old friends.

Jazz-focused hcs:

Jazz is much taller than Danny, and reaches over 6 foot tall by the time she stops growing.

Jazz is bisexual, and has known she is for a long time after helping Danny come out as trans and doing some of her own personal research.

I like to imagine that Jazz either becomes a child therapist or teacher after watching her little brother and his friends struggle in their formative years. Though I also really like the hc that Jazz, rather than Danny, becomes very interested in the technical and tinkering aspects of their parents' work.

I imagine around the end of HS that Jazz realizes she really shouldn't be psychoanalyzing and giving therapy to family and friends.

Jazz's driving is just as terrifying as Jack's, and her car is a beat-up old mess covered in dings and scratches.

Jazz likes to cook, but creates the biggest messes while doing so. In general, organized chaos is her MO.

Like Danny's friends, Jazz is rather liminal. She's less liminal than Val, though more so than Sam and Tuck, due to living directly over the portal. I imagine this comes with a heightened sense of emotion, as well as hearing.

I like to imagine that Jazz is just as, if not more nervous than Danny about him revealing his secret to their parents. To her, it feels similar to the danger of a trans kid coming out of the closet in a transphobic household, and while she'd like to believe their parents would accept Danny as a halfa, she's not willing to chance the risk while he's still dependent on them and they have not changed their tune on ghosts.

Jazz is so focused on helping Danny survive his teens that it isn't until she's like 25-30 that she really starts to unpack her own trauma.

General Amity and ghost hcs:

Amity Park is a bit colder than the surrounding region, due to the heavy presence of ghosts.

The ghosts have also altered the native wildlife. Many native species of animals have fled, or otherwise adjusted their behavior to account for ghostly neighbors. It's not uncommon to see ghostly ducks swimming alongside living ones, or feral groups of cats with some being more transparent than the rest.

Because of the Box Ghost, many residents in Amity Park start to get into the habit of unboxing their groceries as soon as possible. There's more than one spot where boxes can be left in a pile, and it's rare that they remain there for more than a day.

In general, I like to imagine that Amity really embraces the ghostliness, with some shops even taking it up as a theme. It's not uncommon to see Halloween decorations all year round, including ghosts with little Santa hats come Christmas.

Because of all of the ectoplasm in the air, technology has a habit of acting very strangely in Amity Park. Most advanced tech needs to be altered to work correctly within city limits.

Blob ghosts are very endearing, and more than one Amity Parker has one as a pet.

Okay, this got Very long so I'm gonna stop it here cause I could just Keep Going. Especially where stuff like the Far Frozen or crossovers are concerned, but those are for another time lol.

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanons #danny phantom hcs #hcs #dp hcs #dp #dogbarks #dog replies #jacquehohenheim

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