#i basically abandoned this place HELP i'm so sorry

[hugispuso-archive]

hello is anyone alive...

[willoftheabyss]

Just wanted to say hii same pfp :)

true hiii ^_^

[kkuras-gamer-gf]

Stress relief | Sophia laforteza

Smut. I am so sorry this is filthy. (Im not sorry)

G!pLawyer!Sophia, the suit stays on during sex, tie used as handcuffs, dom!Sophia who had a long day in court, just filthy, she spits in your mouth, breeding kink (pregnancy mentioned), overstimulation.

10:38 PM

Lying on your bed, you stare at the clock near the top of your dresser. Your TV was playing some movie you didn't bother paying attention to; you were too busy counting the minutes until your wife returned home from work.

A lawyer, her work almost consumed her; a case showed up on her desk a week ago, and you've only seen her in the deep hours of the night. But she called, the case already settled, and her voice dripped with exhaustion and a hint of excitement at finally seeing you before 3 am.

Finally the door lock turned; you heard the jingle of her keys and the clatter as she threw them on her desk. Dress shoes clicked on your wood floors, sending a shiver down your spine.

When she appeared in the doorway, your heart nearly stopped. Glasses hanging on the tip of her nose, red lipstick slightly smudged, her tie is loosened, and the top few buttons of her white shirt are open, exposing her chest, while her jacket is coming off and thrown to the chair in the corner.

A tired smile is on her face as she looks at you, abandoning her bag full of paperwork on the floor and quickly taking off her shoes.

"Hey, baby." Raspy and exhausted, kneeling on the bed and placing a kiss on your lips before sitting next to you against the headboard.

Taking the opportunity, you climb onto her lap, fingers immediately playing with the collar of her shirt.

"I missed you." You whisper, "How was work?"

"Same as always." She rolls her eyes, "My employees don't know how to do anything." Horrible listeners." A pout forms on her lips as she closes her eyes.

"My hardworking girl." Your hands now loosening her tie a bit more, "Sounds like you need some stress relief." Slightly grinding against her, she was already half hard, but you could feel her twitch at that, reaching for her glasses to set them on the side table.

"Yeah?" Opening her eyes, pupils dilated while some of the tiredness left at your suggestion.

You just hum in response, pulling on her tie so her lips meet yours in a kiss.

"I'm a good listener too."

Sophia's hips roll subtly at that; when losing control at work, she knew you'd be her good girl and do what she wanted. You were basically offering yourself up for her.

"Hm, how about you take this off then?" Her fingers pull at the hem of your, well, her, t-shirt.

Slowly, you pull it up. You shouldn't tease her; she had a long day. But you can't resist as you reveal your chest, bare as you were ready for bed.

"Fuck, baby." Hands reaching out as soon as the annoying fabric of your shirt was gone, "You're so gorgeous."

You throw the cloth out onto the floor, paying no attention to where. Only clad in your underwear now, a dark wet patch on them.

Your wife's lips wrap around a nipple, fingers twisting the other. Your own hand tangles in her hair, trying to pull her even closer.

"Soph," you whine, hips rolling over her.

"Be patient."

The Filipina's voice is demanding; you contemplate your promise of being a good listener, and truly you meant to listen, but your hands grab at her anyways, trying and failing to free her cock from the tight pants she's wearing.

Without warning, she flips both of you over. Hands pulling at the tie around her neck, a huff leaving her nose.

"Tired of people not fucking listening." She mutters, grabbing ahold of your wrists and wrapping the fabric around them, tying a knot to keep them together and above your head, "No touching." Pointedly looking at your now bound hands.

Finally the metal buckle of her belt jingles as she undoes it, unbuttoning and unzipping her nice dress pants. Not bothering to take them off, just pulling her cock out, thick and veined.

You can't help but lift your hips and try to rub against her; you're met with strong hands pushing you down.

"Be good and take what I give you, yeah?"

Her hands almost savagely pull at your underwear, and you can swear you hear them rip as she takes them off you. Throwing them to the side to join your shirt.

The stark contrast of your bare body and her nearly fully clothed one makes the tension in the air even thicker. Though you didn't need it, she let saliva drip from her tongue to your center. Taking hold of her tip to spread it through your folds.

Then slowly, her tip is pushing into you. Too slowly, and then it's gone. Only for a few seconds before she repeats the movement, she does this a few times. Eyes trained to where she's entering you, clearly fascinated by the site. A light brush of her thumb pad over your clit is what has you reeling.

"Please, Soph." You whine, too bratty and whiny in the Filipina's eyes.

"Shh." It's short but demanding and mixed with a glare that shuts you up quick.

It doesn't last long when she pushes into you again, this time allowing a couple more inches but freezing in place. Your tied-up hands reach down to her hips, desperately using the little movement available to try and pull her fully into you, which she stops quickly with a hand around your throat.

It wasn't fair to be a brat when she's tired and upset from work. But how else would you help her feel better? Other than to let her take what she wants, working her up so she can release all of that stress.

"You do this shit on purpose, huh? So I'll fuck you harder?" It's venomous, but it makes you clench around her. "It turns you on, doesn't it? When I turn you into my little toy?" Bottoming out inside of you as a form of punctuation with her dark voice.

"Fuck! Yes, yes!"

"Yeah? My slut wants to get ruined, right?"

Her own head is nodding, answering for you while you mirror the movement. Her cock finally thrusting in and out, the pace is quick, Sophia unable to hold herself back now that she started. The head hitting lightly against your cervix with every push.

You could swear she was made for you, specially sculpted to fit perfectly inside of you. Filling your pussy in just the right way. The tips of her fingers have just the right roughness as she reaches a hand to rub fast, tight circles on your clit.

The sound that rips from your throat can't be distinguished from a scream or sob as the hand on your neck tightens, strangling the noise.

"You gonna cum? Hm?" Looking down knowingly, the way your walls tighten and your hands ball into fists.

Tears now stream down your face as your first orgasm hits; you can feel the rush of liquid between you. Cries of pleasure echoing off the walls.

"Want my cum, baby?"

Her hips stuttered, fingers tightening wherever they were.

"Fuck, yes. Please, I want you to fill me up." Managing to get the words out in between tears.

"Shit. You'd look so pretty with my baby." That has you turned on all over again, which isn't unnoticed. "Yeah? Want my baby?"

Words don't come out, just a response of harsh head nods. And she fulfills the wish, only stopping her thrusts to empty herself inside of you.

Then she pulls out, letting the white liquid drip down; you swear you can see her pupils grow at the sight. It doesn't last long before she runs the head of her cock through your slit to recollect it, pushing it back inside of you.

See, Sophia wasn't one to deny an orgasm; I mean, she loved making you feel good. But you learned she uses that to her advantage, instead pushing you over the edge over and over again.

"S-soph, I c-can't." Hands now grasping at her hips to push her away, not that you actually wanted her to stop. Of course she puts a stop to that, hands gripping your wrists and forcing them to your chest as she continues her thrusts.

"But I thought you wanted to cum?" Faux confusion on her face, "Don't be fucking ungrateful." Her pace was getting rougher with each word.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming again, back arching off the mattress. Eyes rolling back, you can't even moan at this point. Your vision is a bit blurry.

"Wanna fill you up," Sophia mutters, not slowing her hips. It's overwhelming; tears line your eyes, coupled with moans that could be mistaken for cries.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." A thumb wipes at your cheek, making no effort for comfort but admiring her work and the way she ruined you.

"Soph, it's too much."

"I don't care." Proving her point by making her thrusts harsher, though slower, a torturous combination.

Bruises litter your hips from strong hands grabbing at you, the usual mark of a bad day at work.

Then she lifts your legs over her shoulders, pressing them to your chest. So you could feel it, really feel it, feel her. And you did. Everything.

The noises you want are completely involuntary and near animalistic as she rams into you. And as she fills you up once again, you shake again, your body going limp this time.

Sophia is shameless, leaning down as she pulls out and swirling her tongue over to collect your arousal, pushing in to lap up her own cum from you, mixed with yours.

It's what she does next that takes you by surprise, painted fingers still clad with rings grabbing your jaw and forcing your mouth open. Sticking her tongue out so the mix of cum and saliva drips into your mouth, forcefully shutting it so you swallow, and spreading the liquid that escaped on your chin and leaving a light tap to your cheek, a wicked grin on her face.

Sophia takes pleasure in how wrecked you are, chest heaving and thighs shaking. Brown eyes staring in adoration, hands that were once harshly grabbing now gently massaging your thighs.

"Are you okay?" It was genuine, but there was a hint of pride in her tone, obviously proud of her work.

"Mm." Head nodding, barely. More than happy with the outcome.

"Thank you."

Still towering over you, still in that damn work suit with a wide, sweet smile as she starts to clean you up. Of course you'd be her stress relief.

[vi-tamine]

Heyyyyy!!!

If you are up for it, I'd love to see you write a Silco x Reader Story🙏🏻

Reader was like an older Sibling to Powder, Vi, Mylo and Clagger, making sure the kids were always okay. So that day, when almost everyone died and Silco took in Powder/Jinx, Reader went with them to keep an eye on Jinx. They turn more into a Parental Figure over time for her. Reader and Silco hated each other at first but tried to remain civil for Jinx. Over time feelings developed and both are in denial. So basically Enemies to Lovers.

Also Reader takes care of like the Bar, since they have already worked there when Vander was still alive. [Either behind the counter as a Bartender or as like Security]

Idc if its Fluffy or Angsty or smutty or smth!

I just need more Silco x Reader🙏🏻😭

at home (silco x reader)

words: 1517

genre(s): fluff, angst (i think..)

warnings: none

n/a: im sooo happy!!! thank u so much for requesting me!! this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous about it! i hope you like it and enjoy it a little!! i did my best!! want to remember that english isn't my first language, so im sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes, but this also helps me to improve :]

You were twenty years old when it all happened. When Mylo and Claggor died and Vi ran away after all the tragedy trying to rescue Vander from Silco's hands. You were the oldest of the three sisters, always under your care, even though you allowed them some freedom for their “missions” you always kept an eye on your sisters, in case it was necessary to get them out of some trouble. 

That day, you went to help your brothers get Vander back, making Powder promise not to move from the basement. When the whole mess happened, you were barely aware of whatever was going on. One of your arms had been trapped under the rubble and you heard Powder's distant cries for Vi to come back for her. As best you could, you pulled yourself together, pushed away the debris over your arm and made your way to find the youngest of your sisters, the one that sounded closest. The crying seemed to be weaker, and when you looked up Silco had his arms around her as she hugged him, right next to Vander's lifeless body. You approached cautiously, brow furrowed at the whole unfamiliar situation. 

“Stay away from her” you addressed Silco with a firm voice and furrowed brows. He did so without complaint, looking at you, keeping his composure and probably waiting for a move on your part that never came.  Powder turned to look at you, her blue eyes brimming with tears. She hugged your legs, and before you knew it, you were both leaving with Silco and his people. 

Seven years later you decided to take Vander's place in “The Last Drop”. Silco “signed it over” to you while he took one of the rooms to be his office. You were a little grateful that he would let you carry on the legacy of the one he once considered his brother. 

You poured one last drink before Jinx sat down on one of the stools and rolled your eyes as you watched her turn in on herself. “Get your feet off the stool if you're going to be sitting here” you scolded her as you cleaned one of the glasses and poured her the juice she always asked for. “Thank you~” she thanked taking a sip from the straw. “I've been working on one of those grenades I showed you, and even though it explodes poorly, it's getting more and more powerful!” she explained somewhat excitedly as she looked at you with a slight smile. During all these years your sister had grown more than you would have liked. Sometimes nostalgia hit you, and all you could think about was how much older she had gotten and how rebellious and uncontrollable she had become.

 Mylo and Claggor's death and Vi's abandonment left some aftereffects on your sister. Jinx was the name she had decided to adopt after Vi called her that name before abandoning her to her fate without even knowing if you were alive. Together with Silco you had raised her, and although you always tried to take her on a healthy and untroubled path, she ended up paying more attention to Silco than to you. 

During all these years your vision of Silco was changing, and all the resentment and anger you had towards him, had been loosening when you saw the love and effort he put in wanting to take care of your sister. Your attitude towards him became more passive, and his attitude towards you became sweeter and more protective. You both had your sister, Jinx, as your priority. 

“Be careful with those gadgets or someday your finger will explode.” you joked with your sister as you leaned your elbows on the bar to look at her. “I do know how to build inventions, sis, not like you” she joked with you before getting a tap on her shoulder from you. You rolled your eyes letting out a light chuckle. “By the way, Silco wants to see you” he spoke as he rubbed his shoulder with a pout. You frowned and sighed. “You take care of the drinks for a while then” you stepped out from behind the bar, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Jinx hopped over the bar to tend to the customers and scolded her for it before walking up to Silco's office.

You felt your heart beating stronger and stronger as you got closer to Silco's office. Since a few days ago your vision of the man who had given (somehow) shelter to you and your sister, apart from starting to respect him, perhaps your feelings towards him had taken a different direction, a more romantic one. Every night you told yourself that it was wrong, if you thought about it, it was against your morals and principles to like Silco, so you tried to hold back that feeling as much as you could. 

You knocked on the door, and after hearing a low “Come in”, you entered the room, allowing you to see Silco in his chair as usual and Sevika next to him. They both looked at you, and with a slight gesture, Silco had Sevika leave the room, closing the door behind her. You sat down in the chair in front of the table, sighing and making yourself comfortable as you noticed how her gaze was fixed on you. 

“What is it this time, what has Jinx done to what-” you couldn't finish formulating the sentence Silco cut you off. “Your sister is out of jail” your back and your whole body started to bristle. “With the help of a Piltover enforcer.” You discovered that Vi had been arrested and sent to Stillwater. Seven years later she seemed to have gotten out. A confused feeling invaded your body. You were happy, your sister had been released. And at the same time you were filled with rage, she had abandoned you and your sister. Then came the feeling of guilt, you were the oldest, much older than them, and you had let your sister be arrested, you had not fought for her. You swallowed and immediately got up from the couch. “Don't let Jinx know. Not yet, at least.” you left the room without even looking or listening to what Silco would have to tell you.

. . . . . . 

Later that night, having just closed the bar and with only the music to keep you company, you finished putting the last chairs back on the tables and mopping the floor. Before you even went to sleep you decided to pour yourself a shot of whiskey. You sat on the freshly cleaned bar and, with your mother's favorite song playing in the background, you thought about everything. Your parents, your sisters, brothers, Vander, Silco, everything. The alcohol scratched your throat as you thought about how you were going to confront Vi at some point, what you would say to her, how she would be, how she would react to seeing who you were with. Maybe she would understand you if she realized you were doing it all for Jinx. Maybe she would martyr you if she knew about your feelings for Silco. 

“May I have some?” a voice from behind you shuddered. Turning slightly to grab a glass, you saw Silco planted behind you. You nodded wordlessly, pouring for him as well and watching as he took a long sip. He looked back at you. “Why the long face?” he asked. You laughed wryly. “As if you didn't know” you replied clicking your tongue. You didn't want to talk down to him, but your feelings at that moment were what they were. He seemed to understand, he didn't add a word.

 He set the glass down on the bar and one of your hands rested on your shoulder, lightly trailing down your arm. “She's going to understand.” he simply said. You shook your head, also dropping the glass and looking sideways at him. “She's not going to understand. She can't. I don't blame her. I'm a horrible sister.” you sighed. You felt like your eyes were going to release tears at any moment. You noticed Silco's rough hand touch yours, embrace yours with his fingers and with his thumb caress the back of your hand. You let yourself be touched. “We should have left, Silco. We don't belong here. It's not our place. I should have taken Pow-” you couldn't finish your sentence Silco had crashed his lips to yours. You couldn't even react when he broke away. You looked at him still dumbfounded. 

“If she doesn't understand, we're going to make her understand. But don't you ever, ever, ever say again that you don't belong here. You do. You belong by my side,” and when he finished speaking you couldn't help but kiss his lips back. Your heart had just exploded like a bomb, and Silco had detonated it. There were probably going to be repercussions, surely none of this was going to go well, but for the first time, when you were dancing in his arms, you felt at home again.

[maroonshirt81]

hey! did you see that post going around with drunk!Oscar looking completely out of it, some guy's hand around his waist? I remember you mentioned somewhere you like writing drunk scenes. could you write something carcar with this kind of dummy!drunk Oscar? that would make my day ❤️

You are completely right about my tendency to write fics where the characters are drunk. After this one, there are at least 3 more coming up. Clocked! And I don't even drink alcohol, hah! (also write a lot of porn for an asexual, so... make of that what you will.)

I didn't find the exact post you're referring to, but I'm guessing you meant this flavor of Oscar:

I've already postet a snippet of this, but here's the full, almost 6k of dummy!drunk carcar, rated M

----

Carlos let his gaze wander across the opulent, marble-columned room. It was the kind of space that belonged in a palace, but was in fact just the banquet hall of a local luxury hotel.

He wrinkled his nose, finding it all a bit tacky. This was a fundraiser for a school, for fuck’s sake! Granted, a fancy private school, but still. Not the goddamn royal wedding. Yet the board had spared no expense to impress the parents and grandparents of their future students.

The hall was lined on both sides with tables, overflowing with canapés and champagne flutes, from which an army of waiters continuously filled their trays, gliding from guest to guest to ensure not a single throat went dry.

Clearly, the master plan was to get everyone drunk enough to leave a generous check with their signature on it before the night was over.

Carlos had no idea why the teachers had to be part of this farce. They stood out in their ill-fitting suits like ducklings at a swan convention, clearly out of place.

His eyes landed on Charles, surrounded by a group of older ladies, his gaze silently screaming for help. A bit farther off stood Max, sulking in a corner with his arms crossed, shooting death glares at anyone who dared approach him. And in the opposite corner, Carlos spotted his least favorite colleague, Oscar – who he’d bet was having the worst time of all, trapped among privileged older people, forced to make small talk about what blessings their spoiled children were.

Instead, he found Oscar with a big, dopey smile on his face, eyes narrower than Carlos had ever seen them, a deep flush on his cheeks. He held an empty champagne flute in his hand, and there... there was an arm, slung low around his waist. Far too low. It belonged to some older man whose face was way too close to Oscar’s to be appropriate. Especially considering Oscar was clearly drunk out of his mind.

Before Carlos had even formed a proper plan, he was already striding across the hall, setting his empty glass on a passing tray.

Just because he didn’t like Oscar didn’t mean he’d let him get groped in the middle of a work function. As private school teachers, they already gave up enough dignity to these kinds of parents, money often speaking louder than real effort or basic decency.

“Good evening,” Carlos said politely once he reached the group of older men surrounding Oscar. “I’m terribly sorry, but I need to steal Mr. Piastri for a moment – we’re supposed to prepare the presentation later and he’s the only one who knows the password for the file.”

Oscar turned to him, that big, stupid smile still plastered on his face. “Wot?”

It took serious effort to keep his own fake smile in place, especially since the massive hand resting at the curve of Oscar’s ass didn’t even twitch.

“The presentation, Oscar,” Carlos repeated, enunciating pointedly. “I sent you an email about it earlier today.” When Oscar just gave a slow blink in response, Carlos turned to the men with exaggerated exasperation. “Math guys,” he sighed. “Famously terrible communicators.”

The overly hands-on man beside Oscar broke into loud, boisterous laughter, and Carlos swore he saw that giant hand slide even lower in his peripheral vision. He might’ve blacked out for a second. Abandoning the high road, Carlos grabbed the stranger’s hand and pulled it off Oscar’s ass, slipping an arm around his colleague’s back instead to steer him away from the predatory crowd. There was a chorus of surprised gasps and awkward chuckles behind him, and Carlos could only hope the guy wasn’t going to file a complaint with the higher-ups.

Oscar stumbled along with him, his side easily melting into Carlos’s, which was strange, because Oscar was usually stiff as a board, groaning like he was seventy every time he stood up from a chair. Now, he felt like liquid, easily guided across the room and out a side door. Carlos paused for a moment, getting his bearings. They’d ended up in a dim corridor, but there was light to the left, so he followed it, rounding the corner and finding an entrance to a long sunroom that opened into the hotel’s rear gardens.

He maneuvered Oscar’s boneless body through two sliding doors until they stood outside on the terrace, the summer evening breeze brushing soothingly against their skin.

Oscar made no attempt to free himself from Carlos’s arm. He probably needed the support. His head tilted as he looked around with slow, confused blinks.

“Is your laptop out here?” he asked.

“Oh my god!” Carlos took the empty champagne flute from Oscar’s hand and set it down on a mosaic table, then rounded on his hammered colleague. “You do realise that old creep’s hand was basically kneading your ass, right?”

Oscar gave him wide eyes – at least as wide as they would go in his state, which wasn’t very wide at all.

“Oh, no, he was just being a little overly friendly,” he waved it off with a shrug. “You know. American.”

“Yeah? Is that so? Do Americans usually stick their tongues in your ear at professional functions?”

Oscar, unbelievably, giggled like Carlos had just made a joke and didn’t even follow up on it. Instead, he slowly sank down to the tiled floor, his side dragging against Carlos’s. Apparently, the groaning like a dying animal wasn’t limited to getting up – it made an appearance even when he was sitting– or rather, lying down on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asked, incredulous.

“Head’s spinning a bit,” Oscar said, eyes closed.

“Yes, no shit. Are you going to throw up?”

Oscar snorted, opening one crinkly eye to peek up at Carlos. “From what?” he asked. “I didn’t drink any alcohol. I’m at work! I only had that funny, sparkly orange juice.”

“You mean the mimosas?” Carlos groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “Oscar! How many?”

Oscar gave him a blank look, then visibly blanched.

“Why do they have mimosas at a fancy gala?” he whined, instead of answering Carlos’s question. “Aren’t they for brunch and stuff?”

“Yes, but what kind of clientele do you think the parents of our students are? They made sure to have everyone’s favorite drink on hand!”

Oscar mumbled something unintelligible which Carlos was 90% sure was “They are pretty good…” and Carlos shook his head, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I’m calling you an Uber,” he said, resolute.

Oscar didn’t even try to argue. He folded his hands over his belly and closed his eyes, face relaxed and content, very unlike his usual expression of mild constipation.

The nearest Uber was still a while out. They were on a secluded hilltop overlooking the ocean – an ideal setting for a whodunit, and Carlos could only hope Oscar didn’t drop dead and leave him as the prime suspect – miles away from the city.

“Don’t fall asleep now!” he warned, nudging Oscar with his foot. “I won’t carry your drunk ass all the way to the parking lot!”

“Hm yes, because you couldn’t,” Oscar murmured, clearly half-asleep. Of course he’s out of it enough to let some randy retiree grope him in the middle of a gala and not even register the violation – but God forbid he miss a chance to throw shade at Carlos.

“I teach sports,” Carlos reminded him, offended despite himself. “I’m fit! Of course I could carry you!”

“Really?” Oscar cracked open his eyes again, squinting up at him through the terrace lights. He looked Carlos up and down, then smiled. In a soft voice, he said, “Prove it?”

And honestly, Carlos would not have. He would not have fallen for it – if it weren’t for that soft voice and that stupid, froggy smile, a reminder of just how utterly wasted Oscar was. He would have laughed in his face and said, “You wish,” and then abandoned him on the terrace floor while he found Lando to dump the responsibility on.

Instead, he crouched down and hooked his arms under Oscar’s armpits.

Oscar’s hands wrapped around his neck without needing direction. And even though he looked like a sack of rice left on the ground, he lifted easily – body loose, melting into every curve of Carlos’s frame. He was warm against the breeze. And he smelled… surprisingly good. Carlos couldn’t place it. Something sweet. Something that made him feel hungry.

He was tempted to just throw Oscar over his shoulder and carry him toward the garden, where he knew there was a gate leading to the parking lot. At the last second, though, he decided that Oscar had already lost enough dignity for one day. So he merely set him upright, wrapped an arm around his waist for support, and gently nudged him in the direction of the stairs.

“You call this carrying?” Oscar grumbled, dragging his feet.

“I just decided I’d prefer not to have your puke dripping down my back,” Carlos said. “Careful! Steps.”

Oscar nearly didn’t make it down the obstacle of the three narrow steps into the garden, because, incredibly, a series of bubbly giggles burst from his throat – the kind usually reserved for Lando’s antics. It caught Carlos so off-guard that he almost missed a step himself. Thankfully, he managed to catch both of them in time, steadying Oscar by pulling him back into his side.

“Are you okay?” he asked, because Oscar giggling at something he said could only mean something was seriously wrong.

Oscar let out a low hum and allowed Carlos to guide him gently into the garden. It was darker here, though the stone path was lit by a row of soft ground lights. The way to the parking lot had to be somewhere nearby, but everything looked so different in the dark that Carlos briefly lost his sense of direction.

He stopped at a junction, glancing around.

“Can you stand on your own for a second?” he asked Oscar, who took a reluctant step back so Carlos could fish his phone out of his pocket. Google Maps wasn’t particularly helpful, but at least it confirmed the parking lot was somewhere to their left, and he should be looking for a gate on that side.

He had just stuffed his phone back in his pocket when Oscar sagged forward against him, forehead pressed to Carlos’s shoulder. Carlos barely caught him in time to keep them from toppling over backward.

“Whoa! What are you–”

“Sorry, just got dizzy for a sec,” Oscar mumbled into his shoulder, warm breath seeping right through Carlos’s shirt. There it was again – that sweet scent, stronger than the surrounding rose bushes. Carlos had to fight the urge to bury his nose in Oscar’s hair and take a deep breath. Instead, he carefully wrapped both arms around Oscar’s waist to steady him.

“Idiot,” Carlos murmured, but it came out far too fond – maybe because of the low voices they were using, or because it was hard to fall into their usual rhythm when Oscar was being so unusually soft and vulnerable. This whole side of him was completely derailing Carlos. He hadn’t known Oscar could be warm or affectionate. He hadn’t known Oscar smelled good. He hadn’t known his breath would feel hot through layers of clothing. If he had known, he definitely wouldn’t have carried him out here, into the garden, where the lights were dim, the insects buzzed lazily in the bushes, and the two of them were alone, pressed together from head to toe.

“Better?” Carlos asked after a moment, unable to stop his hand from drawing slow, soothing circles on Oscar’s back.

Oscar hummed an affirmative against his shoulder and finally pulled back slightly – not out of Carlos’s space, not really, but at least his lips were no longer touching him. When Carlos dared to meet Oscar’s far-too-close eyes, he spotted that same froggy little smile again.

“You’re being too nice to me,” Oscar said, barely audible despite how close he was. “It’s freaking me out.”

“I am always nice!” Carlos protested – relieved, honestly, to return to some form of arguing, even if his hands still hadn’t gotten the message and kept tracing slow circles on Oscar’s back. “You’re the one always picking fights with me!”

Oscar looked amused by that. His eyes crinkled even more than before, pale skin rippling with too many lines – not just around his eyes, but at the corners of his mouth, too. He looked like a different person. Then again, he’d looked different all night, ever since showing up with his hair brushed and in a suit, albeit a slightly-too-small one that hugged his ass so tightly Carlos had been distracted even before this drunken debacle began.

Maybe it was time to admit that Oscar was… actually really good-looking. And good-smelling. God, what a terrible thing to realize about your least favorite coworker.

“I’m sure I was antagonizing you when you scratched up my car in the parking lot, huh?” Oscar said, predictably, since it was the origin of their strained relationship. But for once, there was no real bite to it.

“You were parked like a jackass!” Carlos shot back with his usual retort. It was so worn out now it barely held any weight. “How was I supposed to see you sticking halfway out of the space?”

“Maybe look into getting some glasses if you’re that blind,” Oscar said, and then, without warning, went off-script. “Might actually look good on you.”

“Yeah?” Carlos breathed, too thrown to come up with a good comeback.

“Mmhm,” Oscar hummed again, one hand rising to brush against the place where the frame of a pair of glasses might sit. His long nails dragged gently under Carlos’s eyes, too light to scratch. Very, very slowly, Oscar leaned in further, his body melting into Carlos’s, one knee sliding between his legs.

Carlos inhaled sharply and let it out in a slow exhale. “Jesus, Oscar,” he finally said.

Oscar’s thumb drifted down Carlos’s cheekbone toward the corner of his mouth. He didn’t speak, just stared at the movement of his own hand like it was hypnotic. By the time he reached Carlos’s lips, both of them were breathing hard. No more laugh-lines on Oscar’s face – just the pale glow of his skin, only disturbed by a smattering of moles and the plush, pink hint of what hid inside his open mouth.

A shrill ringtone made them jump apart just in time. Carlos scrambled to pull his phone from the pocket of his suit pants, which suddenly felt much tighter than before.

Shit. He’d completely forgotten about the Uber!

“Sorry! We’re on our way!” he barked into the phone, then grabbed Oscar – who was giggling – by the arms and dragged him down the path.

They nearly walked past the small garden gate, which wasn’t lit at all. Fortunately, Carlos caught a flash of headlights from the waiting car and managed to deliver his completely wasted coworker to the parking lot before the driver could leave due to a no-show.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he apologized to the man, who was pacing impatiently in front of his car. “We got lost in the garden.”

Opening the back door, he gently maneuvered Oscar onto the seat, where he slumped against the window, soft like mashed potatoes. He didn’t move a muscle as Carlos half-climbed over him to pull the seatbelt across and buckle him in. The car’s back seat was mostly dark, but a bit of light caught in the whites of Oscar’s eyes, and on the soft curve of his lips. He was looking up at Carlos with that quiet, contented smile Carlos had never seen before today.

As Carlos started to pull away, Oscar grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“Back inside, obviously,” Carlos whispered, matching Oscar’s soft voice. “I can’t just ditch work. If anyone notices you’re gone, I’ll cover for you, okay?”

Oscar didn’t let go. Still smiling, he said, “Then I can’t go either.”

“What? Do you not trust me, or–”

“No, I don’t,” Oscar said, though he was clearly just teasing. “But I also can’t go home. Sophie made me put all my stuff in her purse because she said my bulging pockets ruined the fit of the pants. I don’t have my house keys on me.”

Carlos suppressed a groan and tried to ignore the driver growing more impatient behind him.

If he had to stumble all the way back to the hotel now, find Sophie in the massive hall, all while avoiding their bosses and the old men he’d antagonized…

“You’ll have to take me to your place,” Oscar whispered, tightening his grip on Carlos’s sleeve.

“Oh,” Carlos said.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Horrible. Catastrophic.

He found himself settling into the middle seat before his brain could come up with more disastrous synonyms, buckling in while Oscar’s limp hand dropped from Carlos’s sleeve, right onto his thigh.

“Ready?” the driver called from outside and shut the door before Carlos could reply.

Two minutes later, they were on the road to Carlos’s apartment. A slow song played on the radio, streetlights flashing sparsely past the windows. Oscar’s hand stayed on his thigh, unmoving. A radioactive weight, pressing him down into the seat and keeping his pants tight.

He couldn’t even see Oscar’s face in the dark – just the occasional flicker of silhouette when they passed a streetlight. After a while, Oscar’s head tilted bit by bit until it rested against Carlos’s shoulder.

Had he fallen asleep? Probably not, judging by the steady, deliberate strokes of his thumb across Carlos’s inner thigh. Oscar’s hair tickled his nose, wafting that sweet scent again. Carlos hadn’t really clicked with the Uber driver, but suddenly he wished for some pointless chatter, just to defuse the tension in the car.

The drive felt twice as long as it had on the way here. And just when Carlos thought Oscar had dozed off, his hand moved again, dragging along the bulge in Carlos’s pants, drawing a surprised, breathy whimper from him that he really, really hoped the driver hadn’t heard over the music.

The next streetlight illuminated Oscar’s eyes again. He was looking up at Carlos from beneath a curl of hair, gauging his reaction. There was a glint on his lips where he’d licked them.

Carlos was going to die.

He’d had no idea the tension between himself and Oscar had been sexual all this time. Maybe it hadn’t been – maybe it had just turned upside down tonight because Oscar was being nice for once, and all dressed up, and… groping him in the backseat of the car.

No, not groping. Not exactly. His hand was just lightly brushing against him, irregular, almost by accident. The only reason Carlos had to assume intention was that Oscar’s face was tilted upward, presumably looking him right in the eyes.

Carlos closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest. He could feel Oscar’s hot breath against his collar, making him reach up to loosen his tie. He felt like a teenager, one glass of champagne too many, bubbles dancing in his periphery, probing hands, blurred lines. It was just a twenty-minute ride, but by the time they finally re-entered civilization, Carlos felt like he’d lived half a life – hard and hot and on the brink of snapping.

He wasn’t sure how much he tipped the driver in the end. He just shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out whatever cash he’d stuffed in there, leaving it in the center console without a word. Then he got out and walked around the car, collecting Oscar from the other side.

The Uber driver stuck his head out the window, suddenly looking a lot friendlier than before.

“Thanks, ‘ppreciate it!” he said, waving the wad of cash Carlos had left him. There was definitely a twenty in there. Oh boy.

But Carlos didn’t have much time to mourn his hard-earned money. Oscar was heavily leaning into him, eyes half-lidded – no, three-quarters lidded. Actually, they were slits, at most. He was smiling again, as if he’d never been happier in his life than right now, with Carlos’s arm around his waist, insistently maneuvering him toward the entrance to his building.

He lived on the ground floor and had never been as glad about it as today, because there was no elevator in this building, and carrying Oscar up a flight of stairs might have ended in disaster.

Not that this wouldn’t end in disaster.

“Okay,” Carlos said, drawing in shallow breaths in a futile attempt to calm himself down. “This is… this is me.”

Oscar’s eyes crinkled, amused, as he walked over the threshold, right into Carlos’s life. Carlos was mostly an orderly person, but there were hints of him not expecting any visitors strewn around. A blender cup left to soak in the sink from where he’d hastily thrown together a smoothie that morning. A few discarded tie options hanging from the back of the couch. A sports magazine, flipped open on the coffee table.

“It’s nice,” Oscar said, which was probably the most un-Oscar-like thing he could’ve said about Carlos’s apartment, reminding Carlos once again of just how far gone he must be.

Stalling for time, Carlos wandered into the kitchen, hoping Oscar wouldn’t just collapse to the floor without his support. “You want anything to drink?” he asked, opening a random cupboard. “Water? Coffee?”

Oscar’s brows arched, but he followed, leaning with his elbows against the kitchen island.

“Water’s fine,” he said, and Carlos reached for a tall glass, filled it from the faucet, and handed it over from the other side of the island, so they didn’t have to touch.

Oscar, ignoring the message, sidled along the island’s edge until he was right in Carlos’s face again. The light was low, but bright enough to highlight the flush sitting high on Oscar’s cheeks, right on the fleshy part under the eyes. It looked pretty. He looked so fucking pretty when he wasn’t being a prissy bastard, nagging Carlos for literally just existing. So pretty when he smiled.

“Thank you,” Oscar whispered, finally taking the glass from Carlos’s sweaty hands. He didn’t break eye contact as he took a long sip, swallowing audibly. The half-empty glass gave a soft clink when Oscar set it down on the kitchen counter, and the sound went straight through Carlos, bone-deep.

It was so fucking hard to be ethical when Oscar looked the prettiest he’d ever looked, wore the tightest pants he’d ever worn, and stared right into his eyes while licking his lips.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Oscar continued, when Carlos could do nothing but stare back, unblinking.

“Yeah, uh,” Carlos coughed, only just realizing how dry his throat had gotten. “It’s no problem, rea–”

Oscar grabbed his tie and pulled him in, a lot more coordinated than Carlos would’ve given him credit for. There was no miss, no awkward clack of teeth – just Oscar’s soft, freshly-wet lips, and then, already, his tongue, slipping into Carlos’s open, desperate mouth.

Carlos immediately lost the fight against his own morals.

Oscar’s body was fusing itself to his again. Mouth-to-mouth, chest-to-chest, bulge-to-bulge. They seemed to be about the same height, which, for some reason, was the hottest thing to Carlos right now. He’d never thought a lack of height difference could be a kink, but he was discovering a lot of new things about himself tonight.

His hands were busying themselves with Oscar’s shirt, fiddling with the buttons, which refused to open. They were just as stubborn as their wearer, so Carlos gave up and went straight for the belt instead. Oscar groaned into his mouth when Carlos peeled his pants down, past his ass, and the weight of the belt carried them further, until they pooled around Oscar’s ankles. It was probably a terrible idea to leave a drunk man with fabric shackles like that, but Carlos was too distracted by the firm grip of Oscar’s ass in his hands, and Oscar somehow managed to step out of his shoes and pant legs just fine. Maybe the alcohol was wearing off.

Spurred on by that idea, Carlos gripped Oscar’s ass harder, pulling him close, and up, until Oscar got the message and wrapped his legs around Carlos’s waist.

‘See? I can carry you. Easy!’ Carlos would’ve liked to say, as he transported Oscar around the kitchen island and across the living room blindly, until Oscar’s back hit the bedroom door. His mouth was still too busy to talk, so he hoped the quality of his neck-sucking conveyed the proper amount of smugness as he pushed down the door handle and stumbled into the room with Oscar in his arms.

The unloading wasn’t very elegant, unfortunately. He banged his shins on the bedframe and dropped Oscar into the pillows like a sack of bricks. 

Oscar landed with a muffled “Ooph!” but didn’t complain. He just looked up at Carlos, the flush even more widespread than before. It went all the way down into his loosened collar, tie hanging on by a thread, the first three buttons undone to reveal surprisingly shaped pecs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as his narrow eyes raked across Carlos’s body. Carlos wasn’t sure what he was seeing that was so impressive – he wasn’t the one lying on the bed with naked, spread legs, light grey boxers tented and damp at the tip, ready to be devoured. Not even in his wildest dreams could Carlos have conjured up such a sinful image of Oscar Jack Piastri, bane of his existence.

But there Oscar was, one hand reaching down to squeeze his dick, still staring up at Carlos, voice coming out rough and breathless as he said, “Jesus! Why do you have to be so fucking hot?”

Suddenly, there was a record-scratch sound in Carlos’s brain.

Because it wasn’t just the picture in front of him – it was the words, too.

Oscar Piastri, in his right mind, would never say those words out loud to Carlos Sainz’s face.

One time, when it was just the two of them in the break room, Oscar had caught Carlos checking himself out in the reflection of the coffee machine and rolled his eyes so hard Carlos had genuinely worried about the strings holding them in place.

“Regret to inform you, you’re not as hot as you think you are,” Oscar had told him.

That was what the real, actual Oscar Piastri thought of Carlos. He couldn’t trust anything this mimosa-brained, dummy-drunk temptation was telling him. It was just the alcohol talking. And if Carlos ended up taking advantage, he wouldn’t only break his own morals – there’d probably be a murder in this house the moment the real Oscar returned to his body in the morning.

So, as hard as it was, Carlos took a step back – away from the heavily breathing, clearly aroused man sitting on his bed with spread legs – mumbled a quick, “Good night, Oscar”, and stumbled off toward the bathroom as fast as his legs could carry him.

It took about five minutes for Oscar to process what had just happened and show up at the closed bathroom door, banging his fists against it and yelling what the fuck was wrong with Carlos – and another five minutes until he gave up and shuffled back toward the bed, muttering a few choice words under his breath.

Carlos stayed in the bathroom for the rest of the night, not trusting himself to face Oscar again. He took a long, cold shower and built himself a nest out of a few towels.

It was a terrible night. He barely slept at all. Different scenes from the evening played on the inside of his eyelids like a movie screen every time he closed his eyes. At one point, he even had to take a second cold shower. He could still feel Oscar’s ghostly hand brushing over his thigh, again and again, grazing his bulge through the suit trousers.

He woke up when the sun shone through the small bathroom window, way too early, and half-hard.

There was no sound coming from outside, though, so he dared to slip out of the bathroom.

The door to his bedroom was closed, and Carlos gave it a wide berth, heading to the kitchen instead to make himself a coffee.

Two hours later, there were still no sounds coming from the bedroom. Carlos decided it was time to face his fate.

He grabbed the glass Oscar had abandoned on the kitchen island the night before and filled it with fresh water. Then, very carefully, he went to knock on his own bedroom door.

No reaction.

He knocked again, but nothing changed.

Had… had Oscar left after Carlos had locked himself in the bathroom? Unlikely – he didn’t have his keys, or his phone, and Carlos had found his pants abandoned on the kitchen floor this morning.

Oh God. What if he’d fallen asleep on his back and choked on his own vomit, like some kind of drug victim?

Carlos opened the door and found the room mostly dark. The curtains were drawn, but they didn’t manage to keep the sunlight out completely.

The bed was a mess, but the body sprawled half-over, half-under the pile of blankets and pillows Carlos kept in his bed was clearly still breathing. Carlos was greeted by a perfectly shaped ass, clad only in underwear, sticking out of the sheets, one bare leg tossed carelessly over the blankets. Oscar’s hair was sticking up in all directions, defying gravity.

Slowly, slowly, Carlos walked into the room. He just wanted to set the glass of water on the bedside table and sneak back out, but he must have made some kind of noise, because just as he reached the bed, Oscar’s eyes snapped open, staring up at him.

There was a moment of silence as Carlos didn’t dare move a muscle, hoping against hope that Oscar would simply close his eyes again and go back to sleep. Instead, he sat up in bed.

He didn’t look especially disoriented for someone who had just gotten blackout drunk the night before, but then, Oscar never really looked fazed by anything.

“What are you doing?” Oscar asked, voice deep with sleep.

Carlos hesitantly lifted the glass of water in his hand. “Bringing you a glass of water?”

“Hm. That’s considerate,” Oscar said, without even a hint of a smile. “I really need that right now.”

Good. Good! Carlos handed him the glass with slightly trembling fingers.

A second later, the entire contents of the water glass splashed into his face. Carlos didn’t make a sound. He just let it happen. He kind of deserved it.

“Thought you really needed that,” he mumbled, once the majority of the water had dripped off his chin.

“Yep. That’s exactly what I needed it for,” Oscar said.

Carlos nodded, understanding. He sat down on the edge of the bed, drying his face with the hem of his T-shirt.

So. Oscar was clearly furious with him, and he had every right to be. Unfortunately, Oscar was also sitting there in his underwear and rumpled dress shirt, tangled in Carlos’s sheets, with the most adorable bedhead the world had ever seen, looking soft and warm, like a murderous kitten.

“Look, I’m very sorry–” Carlos began, but Oscar didn’t seem interested in hearing him out.

“As you should be!” he snapped. “Jesus Christ, Carlos! You were flirting with me all night! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me? I’ve been practically throwing myself at you and you were giving every sign, including taking me home! Only to run away the second I’m half-naked on your bed? At least have the decency to explain yourself! I’m a grown man – if you’re not actually into me, just say it!”

What? In what world would Carlos not be into him? He was getting hard just sitting here, being told off.

“That’s not what–” he started, stammering. “I mean, I just suddenly realized you were blackout drunk, and–”

“Blackout drunk?” Oscar snapped. “I wish!”

“Okay, so maybe you remember some of it, but you were clearly drunk, Oscar! I couldn’t… I couldn’t risk it, okay?”

Oscar still looked like he was actively considering tearing Carlos’s head off and using it as a flower vase.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he said icily. “I had, like, two mimosas. I’ve seen you drink twice that much right after arriving, mate.”

“Uh–” Carlos faltered like he’d just been punched in the stomach.

“I was tipsy, at best!”

“But… but you were smiling!”

“It’s called ‘having a good time,’ Carlos!” Oscar snapped. “Not something I usually experience around you, granted, but not exactly unheard of!”

“And you were letting those old American guys grope you in front of everyone!”

Oscar’s mouth dropped open in protest. “You mean Zak?” he groaned. “Mate, that’s my old boss. He got me this job! And he wasn’t groping me – his hand was on my mid-back, at best. You were the only one groping me in front of everyone, Jesus Christ! I only let you because I thought it was hot when you suddenly got all territorial!”

“But… but…” Carlos was running out of arguments. “You couldn’t even move without me supporting you!”

“What?” Oscar rubbed at his eyes like a headache was starting to form – one that had nothing to do with last night’s drinks. “I was supporting you just as much! Mate, I just thought we were both a little tipsy off the champagne, in the mood for a stupid mistake that wouldn’t even matter in the long run, because we already don’t get along.”

“Right,” Carlos said, gears finally turning.

“Right,” Oscar echoed.

“So,” Carlos said carefully, scooting just a little closer along the edge of the bed, “does that mean… you’re not mad at me for taking advantage of you, but rather mad at me for not taking advantage of you?”

“Hardly taking advantage, is it?” Oscar said, narrowing his eyes.

“Right,” Carlos said again, and shut up, waiting.

Oscar eyed him warily, and then, after a beat of silence, leaned back, his dress shirt falling open just enough to reveal the faintest glimpse of a nipple.

“Right,” Oscar repeated, a glint in his eye.

Carlos tackled him back into the sheets.

[penkura]

where you belong [2/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Sorry this has taken so long! I wanted to really progress these two and get some moments between them, so the chapter ended up bigger than planned! Next one is a good one I think. ;) Forgot to mention last time but Reader is going to be described as shorter than Law, and that height difference can be your own interpretation (I'm 5ft tall, these men would tower over me).

I am also FLOORED at how well received the first chapter was and that we've got a taglist for this series, my gosh. You guys are so sweet and wonderful!! If I missed you on the taglist PLEASE let me know and I will add you to the future chapters! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the beginning of Law and Reader falling for each other!

Taglist:

@pinksaiyans | @sukunas-play-thing | @spiderlily-w1tch-blog | @mineymak | @valen-yamyam16 | @shimmerxc | @luffy0s | @fluffybunnyu | @laws-wife-things | @crmnic

[Ch. 1]

You spend the next week learning more about the Polar Tang and the Heart Pirates themselves, Law taking most of your time to help you get used to things. He's made sure you understand the basic rules of the ship, for his crew, including the boiler suits, and what do in case of certain emergencies. You’re going to be working on your poisons in his office, in case anything happens, he can help you fix it. You’re honestly grateful for the time everyone has taken to help you get your bearings straight and work out where things are. You’ll be sharing a room with Ikkaku, who is so glad to have another girl aboard for as long as you are. She’s already started sharing some gossip with you, pointing out those involved so you knew who was who on top of it all.

Penguin has been extremely kind and helpful, telling you that you’re welcome to join him for night watches once you tell him you spend a lot of time writing during your shifts on the Sunny.

Shachi and Uni both showed you around some of the major maintenance areas, both promising they’d help you learn the most basic things so you can be of help if needed.

You’re about to join Bepo for a quick navigation lesson before their captain calls you, wanting to discuss somethings with you before you got too far away.

Law, although he agreed to letting you stay with him and his crew, still isn’t entirely sure what to do with you. There’s still that strange feeling in his chest when you smile at him, as you thank him for all his help and allowing you to stay, once he brings you to his office again a few days later, and he waves you off.

“You don’t have to thank me constantly.”

“I know,” you smile again and he feels that feeling that’s been hanging around, but Law tries to ignore it, “I’m just…really grateful. I know my being here may be a burden—”

“Not a burden, you’re welcome here. Everyone’s glad you’re staying around for now.”

Hearing that makes you brighten up, as Law starts to question you more about what you do for the Straw Hats, and what you can bring to his crew in the meantime. You list off everything you’ve come to learn about being at sea from being a Straw Hat, Law making mental notes on other things to ask about later.

“Any other special talents we should know about?”

You start to think, pressing a finger to your chin while you do so. Another action Law has to tell himself isn’t cute, before you grin and lean in close to him, quietly speaking.

“I can see the dead.”

Complete silence as Law raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to grin, halfway expecting him to ask for proof. Ask you to tell him about a spirit that might be hanging around the Polar Tang, or around one his crewmembers, but he doesn’t ask anything, eventually returning to a straight face.

“No you can’t.”

“…okay fine, I can’t. It’d be cool though!”

He rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh in return. Law goes to let you out of his office which you oblige by, knowing he’s done talking with you now that you’ve made your joke. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder first, you giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll help you make antidotes for your poisons. But you won’t use my crew as test subjects.”

“Ha! That’s fine, I don’t test on people anyway, just in case. Just give me some fish and I can use those.”

Giving him another grin, you walk ahead saying Bepo was going to show you something next, but Law had rudely interrupted by wanting to know what you could bring to his crew for the next two years. You’ll promise later to make extra batches of antidote for him to keep in his medicine stockpile, while Law watches you hurry down the hall and sighs.

“That’s the wrong way.”

He’s quick to follow you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back the right way, deciding he’ll join you and Bepo for whatever it was you two were discussing next. He wants to ensure you’re being given correct information and know what to do in an emergency, especially so if you need medical attention.

Atta boy, Law.

If you really could see the dead, you’d have noticed the tall, blond man with makeup and a large, black feathered coat pushing Law towards you.

+!+

“We’re approaching a winter island, everyone needs to be ready to disembark for a bit and—”

“A winter island?!”

Your outburst causes Law to stop speaking with a nod at you, and you’re gone to the crew bunks in an instant, followed by Bepo who is just as excited. Law gives a look to Ikkaku and Uni, who you’d been talking to when he came in, and both simply shrug at him. They all briefly noticed a sparkle in your eyes as you ran off, likely to change clothes and get ready to disembark, but none of them knew your intent or real interest in the snow.

It's only when Law catches you by the exit door with Bepo, excitedly talking with the Polar bear mink about what you could do in the snow, all dressed up in your coat, thick pants, boots and gloves. You and Bepo trade ideas back and forth about what to build out of the snow, or if you can get a snowball fight started.

Law hasn’t seen someone so excited for snow in a long time, he thinks not since the last winter with Lami.

Penguin joins you and Bepo by the door next, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a smile.

“What’re you so excited about some snow for?”

“It practically never snows in my home town! I think it snowed maybe twice while Luffy and I lived there? Chopper is from a winter island, so when we were there, it was so exciting!”

“Haha, I’m from the North Blue, so snow is pretty normal up there. Well…the area me and Shachi are from anyway.”

“Ah,” you give a little sigh but smile yourself, “I’m so jealous. What about Trafalgar?”

“That’s…well, kind of different, but we did meet him where we used to live,” looking over his shoulder, Penguin sees Law but leans into whisper, “Probably better if you ask him another time. It’s…a lot…”

Before you have a chance to question it, Law comes up behind Penguin and tells him to go ahead with opening the door, the Polar Tang should be stable enough for you all to leave now. You put that question into the back of your mind for later, instead running out with Bepo as soon as the door opens. The excitement both of you have is almost contagious, as the rest of the Heart Pirates slowly join you outside. While some of them are tasked with scoping out the island, the rest end up with you and Bepo building snowmen for a while, though you and the mink end up making a snow polar bear the best you can even if it looks a little goofy in the end. Some pieces are a little larger than others but you still think it’s cute, even as your companion bows his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I made some things a little too big.”

“No, that’s okay, Bepo! It gives it charm, I think he’s cute!”

You reassure Bepo a few times with a smile, before the two of you go to work with others on more snow sculptures. It goes well until you get hit in the face with a snowball, thrown by Hakugan at Shachi who dodged just in time. While it makes you sneeze a bit as you brush the snow off your face, with Bepo and Ikkaku yelling at Hakugan while he shouts apologies and Shachi nearly cackles, it doesn’t upset you at all really. Yeah it kind of hurt to have a snowball hit you in the face, but hey, you mentioned a snowball fight earlier, right?

Crouching down to gather up some snow, you put on a wicked grin and fling the ball at Hakugan yourself, catching him in the back as he turns away while you laugh.

“How about a warning next time?!”

“Yeah, snowball fight!!”

Most everyone joins in, gathering up all the snowballs they could or just throwing loose snow at each other, Law watches from the side, a slight smile on his face. He’s glad everyone can take a bit to relax and enjoy themselves, he’s not sure he’s seen his crew this excited about snow in a long time, even Shachi who grew up in the North Blue. Some of you group up to get an advantage over others, Law turns to ignoring the snowball fight as Penguin and Uni come back with what they found on the island.

All is well until Law is hit in the back of the head with a snowball, keeping himself upright but turning quickly to search through everyone and find who did it as you all quiet down seeing his glare. Not a single person looks him in the eye, but they all point to you, while you cover your mouth with your hand and try to stifle your laughter.

“S-Sorry, Trafalgar,” a giggle escapes you as you glance over to him, “I… I was… hehe… aiming for Penguin… honest!”

“Oh yeah…?” Law’s voice is low, he crouches down to scoop up some snow, locking eyes with you as yours widen and you turn to run, but realize it’s futile when Law uses his Shambles to catch up and grab you, shoving the snow he’d gathered into your coat and making you screech before everyone returns to the snowball fight.

“That’s cruel!!”

“Everyone get Captain, he’s cheating!’

While the rest of the Heart Pirates aim for Law, you and their captain are honed in on each other, trading blows from snowballs for the longest time, your personal goal to knock his hat off as payback for shoving snow down your back. Luckily you’re not the one to hit him hard enough to knock the spotted hat off, but you’re close enough to grab before he does, sticking it on your own head and playing keep away once Law realizes where it’s at.

“Looks good on me, huh, Trafalgar?! I might keep it!”

“The hell you will, that’s mine!”

Once Law catches you, he doesn’t let go until he’s snatched his hat back off your head and returned it to its rightful place, keeping a grip on your arm as he notices the sky starting to get darker. The rest of the crew has settled down, stopping at first to watch you and Law until a new snowfall began.

You forget for a few minutes that Law has a hold of your arm, it’s not uncomfortable, but you feel your heart pick up a bit from it.

“It’s pretty….the snowfall.”

He nods, finally noticing he still has a hold of you and letting go, disappointment flooding you as Law calls for everyone to return to the ship. Tomorrow will be a day in town to restock, you’ll all take off again afterwards.

You volunteer at dinner to make everyone the lavender milk tea that Makino once taught you, most of the crew enjoying it, but you’re especially surprised by Law liking it, even telling you so.

It's the small smile he gives when you thank him that makes you realize you just might be starting to get a crush on him.

+!+

Law knows something is up when you don’t join the rest of the Heart Pirates for a meeting before being let off the ship. He still does his job as captain, giving out duties to everyone so they knew what to do and who would be stocking supplies, who would be checking for wanted posters, and anything he felt needed to be done this time. He’d planned for you to join him on a once around the island to look for anything of interest, but when you don’t show up, he knows something must be wrong.

“Ikkaku-ya,” Law stops your roommate before she gets too far, Ikkaku giving him her full attention, “Where’s [Y/N]-ya?”

“Oh, um…” Ikkaku shuffles from one foot to the next, not fully looking at her captain and that’s what worries him more, until she speaks again, “She isn’t feeling well…she’s not sick so she doesn’t need a check-up but, it might be best to leave her alone today, probably tomorrow too…”

That leads to Law believing your cycle had started, and he chooses not to question it further, lest he or Ikkaku feel embarrassed about the discussion. He decides to leave you be, you’ll probably join them tomorrow for island exploring, most likely with Penguin if he asks you especially. When you do show up for dinner that evening, you’re quieter than usual and Law notices how Penguin and Ikkaku are the ones to talk with you. He can’t hear anything they say, but seeing you at least smile and respond to them is enough for him to think that everything is fine, you’re just not feeling 100% and that makes sense. He’s heard you and Ikkaku complain about cramps and the like the last few months, he already knows the first day is hard for you, so he lets it go. At least you’re out and talking to everyone.

But he knows something is up the next time it happens, not even two weeks later, and it can’t be blamed on your period this time. You don’t show up to a crew meeting, you still aren’t one of his crewmates but you’ve been joining for anything interesting or important, and Law doesn’t let it show that he's a little more worried, so he stops Penguin this time and asks him the same thing, where are you and why didn’t you show up?

Penguin doesn’t fully look at Law, scratching the back of his head as he tries to find the words.

“She…just isn’t up for it today, Cap. Maybe we should let her have the day off…”

Although Law tells Penguin that’s fine, he does go off to find you, the door to your and Ikkaku’s room barely open, but he knocks to make sure you’re not indecent or anything. There’s no answer so he opens the door, not seeing you anywhere, the new assumption being that you’re in the bathroom. He turns his attention there, again knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]-ya, Penguin-ya said you weren’t felling well, are you all right?”

No response, Law furrows his brow and knocks again, saying your name a little louder this time. He swears he hears a small whimper and a sob, and that’s what makes him finally open the bathroom door, simply saying he’s coming in before doing so, but he nearly freezes when he sees you.

Nearly curled up into a ball in the corner, head buried in your arms wrapped around your knees with numerous used tissues and he just knows that if you looked up at him, he’d feel that strange feeling in his chest again, or one of heartbreak, he isn’t entirely sure which one.

Law is not trying to scare you, but when he touches your hand and says your name a third time, it makes you jump and look up at him with wide, tear filled eyes, you feel beyond embarrassed that he’s caught you like this, but it quickly turns to more tears and a bit of anger.

“Are you—”

“Get out! Go away!!” Law barely dodges the box of tissues when you throw it at him, he’s not able to dodge the mascara you toss at his head as you keep yelling at him to leave. He doesn’t really move to leave until you stand up much too quickly and start pushing him out, he’s just surprised at your reaction to him finding you crying. “Leave me alone!!”

Once he’s out the door you almost slam it shut in his face and lock it, Law doesn’t know what to make of this really.

He can handle physical ailments, mental is a little harder for him but he’s working on it for his crew, yet emotional problems are not in his wheel house at all. He doesn’t really know why you’re locked in the bathroom, hiding in a corner crying, but that look on your face gave him an idea. He recognizes it from his own past, after his family and Flevance, then again after Corazon.

It was pure grief that was written on your face, definitely from your still fresh loss of Ace, and Law isn’t sure how to help you.

He doesn’t know if he should help you, you just might turn all your grief inward and ignore any hands held out for help, even from your new friends let alone him.

“Captain? Why are you…oh.”

Ikkaku finds Law still in your room several minutes later, staring at your bathroom door, until he hears her and looks at her, an expression she can’t read on his face.

“How long?”

“A few weeks now,” she sits on the edge of her bed, not looking at Law now, “It happens randomly it seems like, or something reminds her of Ace and sets her off. His birthday is soon, so that might be it right now. Penguin and I promised we wouldn’t let anyone know, so she could grieve alone.”

“Why was it being kept a secret?”

She shrugs a bit, Law isn’t sure he’s going to get many more answers today, but then Ikkaku speaks up again.

“She doesn’t want to burden anyone with her feelings, I guess. She should be fine by dinner, Captain, she just… needs some time.”

While she is correct, and you show up again at dinner looking normal but still with a sadness on your face that he can see, Law wonders if there’s something he can do to help you. Your need to grieve and have that time alone isn’t a bad thing, he won’t deny you that when you need it, but he wants to do something for you, he still doesn’t know you well enough to know that exactly you need, but anything is better than letting you be alone.

He knows all too well how that feels.

When it happens a third time, several weeks later, you don’t show up once again, Law doesn’t even need to look at Penguin or Ikkaku, they won’t meet his eyes anyway. After he lets everyone else go, his next mission is to find you, even though he knows exactly where you are. Law isn’t sure if his plan is going to work, but he wants you to stop hiding away from everyone when you break down. It’s not because he’s angry about it, he just doesn’t want you to continue suffering alone. It’s not good for anyone to do that.

He doesn’t even knock when he gets to your room, but does so when he sees your bathroom door is closed like the last time.

“[Y/N]-ya, I’m coming in.”

“No,” you force back a sob, making sure the door is locked, “Go away!”

“I won’t.”

You haven’t experienced all the abilities Law has at his disposal, but you aren’t that surprised when you see a blue hue, and he’s in the bathroom with you not even a moment later. He’s not phased by you attempting to throw things at him again, even while you yell at him to leave you alone, you don’t need help, you don’t need anyone right now.

You’ve handled things like this by yourself your whole life, why would need help now?

“I don’t need help!”

“I’m not trying to help.”

“Then lea—”

Law doesn’t give you much more room to talk, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug, pressing your face into his chest which causes your eyes to widen a bit and tears to flow even more.

“I’m not trying to help,” Law holds you tightly, feeling a just a bit of relief as you slowly wrap your arms around him in return while you return to crying, “but you don’t have to be alone, all right?”

“T-Trafalgar…I…I just—”

“I know, I get it. But,” he knows it’s probably going to sound hypocritical based on his own issues, but Law still feels the need to say it again, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

Law isn’t entirely sure why he’s chosen to let you cry into him, let you grip onto his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth while you continue to cry and say how it isn’t fair that Ace died, that you lost another brother (he’s going to have to ask about that later, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned it). Maybe it’s because he didn’t have anyone back then, when he lost his own loved ones. It might be that, because he saw a reflection of himself in you the first time he found you hiding away and struggling to handle your grief. While you drag the two of you to the floor, Law simply adjusts to as comfortable a position he can, he’s at least sure you’ll both be there a while. You don’t show any signs of calming any time soon.

Law doesn’t know why he came after you, but once your cries fade to nothing, not even whimpers, he’s relieved to hear you speaking to him without being upset or between sobs of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry…for crying all over your shirt again…”

“Don’t be. It’ll wash.”

Law strokes your hair a bit while you finally smile, nodding, before he helps you up off the floor. While you wash your face, Law directs you to not worry about helping anyone out with chores or sharing shifts today, he’s already split everything up among his crew, you’re under strict orders from the doctor to rest and recover from your breakdown. He does offer to bring you something to eat and drink, which you take him up on, stopping him before he fully leaves your room.

“Thank you…Law, I appreciate this…”

He’s completely aware that’s the first time you’ve used his first name, and he notices a different feeling in his chest. It’s not the same, almost heart squeeze he’s felt before, but something more comforting. Warm almost, and he’s starting to get it more.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]-ya.”

Ah, that’s what it is…

Law realizes he’s starting to have feelings for you, though he decides to push them down for now.

He’s not going to use your weakened emotional state to push himself further into your life, not when he doesn’t even know if he’s okay with these feelings or not. For now, he’s going to do what he said and bring you some lunch, he’ll deal with these feelings later.

It is nice to hear you call him by his given name though.

+!+

“You’re as reckless as your brother.”

You giggle a bit while Law continues to wrap bandages around your arm, shooting you a small glare while you laugh. He’s not amused, mostly because it was him you’d tried to protect and ended up getting hurt over. You shoved him out of the way of an enemy attack, receiving a deep slice across your own arm instead. Once he realized what happened, Law was furious with you, even though he knows you aren’t part of his crew, it didn’t change the fact he was trying to protect you for Luffy while your crew was apart. You were lucky, he’d told you after he forced you to the infirmary, that your attacker’s weapon didn’t have any poison on it. You’d probably be dead before he even got you there if it had been.

You just grinned and said it was the opposite, your attacker was lucky your knife didn’t have poison on it, or he’d be in worse shape than he already was from your perfect aim hitting him between the shoulders. It doesn’t cause Law any relief to hear that, he still glares and it makes you start to shrink away, averting your gaze elsewhere.

You two still don’t know each other very well, it’s only been a few months since Luffy tossed you to him as the Heart Pirates left Amazon Lily. Still, you’ve found Law is fiercely protective of his crew, his family, just as you are with the Straw Hats, and while you’re with them, you count as one of his crewmembers.

The feelings you’ve started to develop for him don’t help much, Ikkaku being the only one who knows since you’ve told her how distraught you feel over it.

How could you start falling for a rival pirate captain? It’s only a crush but it makes you feel like you’re betraying your crew sometimes.

“Law, I’m fi—”

“And what if you weren’t?” He’s nearly grinding his teeth and ties off your bandage a little tighter than he intended, making you take a sharp breath. “What would you want me to tell your brother?”

You shrug, starting to play with the end of the bandages to distract yourself from him. “Could just tell him I protected you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you jump when Law slams down the scissors on the metal plate, keeping his back to you so you don’t see how upset he really is, “My crew knows I don’t need it. They know to run if a battle might cost them their lives. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do this for my crewmates, too. I’ve even pushed Zoro and Sanji out of the way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but—”

“Sorry wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.”

You both become silent, you taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before nodding and biting your lip.

“You’re right…that’s why Ace isn’t back.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Thanks for bandaging me up, Trafalgar,” Law turns around just as you jump off the table, going to leave, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Law watches you leave, letting out a frustrated sigh once you’re gone. He really hadn’t meant to upset you, it just came out, but it was also the truth. What good was ‘sorry’ if you had died and he had to tell Luffy that he'd lost another sibling, this time a blood related one? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, not when you and Luffy were still getting over Ace’s death.

He gets it, he really does, that pain doesn’t go away quickly, no matter how many false smiles you give to him or the others, or how often you laugh with them. No matter how many times he finds you crying the bathroom over you grief. It hasn’t been that long, he doesn’t expect you to be whatever is normal for you so soon. He probably shouldn’t be berating you, you’re not part of his crew so he doesn’t have the right, Law isn’t your captain.

But, you’re under his care for two years, you’re a temporary member of his crew, so you should listen to him. You’re proving to be as stubborn as Luffy is, but also just as protective as Law is.

And your progress with him, ugh. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to call him by his first name, and now you’re back to calling him Trafalgar instead. Seven months of progress down the drain all because he was concerned, worried about you being reckless.

…why am I so worried though?

He could easily chalk it up to the fact you’re Luffy’s sister and he’s trying to protect you until you’re back with your crew, or he could even say its because of the feelings he’s developed for you, but Law doesn’t want to get into that right now.

Neither of you speak until dinner, when you run into each other right outside the kitchen and start a back and forth about who should go in first.

“You’re the captain, sir.”

“Ladies first, miss.”

You don’t like being formal, or hearing him call you ‘miss’, but you don’t want to fight about it. Not when his crew can hear and might be concerned about it.

“Crew shouldn’t eat without their captain there.”

“We don’t have that rule around here.”

Eventually you relent and go first, getting your food and taking the first free seat by Ikkaku, Law sitting beside you a moment later. You don’t talk to each other the whole time, you focus on your conversation with Ikkaku while Law responds to anyone speaking to him. You barely even notice when Law takes the roll he really didn’t want to have on his plate, and moves it to yours, almost like a peace offering that you two are okay, he’s not mad at you for trying to protect him anymore. You do give him a smile when you notice, which he returns with a nod before leaving for his room.

You sigh a bit, looking back to your plate and keeping your smile to yourself.

Things will be okay.

+!+

Over the last nearly ten months, Law has learned a few of your quirks. When you work on your poisons, you mark things three times over to ensure you have the correct amounts listed, you almost always strike up conversation with him about anything that comes to mind, even if Law doesn’t answer you.

Sometimes he’s caught you biting your pencil or pen while making notes, it’s one of your cuter quirks.

On nights you can’t sleep, like tonight, he can easily find you in the kitchen, brewing up some tea to help you fall asleep, and that’s where Law decides he has to talk to you. You’ve both moved past your argument from a few months ago, it’s like it never happened now, but he feels the need to speak with you about something important.

No, not his feelings, he’s going to ignore those as long as possible. He recognized them after you’d had an emotional breakdown, he’s not going to admit that especially, he doesn’t want you to think he has a kink for crying or something, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Law,” you look over your shoulder for a second with a smile, turning back to your tea, “Couldn’t sleep, though some tea might help.”

“Your usual then?”

Nodding, as you finish off your tea making, Law sits at the table and waits for you to join him, knowing you’ve made him a cup of lavender milk tea too. You’d started doing that and either taking it to his office before you head to bed or having him join you in the kitchen where you have small conversations before you both turn in for the night.

You’ve gotten quite comfortable with Law, your own feelings for him aside. He’s been helpful with your poison and antidote creations, ensuring your ratios are correct and helping you when they aren’t. You’ve started discussing books you’ve both read, you were shocked to find he enjoyed the Sora Warrior of the Sea comics. His being such a nerd over them never struck you as odd thankfully, Law even letting you borrow a few of his copies so you can give it a try yourself.

He makes you feel safe and comfortable, you really enjoy being with Law.

Law thanks you when you hand over the mug of tea, taking your seat across from him to enjoy your own, settling into a welcomed silence. With how rowdy his crew can be at times, you get why Law hides himself away in his office most of the time, and you’re grateful that he lets you share the space when needed.

“I know you said I didn’t have to,” Law looks over to you as you speak, an eyebrow raised, “but thank you again, for letting me stay. I really appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

“Like I’ve said, its no problem. Everyone’s glad you’re here.”

I’m more than glad you’re here.

There’s a soft smile on your face that Law enjoys seeing, and he honestly hopes you won’t lose it after he talks to you.

“I wanted…to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” setting your mug down on the table, you rest your elbows there with your chin in your hands, “I’m all ears, Law.”

He's almost fighting himself on if he should or shouldn’t, maybe another time. It’s late after all, you probably want to go to bed now that you’ve had your tea. It’s making him sleepy too, but the anxiety he feels is almost nullifying the tea’s effects.

Taking a deep breath, Law finally speaks up again, not meeting your eye.

“I want to tell you about my past,” that makes you perk up, remembering what Penguin had said to you months ago, “But I don’t think I can tonight. It’s…”

“A lot…?”

He nods, which you return, realizing this must be more than what Penguin could’ve meant, it has to be hard for Law to dredge up whatever memories he has of his childhood and teenage years, of everything that led him to where he is now.

Everything that’s leading him down the path he’s chosen.

“So,” when he finally looks up at you, you’re not surprised at how tired Law looks, it has to be taking a lot for him to do this, “I want to set a time in a few days, where you and I can sit, and I can tell you everything. “

You need to know before I could ever tell you my feelings anyway.

“Law,” Nodding, you quietly reach out your hand to his, not wanting to scare him off, “Just tell me whenever, and I’ll make myself available to listen, okay?”

After he agrees, Law offers to walk you back to your shared room with Ikkaku, which you take him up on even though you know the way. The Polar Tang is only so big, but it’s nice to have him by your side. Once you reach your door, Law turns to leave and you stop him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and leaning up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening just a hair.

“Thanks for walking me…and trusting me, Law. See you in the morning.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything in response before you enter your room and close the door, sighing heavily as you bring yourself to the floor, Ikkaku watching you from her bed.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for the captain, huh?”

“…it’s that obvious?”

“As obvious as the fact he’s the same for you, girlfriend.”

While you don’t believe Ikkaku is correct in that statement, Law isn’t able to bring himself to move for several minutes, frozen in shock that you decided to kiss his cheek and just run off to bed.

It looks like you’ve got more to talk about than just his past now.

[losers-clvb]

i love you, i'm sorry pt. 2 // sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

summary: a teenaged sam left you broken. now he's back and you're not sure what to do.

content: angst, swearing, reader is bobby's daughter, big brother dean is back again, reader is tempted to shoot sam, some slight miscommunication, fluff, smut, fingering, shower sex, unprotected piv penetration, some dirty talk from sam to reader, bobby being a classic dad

word count: 6.9k

note: this is the second part, so if you haven't read the first, i would recommend doing so!

masterlist part one

----

A heavy silence made the shopping trip and ride back home hard. Sam didn’t try to talk to you again. He couldn’t handle hearing how much more you hated him. Now, the three men and you sat at the table, much like you had that morning. You picked at your plate, not feeling hungry after the intense emotions of the day. Dean looked between you and Sam suspiciously. He could tell something had happened. He wanted to ask, but knew that Bobby knew nothing of the situation.

Dinner was quiet. It was nothing like the meals of the past that had been filled with laughter and hidden glances. Bobby attempted to start a conversation when asking what you had planned for the next day. This had been met with some bullshit response about cleaning the kitchen and it was back to the quiet again. Sam was the first to excuse himself. He claimed he was tired. You rolled your eyes. If anyone was tired, it should be you. It had been exhausting to watch out of the corner of your eye for someone who seemed to be trying to chase you down.

Next was Bobby with the same reasoning as Sam. You let this one slide past without annoyance. He was your dad. That left you and Dean. You could sense the questions bubbling in him. You didn’t want to answer them. Not when you could feel some leftover sadness trying to unbury itself inside you. You stood and took care of what remained of dinner. Dean followed you.

“What happened?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking what he was asking about. You placed a bowl into the refrigerator.

“He wanted a normal life. Apparently I didn’t fit into his plans.” You were completely guessing on the last part. You assumed that was why you had been abandoned, but you had no confirmation of this.

“He said that?” Dean didn’t believe that for one second. He had known about Sam’s feelings for you before Sam did. Once his younger brother had discovered the wanting for you, it was all he would hear about. “Did you see what she wore today?” or “She’s so beautiful” or even the occasional “I think I’m in love with her”. There wasn't a universe in which Sam would ever stop loving you.

“Basically.” You scraped a plate over the trash. Dean watched as you filled a sink with warm, soapy water before taking a spot beside you to help with the cleaning. You both worked in silence, you washing the dishes and Dean rinsing them. You sighed and leaned into him while they air dried on a towel next to the sink. He stood strong as you did so, watching the water drain. He knew you were tired, knew you had been tired since the moment you woke up. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Dean spoke with his voice just barely above a whisper. You let him guide you up the stairs and tuck you in. The last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep was the click of your door closing.

----

Dean closed the door to your room and turned around, ready to go to his own bedroom. When he turned around, however, he was met with his younger brother. Sam looked at him with those puppy dog eyes he pulled out whenever he wanted something. Dean raised an eyebrow before moving past him, not entirely sure if he wanted to have a conversation with Sam after hearing what you told him.

“What?” Dean asked when he felt Sam follow him. He entered his room and began to ready himself for the night, a short routine.

“What did she tell you?” Sam asked while standing in the doorway. He could tell something was off. You had said something, maybe the truth, maybe not, it didn’t matter. The only thing he needed to know is if you truly did hate him.

“Enough.” Dean answered, irritation bubbling in him. Growing up with you he had always hated when you were hurting. Whether it be school bullies, disappointment from spilled milk, a skinned knee, Dean was always happy to clean up the mess. It was the same way he was with Sam, which made for quite the mental argument for himself in this situation. On one hand, Sam was his brother and he was, from the moment Sam had been born, supposed to take care of him for all his life. On the other hand, you were Bobby’s only child, practically a sister to him, someone who always made sure he had something to eat.

Sam sighed in frustration at Dean’s answer. He didn’t have time for this.

“Just tell me what she said.” Sam demanded. He wasn’t angry. It was the guilt eating away at him constantly since he had set his eyes on your familiar face again. He knew he had his reasons for leaving, very valid reasons, but he could never come up with a decent enough excuse for leaving you in the dark. He knew you would have talked with Dean about the situation in some capacity. He also knew that Dean, whether from you telling him or him just figuring it out on his own, knew something was going on between you and Sam.

“She told me that you’re a dick who treated her like some chick you met at the bar.” Dean rounded on Sam, keeping his voice low to not alert the others in the house. The glare he had sent Sam softened when he saw how his younger brother’s face fell.

“She hates me.” Sam said mostly to himself. He collapsed onto the bed with his head in his hands. Dean took a seat beside him, feeling his own guilt for blowing up on his brother.

“What did you do, Sammy?” Dean asked. He had already heard what you had to say but he wanted to hear Sam’s side of it all. He knew better than anyone that anger and heartbreak could make a person say things they didn’t mean. Sam looked up before speaking.

“I loved-,” Sam flinched and corrected himself, “love her. I love her.” He needed to repeat it, just for himself to hear.

“When I… left, I messed things up. Every single night all I wanted to do was call and hear her voice.” Sam was finding it hard to say the words out loud. It was the first time he had vocalized the whole situation.

“So why didn’t you?” Dean was thinking the whole thing was stupid. If you were in love with someone you never let them go. Of course, that advice applied to everyone but him.

“I couldn’t, Dean. Everytime I thought about it, something stopped me from doing it.” Sam sighed, hating himself already for how he handled things. Dean didn’t know what to say. He could tell Sam hadn’t wanted to hurt you, but that didn’t mean everything was fine. You were hurting, bad, even if you claimed to only be angry.

“Did you tell her this?” Dean asked. He already knew the answer. Sam hadn’t told you, or if he did, he had said it in a way that distracted you from what the words really meant.

“Not in all those words.” Sam mumbled, feeling embarrassed from how he had reacted to you earlier. Dean rolled his eyes. God, you and Sam were practically the same person. No one wanting to admit what was said.

“Well in what words then?”

“When she, um, when she yelled at me, I yelled back.” Sam avoided Dean’s eyes. Dean sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He was starting to get a headache from all of this.

“You need to tell her. You need to tell her everything.” Dean looked at his brother. Sam nodded.

“I know.” Sam replied. Dean clapped a hand onto Sam’s shoulder and gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Then get out so I can sleep.” With that, Sam left the room. He wasn’t sure if he should find you now or wait until morning. He decided quickly that this couldn’t wait, he needed to see you now. He walked to your door, much like he had the night before. This time when his knock was met with silence, he opened the door to see you in a deep sleep. He sighed, knowing he didn’t want to wake you. In your sleep you looked closer to the girl he had left behind: peaceful and angerless. He swallowed and left your room to go to his own for the night.

----

This time when you woke up, it was the middle of the night. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bed.

3:00 AM

Perfect. Another sleepless night. It was useless to try to sleep again. Your mind was awake. It hadn't helped that you had been dreaming before you woke up. Dreaming of Sam. Of him holding you, kissing you, loving you and never leaving. It was painful when you looked back on it. Maybe you didn't hate him like you said you did.

You sat up in bed. How could you pass the time? Some fresh air might be helpful, the night only slightly chilly this time of year. You pulled yourself out of bed. After grabbing a zip up hoodie, you stared at your bedside table where a gun was stored in the top drawer. It was true that you weren't a hunter, not physically anyways. You were more inclined to research and find the cases. Bobby hadn't wanted you out there risking your life, but he also didn't want you sneaking around with some other hunter. So, he had given you the option and you had chosen to simply learn the basics. He taught you how to shoot, how to salt the windows and doorways, how to punch. You know, the father-daughter time every family experiences.

You made the decision to grab the gun, just in case. Town was pretty safe but you didn't want to risk anything. You tucked it into your pocket, safety on, and made the journey to the back porch. Once there, you shut the door behind you and took a seat on the steps leading to the yard. The sky was clear and you could see the stars twinkling back at you. The moon, not quite full but almost there, shone a yellow-white light. You were content just sitting there with nothing but your thoughts and the crickets chirping in the grass.

You needed to think about how you truly felt about Sam. The stubborn part of you insisted that you hated him, that you wanted nothing but to never see him again. When you pushed past that, you knew that you truly did love him. You always would. It was as if it was chosen for you far before you were born. You wanted him in your life forever.

But there was another thing living inside you. Doubt. You were scared that even if you did let yourself love Sam again that he would leave you again. What if he found another way for a normal life, a way that didn't involve you? What if he left you again, this time for good?

A noise broke you out of your thoughts. You felt a presence behind you. In one swift movement, you had your gun pressed against the intruder's chest. You looked up at Sam with wild eyes, but he could see the fear in them. That fear morphed into sadness then a wall of anger came to defend you. You didn't move the gun.

“Are you going to shoot me?” Sam asked with a nervous laugh when you didn't seem to move away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Maybe.” You replied, still standing in the same way. You flexed your jaw before speaking again.

“What do you want?” You knew he had gone out for you. He had been trying to get you to talk to him again after the fight in the car, but you had continued on with your mission to ignore him.

“I want to talk.” Sam repeated his words from earlier. When you still didn't move the gun from him, he slowly moved his hands to cup around yours and the gun. You let him, only flinching slightly when he made contact. Moving together, your hand was lowered and he carefully coaxed the weapon from you, placing it on the porch near the steps. The whole thing happened without you and Sam breaking eye contact.

“Please.” Sam pleaded with you. After a moment you nodded and reclaimed your former spot on the step. Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and joined you, leaving only a foot of space between your bodies. You looked out to the yard as you waited for him to speak.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I've ever done to hurt you. Including today, including back then, and even including that time I pushed you when we were kids.” Sam blurted the words out. You smiled at the last memory, remembering how a ten year old Sam had jokingly pushed you into a lake without knowing you couldn't swim. He had been the one to jump in after you, but it still brought on an embarrassing guilt to him that you always felt when you did something wrong as a child. You still didn't look at him. You were afraid that you would cry if you did.

“I messed up. I should have called or… I don't know, done anything other than what I did. I thought about you every single night. I really did.” Sam continued on. You kept your eyes on an ant hill that you had spotted.

“Then why didn't you?” You asked in a small voice.

“Every time I picked up the phone, something in me wouldn't allow your number to be dialed. I was scared of ending up like my father. Of losing you like he lost my mother and turning into him. I thought I wanted a normal life, but I think all I really want is you.” Sam reached a hand over to softly grasp yours. You allowed this, which sparked hope in Sam.

“I love you.” Sam's words made you turn your head to look at him. Sure, he had said them before, but teenagers said things they didn't mean all the time. You could see it now that Sam meant them with every fiber of his being.

“I love you so much. I always have and I always will. Nothing could ever take that away. You don't have to feel the same, you can hate me forever, but I will always look for you in everything.” The declaration of love made your stomach erupt in a tornado of butterflies. Your eyes watered at the emotion you were feeling and you looked away from Sam as a tear fell. Sam's expression turned to panic as he realized what was happening. He rushed to close the space between you and pulled you into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he said into your hair, trying to get your attention to stop your crying. His care of you only increased the tears. These weren't like the ones you shed back in high school. These were happy, relieved tears. Tears that were brought on when you felt that overwhelming love and comfort from Sam.

“What's wrong?” Sam asked, his hold on you tightening in a way that he knew calmed you. He had only seen you have a panic attack once, when everything had just piled on way too much, but he remembered how you seemed to calm from the pressure. You did the same now, but the tears kept rolling.

“I've waited so long to hear you say that again.” Was your only response. It broke Sam's heart when he saw what his actions had actually caused. This wasn't the anger you used to keep from him, or the lack of attention you had been showing him that week. This was heartbreak, grief from the loss of someone you had never imagined loosing. But with his words came the first aid kit that your heart needed to mend itself. It pushed the defense strategies away and left only the pure emotion of love.

You tilted your head up to his. Tears still rolled down your cheeks, but they were slowing. You hesitated at first, but in the end, Sam felt your lips on his. It was baffling the way you two fit together so perfectly. The kiss wasn't lustful, but that didn't mean it lacked passion. No, this kiss was full of the passion that Sam felt when he held you in his arms and knew, from that moment on, he would never let you go again.

----

That morning - only a few hours after you and Sam had kissed -, you were wrapped up in Sam's arms. You both were sleeping in your room, in your bed. Everyone's clothes had stayed on through the night despite what someone may have assumed if they caught the two of you. No, after the kiss, it was apparent you and the Winchester needed sleep. It just so happened that when it came time for you to split off to your separate rooms, no one wanted to let go. So, here you were now: you cuddled into Sam's side and Sam, who looked oddly out of place in your nest of pink blankets, holding you while you slept. He had been awake for around half an hour but hadn't wanted to disrupt your sleep. He lay there, rubbing his thumb across your skin soothingly and watching the way you quietly snored into his chest. You were his again, all his, and in the morning light he knew his earlier thought of never letting you go would be his sole purpose in life.

Your nose scrunched as you woke. You opened your eyes to see Sam looking back at you. You smiled to him, a gesture that he returned.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You asked, your voice only slightly above a whisper. Sam craned his neck to place a kiss on your lips.

“Just thinking to myself how lucky I am that I get to wake up to this.” Sam mumbled into you. You wiggled your body up so that your faces were level with each other, smiling sweetly. You felt like a teenager again, feeling like nothing mattered other than the person you were with. Sam's hands fell to your hips.

The kiss was growing deeper, more passionate. Your own hands found their home on the back of Sam's neck. Your mouths moved in sync and you felt the need crawl up into you. You ground your hips into him, resulting in a groan from Sam. His hands traveled from your hips, up to your waist, moving under your shirt. He lifted the fabric up and over your head, exposing the top half of your body to the morning light. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before moving down to your breasts. He cupped one in his hands and kissed the other, eyeing the necklace he had given you for your birthday that lay in between the mounds. You closed your eyes as he kneaded the soft skin. Your hands tangled in his hair.

“Sam,” you breathed out, almost against your will. His response was to move his free hand down, dipping past the waistband of your pajamas. He felt the arousal leaking from you and smirked to himself.

“All of this for me, pretty girl?” He mumbled against your skin. He rubbed circles on your clit with two fingers.

“Of,” you began, but hissed in pleasure when he began to touch you, “of course.” You finished your sentence just as Sam pushed the two fingers into you. You bit down on your bottom lip to keep a loud moan from escaping. Sam moved his fingers in and out of you, occasionally nipping at the skin on your chest. You rolled your hips into him, desperate for release.

You were doing a pretty good job of keeping the noises at a low volume until Sam started to use his thumb to rub circles onto your clit while he pumped his fingers into you. A loud whimper erupted from your lips. Sam's hand that held your breast shot to cover your mouth, something you were grateful for. While Sam loved hearing the effect he had on you, he knew that he could risk drawing attention to your room. Between Dean and Bobby roaming the house, there was no way he could let you be as loud as he wanted.

Sam felt you tighten around his fingers as your orgasm grew closer. This only encouraged him further. It was a sight, the two of you intertwined in each other. Your hands in his hair, his hands in their respective places on your mouth and hidden in your pants. A final moan from you vibrated against Sam as your body tingled in the intense pleasure of your release. Sam helped you through it, only pulling his fingers out of you once your body relaxed.

You pulled your fingers from Sam's hair. Sam stayed where he was, opting to lay his head on your naked chest instead of returning to his place next to you.

“I missed you.” You said to him. You meant it in every way, not just from the revelation over the years that no one would be able to touch you in the way that Sam did. His chuckle shook both of your bodies and he looked up at you.

“You missed me?” He repeated your words in a questioning tone, an air of suggestive teasing sparkling across his eyes. You rolled your own eyes at him and looked away, leaving him unanswered.

“Let's get you cleaned up.” Sam offered before pulling you up with him.

----

It had turned out Dean and Bobby left to go into town for supplies for a project you had no interest in remembering about. This information came from a note that was taped to your door. It was perfect, just the thing you and Sam needed after your eventful morning. You both slipped into the bathroom. Under the excuse of ‘saving time’, it was decided that the pair of you would shower together.

With the shower running to heat the water, you and Sam stripped. It had been a while since the two of you had been completely naked in front of each other. Sam had grown from that awkward, lanky boy into a filled out man. Your eyes raked over his body, tempted to ask for a round two. Sam ran his tongue across his lips at the sight of you. You were so beautiful, that's all he could think as he followed you into the shower and pulled the curtain closed.

Sam let you stand under the water first. He watched while you wet your hair with closed eyes. When you opened your eyes to see him, it was your turn to smirk. You beckoned him to you with a finger. It took no hesitation for him to rush to you, taking you into his arms. You squealed out a giggle when he crashed his lips into yours. You knew then that this shower was about to last a lot longer than expected.

Sam bit down on your lip, not harsh enough to draw blood but still enough to make you gasp. You felt yourself be lifted up. Your back was against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around Sam's waist as he pushed himself into you. You groaned at how he filled you, causing Sam to pause in alarm.

“Move. Please.” You broke the kiss to pant out. Sam responded by reclaimed your lips and moving his hips steadily. You moaned into him as he found the perfect angle and pace to fuck you in.

“So perfect, baby, the best fucking pussy I've ever had.” Sam muttered as his hips slammed against yours. His voice made the butterflies in your stomach flutter to life. When you clenched around him, he moaned.

“God, you do that again and it'll make this the quickest I've ever come.” Sam's fingers dug into the soft of your hips. The back and forth pressure of his pubic bone on your clit as just enough to send you into overdrive.

“Sam,” you mumbled. This only made him speed up his movements.

“Say my name, baby.” Sam rested his head on the wall next to yours as he pounded into you.

“Sam, S-Sam, Sam,” you repeated his name over and over, feeling yourself growing closer to your second orgasm of the day. Sam felt his own coming onto him and the sound of his name on your tongue helped him keep you both upright through the pleasure.

It dawned on you then that even with how many times Sam had told you he loved you through the night, you had never responded with the same words. You weren't scared to say them, not anymore.

“I love you, Sam. I,” you swallowed when he angled his hips just slightly more upright to drive into just the right spot, “oh my god, I love you so much.”

That was Sam's undoing, hearing you say those words to him. When you felt him spill into you, it brought on your own release. His pace slowed, turning sloppy. When he stopped, still sheathed inside you, you placed a kiss behind his ear. As you both tried to catch your breath, the sound of the bathroom door opening was drowned out by the stream of the shower. It wasn't until Dean called your name that his presence was known to you. Sam whipped his head up, holding his breath. You tensed and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Yeah?” You answered, praying to God or whatever greater force there was that he would leave the room quickly.

“I've just gotta grab something quick, don't come out.” Dean spoke loud enough for you to hear. He looked for the item, his wallet that he had left on the counter by the sink. The clothes on the floor caught his eye on his way out. There were yours, as expected, but the black long sleeve piled on a pair of sweatpants were, without a doubt, not belonging to you. He knew instantly who they had come off of and smirked playfully to himself. He knew Bobby was still outside, which was for the best. The old man would probably have a heart attack if he found out his little girl had been defiled in their shower.

“Have a good morning, Sam?” Dean asked cheekily. Sam hung his head low and breathed out in embarrassment. You hummed out a sound, disappointed in the fact you had been caught.

“Uh… yeah.” Sam replied sheepishly, clearing his throat. Dean laughed at the obvious discomfort from his brother.

“Bobby's outside, we've gotta run out again, but we'll be back soon. You jackrabbits better be decent before then.” Those were Dean's final parting words before the bathroom door was swung shut, leaving you and Sam to stare at each other. You burst out a laugh, the interaction suddenly seeming not as terrifying as you had imagined.

“He knows?” You asked Sam, assuming Dean already had some kind of prior knowledge that Sam would try to make up with you.

“He knows.” Sam nodded, his own face breaking out in a smile. He pulled out of you and guided you into a standing position. The water was lukewarm, the hot water steadily running low. You both finished showering, taking turns washing each other's backs. Sam had ended up using your shampoo, making him smell like a flower rather than the musky scent he usually wore.

Once finished, you gathered up two towels, handing one to Sam. Sam wrapped his around his waist while you let yours envelope your body. Your twin morning routines were performed together, brushing your teeth side by side, you patting moisturizer into your face while Sam watched. Your paths split off when you went to your room to get dressed and Sam entered his own to do the same.

----

You and Sam were in the kitchen when the other men arrived home. You were prepping for dinner, even with it being hours away. You had Sam chopping onions while you added spices to the chicken in the glass pan. Bobby walked over to you, bags in hand, and looked into the pan.

“Finally awake?” He asked. He had gotten up before you and hadn't seen you all morning, which was unusual. “We missed ya at breakfast.”

“Had a long night, Dad.” You replied and let Sam reach around you to pour the diced onions into the dish. You wanted to kiss him, but knew you needed to have a talk with your father before any PDA ensued. Dean scoffed at your words, a smirk coming across his face.

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean chimed in, which earned him glares from you and Sam. Bobby, seemingly oblivious to the suggestive tone in his voice, chuckled at your response.

“One of them books keepin’ ya up again?” Bobby offered, giving you the perfect excuse. You had complained a few times before of the exhaustion you had felt after staying up reading all night. You were a frequent flyer at the local library, often times spending a day there reading or talking quietly with the librarians.

“Yep.” You smiled out and washed your hands before covering the glass pan with aluminum foil. You placed it in the refrigerator to let the chicken marinate before you would cook it later that night.

Bobby and Dean excused themselves from the room, muttering something about patching up some siding on the house. Ah. That was right. There had been some animal getting at the side of the house, causing some of the siding to get pulled up out of place. You hummed out a ‘see you later’ as they left to the outside, leaving you and Sam alone again.

----

His lips were on you again. It had started out innocent enough, just a small peck once you were sure it was just you and Sam. It was when he kissed you back with that same need from earlier when it escalated. Now, he had you sitting on the counter with him standing between your legs while your lips moved against each other's. You rested your hands on Sam's sides under his shirt, brushing your thumbs across his ribs. It was dangerous, being so close out in the open. Even more dangerous when Sam pulled you body closer to him so there was no space between.

You hummed into him when you felt his fingertips on your spine. All you felt was Sam. His skin, his warmth, his love. All of it. The rest of the world was nothing when you had him with you. Maybe someone else would think you were moving too fast, doing too much for just having reconnected with a lost love. You just figured you were making up for lost time. Plus, it’s not like anyone would be losing their clothes. Not in the kitchen anyways. You pulled away from Sam and could have sworn a small whine vibrated in his throat.

“Upstairs.” You whispered, not because you were afraid of anyone overhearing, you just didn’t want to break the heat of the moment. Sam took hold of your lips again, needing to kiss you before any relocating occurred. Just as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, you heard the voice of the last person in the world you wanted to see in that moment.

“What in the Sam Hill!” Bobby’s voice cut right through the tension in the room. You ripped away from Sam, your wide eyes settling on your father. Bobby’s face was a mixture of shock and anger. Shock that you were wrapped up in the same boy that, as far as he knew, you hadn’t said more than three words to since his arrival, and anger at the sight of his daughter, his one and only baby girl, being in such a position. He wasn’t mad at you. No, he could never feel anger towards you. He was mad at the man that still had his hands under your shirt. Dean came into view behind Bobby, his pleasant expression dropping when he was able to see what Bobby was seeing.

“What the hell are you doing to my little girl, Samuel?!” Bobby exclaimed out, shaking you from your paralyzed state. You scrambled off the counter after Sam took a few steps backwards and away from you. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you dashed to your room. It wasn’t until you slammed your door shut that you remembered you had practically left Sam to the wolves downstairs. You were tempted to go back down there when you heard your father yelling out questions to Sam, but the sound of Dean defending his brother told you he was fine. You turned to sit on your bed and pulled your knees to your chest.

Why? Why had he decided to walk in at that time? It’s not like you were going to hide the relationship forever. You weren’t an immature teen anymore. You just needed to have that talk with Bobby first before anything. You had never brought home a boy, not that there were any boys other than Sam to bring home. He had been your first everything. First crush, first kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner. You had been flirted with since he left by a handful of people. First it had been your senior year lab partner, then the waiter at a diner in town, then some guy at the library, and there had been that one new hire in the police department that had dared to come up to you in front of Bobby. You had deemed none of them good enough to fill the hole Sam had left in you.

This had to have been the biggest shock of Bobby’s life. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while listening to the volume downstairs slowly decrease with every word. You knew your father would come around to the idea of you and Sam, but the guilt of him having to find out like this had you questioning why you had waited. You knew, though, that you wanted to sit him down in the evening when everything died down and he had finished his day. Maybe you should have just done it when he first came home.

The sound of your door opening broke you from your thoughts. You turned your head to the door to view the visitor. Your eyes fell to the floor when you saw it was Bobby entering with a weary smile. You refused to look up at him, even when you felt the mattress dip down with his weight on it. No one said anything for a minute, which felt like it lasted eons. Finally, your voice broke the silence.

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice cracked towards the end of the question, fearing he was disappointed in you. Bobby placed a hand on yours, where it was holding your shoulder. You looked at him then. The expression on his face, one of fatherly love and adoration, calmed your nerves instantly.

“I ain’t mad.” Bobby answered, shaking his head. You breathed out in relief, but knew that wasn’t the end of the conversation.

“Sam? Really? That punk idjit?” Bobby questioned. You laughed weakly, knowing Bobby loved Sam as much as you did.

“I’ve always loved him.” You let your body relax and stretched your legs out on the bed. Bobby didn’t look shocked to hear this and you wondered if Sam had said the same. You wished you knew what Sam had said to him, if only to make it easier to steer the conversation in a productive direction.

“I figured as much.” Bobby sighed out. It was then you decided to just come clean about it all. You would leave out that morning, both in your bed and in the shower, obviously. You moved closer to him, making it so that you were sitting directly next to him.

“This all started on my birthday, my sixteenth.” You began, making Bobby furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait, you lot kept this from me for five years?” He questioned you with raised eyebrows.

“No, no.” You took in a breath before continuing, praying you weren’t going to make anything worse. “When Sam left for college, he, um…” You didn’t want to say the words out loud to your father. Bobby wasn’t dumb. He put it together in his mind and his jaw set in irritation.

“He ignored ya.” Bobby’s voice was firm. He remembered that time, that chunk of months when you moped around the house like a kicked puppy. He didn’t know what had happened and you didn’t tell him. He hadn’t known why back then, but now it all made sense. He should have seen that you just so happened to dull down after the call from Dean that Sam was gone. It all made sense now. He was going to kill that kid.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know how to continue. After a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat.

“Please don’t be mad at him. Please. It was my mess to handle, and everything worked out. Everything’s fine now.” Your voice held a begging tone.

“I hope you gave him hell, darlin'.” Bobby was gruff with his words. You let out another weak laugh, remembering how you had made Sam pay for his actions.

“I almost shot him.” It was Bobby’s turn to laugh.

“Good, good.” Bobby nodded his head in approval. That was his girl. With the information he was given, Bobby still had one more question. He turned to you, face screwed up in pure curious disgust.

“On the counter?” Bobby’s question made you wince. You were quick to shake your head in defense.

“We were only kissing, Dad. It won’t happen again.” You promised him, which earned you a grateful nod. Silence fell over you two again. Bobby hesitated before saying his next words.

“You’re grown, I know that. I also know grown ups involve themselves in…” he chose his next word carefully, “situations.” You knew exactly where he was going with this. The Talk. He had never given it to you. He didn’t think he had a reason to, but he assumed now would be when you really needed it. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Stop!” You blurted out, not wanting to hear another word he had to say on the topic. Bobby appreciated the escape from the conversation, but was still worried for you. He opened his mouth to ask if you knew everything - even though you were twenty one, which was far old enough to know at least the basics - but you stopped him.

“Mrs. Turner gave me the talk when she caught me and Sam the first time.” The sentence spilled out before you had a chance to think about them all. You cringed when Bobby’s mouth fell open in shock.

“The first time?!” Bobby then thought about the first part of your sentence. Mrs. Turner had been your neighbor growing up. Unfortunately for you, she wasn’t anymore. “Mrs. Turner died when you were sixteen.” Bobby recalled.

“It was a few months before that.” You admitted. “I guess we sent her to her grave?” You added with a sheepish smile in an attempt to lessen the blow the information would give your father. Bobby’s hand found a home over his heart as if he was calming himself.

“Oh Lord.” He muttered out.

----

It was the end of dinner time now. The scent of cooked chicken still wafted through the air as you and Sam cleaned up the table. After your talk with Bobby, you had rejoined Sam and Dean downstairs, where they waited in the living room. You didn’t have to hide your love for Sam anymore, much to the dismay of Dean and Bobby everytime you chose to place an innocent kiss on Sam. They were happy for you both, but kind of missed when the PDA was nonexistent.

You handed Sam a rag to wipe the table down with and carried a stack of bowls to the sink. You felt arms wrap around you while the sink filled with the soapy water. Sam would be helping you with dishes tonight. Unlike the help Dean had given you, this night would be filled with Sam standing as close to you as possible. Sam stretched his neck down and around to kiss your lips. You tasted of the strawberry pie you had made for dessert.

“I love you.” Sam told you, his hold unwavering when you reached to turn the faucet off. You smiled and licked your lips.

“I love you too.” You responded and gave him one last kiss before grabbing a sponge.

[dragonridernoobie]

Glad to see a undertale au author still up and running.

Thoughts on writing a feral underfell bitty sans (possibly abandoned, escaped from a bad place, neglected? Who knows) the reader finds injured and patches them up + befriends them?

Some bitty fics include feral bitties travelling together, like a horror or classic sans with a fell.

Basically, go nuts, no strict requests. Interpret it how ever you like :)

Hope you like this request, idk just enjoying the fandom.

Enjoy the rest of your day/night ^-^

I am so happy to do this! It reminded me of a picture I found on Pinterest that I wanted to adopted fell san bitty. Here is the picture. Also, I'm gonna do it with fell and horror since they where abandon for there looks and attitude.

To anyone else reading this: You will adopt him, and if you don't, I will find out where you live and kill you. Then I'm gonna bring you're ass back from hell and make you write a sorry letter to a fictional character.

Enjoy <3

FellSansBitty X Reader X HorrorSansBitty

It was just a normal day in Ebbot city. All you wanted to do was get a coffee and some treats but mother nature decided that you where gonna deal with nature and threw the biggest Strom the city has seen.

You where currently running down the street, you're jacket over you're head to stop getting wet.

While on you're way back home, you ran by a alley you passed a million times. Though, this time was different. You heard crying. You stopped and tried to listen over the heavey thunder and rain but you couldn't.

When you got closer, you where able to hear it clearer. When a loud thundering boom made it's present, you heard a whimper. When you followed the noise, you came across a wet, broken down box. On the front it said "bitty for sale." There were numbers also scratched out.

25$, 15$, 5$, and free. You looked inside and you saw a bitty. Bittys where interduced to human kind when monsters arrived above ground.

Humans took them quickly and made more of them. They are now used for therapy, friends, pets, and teatchers for the disabled.

Though there were times when bittys did stuff they were not meant to do. Like bitting, talking back, and actually running away from their owners. People called then "broken bittys."

When that stuff happened, people would take them and dust them or put them down in human words. You did not believe in that way since it was wrong, and living things should have free will.

So when you opened the soggy broken box open, you came face to face with the bitty. It looked up at you, scared but also hissed at you in fear.

You used your best smoothing voice to calm into bitty and reach your hand out. Showing it that it can get on your hand if it wants.

When another loud thundering boom was heard, it quickly grabbed you're hand and you slowly raised it up.

Now that it was in your hand, you quickly brought it underneth your jacket and got a closer look at it

It looked like....

FellSanBitty

It looked like a little cherry. It had a big furry black and yellow jacket and shorts.

It had red eyelights.

It looked at you while you stood up and quickly ran to you're house.

Once you reached you're house, you where quick to grab a towel and help the bitty dry off.

It grumble and snapped at you, saying it can do it it's delf

Once it was dru, you interduce youreself. "Hi, my name is (Y/N). What's you're name?"

"....sans...but I like being called red...."

You nod and ask him if he wants food.

You make him some grilled cheese and give it to him.

He complains that the grilled cheese was too cheesy, but he was lying that he hated it since he was eating it faster, then he could chew it.

You had to tell him a few times to slow down.

While he eats, you asked him why he was in that box.

Red stopped eating and looked at the ground.

"No one wants a mean looking bitty..."

Obviously you don't like that so you pet his head and say to him. "I don't think you look mean looking. I think you look tough."

Red looks at you surpised. He looked at you like you were joking, but how you were petting him, you wernt joking.

He blushes and pushes you're hand away.

"I ain't cute."

You chuckle and nod. "Of corse you're not."

"I said I ain't fuckin cute! Now stop fucking petting me!"

You guys are gonna have a instresting relationship.

Pretend that's you're hand.

HorrorSansBitty

When you got a better look at the bitty in you're hand, it looked hurt.

It had a hole in its head, torn up clothes, and seemed to be shaking from the cold.

You held it aginst youreself and ran home.

Once home, you quickly grabbed a towl and help it dry it off, being mindful of its hole in the head.

Once dry, you asked him for a name.

"......sans......but people call me horror."

You nod and ask if he wants some grilled cheese.

His eyes seem to shine at the sound of food and quickly nods.

You make some and give it to him.

You watch him devour the grilled cheese in seconds.

You had to tell him to slow down.

Once he was done eating, you asked the hardest question.

"Why where you in that box?"

Horror stopped eating the crumbs and looked down

"No one wants a broken looking bitty."

You're hurt by his words but after a bit, you take 2 fingers and pet his good side of his skull.

He immediately looked at you surpised but smile and purred.

You just got a skeloton cat bitty.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ from my family line. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x reader

୨ৎ genre: angst

୨ৎ content: family issues (reader), past abuse from family (specified as father), mentioned verbal abuse, implied physical abuse (only if you read into it, i don't specifically mention it), implied alcoholiscm from father, mostly just implied past issues so you can kind of just insert your own situation or use your imagination, hospital mention (breifly, and for the father), abandonment issues, comfort (from billie), super long build up until billie comes in but i promise our girl plays a big part in this!! one singular use of y/n i'm so sorry

୨ৎ note: part of my superache collection <3 based off the song family line. uh yeah this is a little piece of my soul and the most personal thing i've ever posted here so hi guys (also i'm feeding yall wdym i wrote this in the same day as footnote who is this what have i become) anyway writing this made me wanna off myself so have fun <3

୨ৎ wc: 3.1k

billie knew you didn’t have a good history with your family, everyone knew it. your father had been as cruel as your mother was tired—she was tired of him, she was tired of life. she had tried her best for you and your siblings, which you were grateful for, but you would forever mourn the childhood you never got to live. 

your father was a quiet man, but the thoughts he harboured behind the quiet mask were lethal. he said things that would live in your mind for evermore, things that you couldn’t escape from no matter how hard you tried. 

your father was your first taste of being unloved. 

you’d basically cut contact with your father after you finished high school, and moving out had been the biggest relief of your life. it had been hard, leaving home at eighteen and not getting any help from your parents, but it was needed. you needed the space, you needed to be able to breathe for once. 

but god, it was weird. you had felt alone in your family home, but you still felt alone away from them. some strange part of you missed it, missed having people around you, even if you had felt so unsafe around them. 

you couldn’t help the way your eyes gravitated towards the families during the holiday seasons—the fathers with their little girls, scooping them up in their arms and spinning them around. the family picnics, the photos, the memories that you’d never been given the chance to make. the experiences you would never live. it hurt your heart, the way you were jealous of these children, but why were you somehow so undeserving of that love? why did the universe hate you so much that it had put you in your situation instead? 

your whole childhood, you had been scared. you’d been an anxious child, and you knew it had stemmed from the way you were treated, the way you were walking on eggshells in your own home. most days, you’d go to a friend’s house for fear of what version of your father you might come home to—you’d never tell your friends the full story, also out of fear, but it was a place to hide from the sad, sad reality you’d been born into. 

in your second year of high school, your older brother had moved out. you couldn’t blame him, you knew that you would also be getting out of the house as soon as you possibly could, but he had been your only rock, your only sense of salvation. now you were alone, and there were countless nights you found yourself sitting in his childhood bedroom, staring at the empty desk and the discarded collection of school stationary in his cupboard. no one had bothered to clean anything up since he’d left, so it was kept in a permanent state of memory. 

you didn’t see your brother much after he moved out, he had distanced himself from your father and everything connected to him. you understood why, but you were alone. for the last three years of high school, you’d been the only one in the house alongside your two parents who hated each other more than anything else. 

you felt like ever truly being loved was an impossible feat, as though anyone who loved you was destined to leave in the end, it was only a matter of time. 

but somewhere along the way, you met billie. 

billie was everything you never knew, everything you had never felt. billie was love in the purest forms, love in ways you had never believed could be real. day by day, billie was slowly breaking down your walls, helping you see that there was love for you, and that your parents were not the prototype for every relationship. she didn’t understand what it had been like for you, having these family issues, but she’d been more than happy to help you work through it, to stay by your side while you healed from the things you never said. 

you began to open up more than you’d ever thought you would—you began to love billie more than you’d ever thought it possible to love anyone. 

your walls were breaking down, just for her, and that thought terrified you. 

what if she left as soon as you’d fully let her in? what if you were too much for her to deal with? 

but you weren’t. the two of you had been together for two years, and although you’d had your share of ups and downs, as every relationship did, she’d never once made you feel unwanted. with her, you felt like you were worth something. 

for once in your life, you had someone who made you feel like you were someone worth fighting for. 

you had blocked your father’s number years ago, after an event that transpired after you’d first attempted to move out when you graduated high school, a jumble of words, feelings, and actions that you hadn’t even known he had in him, let alone directed at you. it had been your last straw, and you’d sent your mother a text telling her that if she was going to continue her relationship with him you would not be seeing her unless she made plans specifically without him. she had made plans, but since that moment you had found yourself significantly distanced from both your parents. 

it was like you didn’t even have a family—of course, you had billie’s, which you were eternally grateful for. you would never get over how welcoming they’d been, how finneas had taught you to play guitar, how maggie had taught you her favourite vegan recipes, and how patrick had taken you to all his favourite museums. it was somewhat like having parents to teach you these things, but… nothing would ever compare to the idea of having your own family. 

you had wished for years that maybe your childhood had just been some sick nightmare, that you’d wake up and your brother would be visiting you with his girlfriend and their dog, and you’d be having dinner at your parent’s house. 

of course, it wasn’t a dream. it was a nightmare you were very much awake for, and you certainly would not be getting another chance with a better family. you’d never even met your brother’s girlfriend, and the only way you knew that they had a dog was through your cousin. 

you’d never planned to ever speak to your father again, and when you did, you wished it had never happened. it was a spring night—you’d just been to billie’s parents’ house for dinner, and you were in a good mood, so you didn’t think much of it when your phone lit up with a message from an unknown number. 

(208)-464-1943 hello 

you’d texted back simply, mostly focusing on the task of putting some clothes away in your closet, only barely giving the message attention.

(323)-182-7742 hi, who is this?

(208)-464-1943 is this y/n? 

at that, your focus was snatched up by the messages—who was this? if they knew you, why not just say their own name?

(323)-182-7742 who is this?

(208)-464-1943 your father

for a long moment, you just stared at the screen, as if the text was going to disappear and it’d be replaced with ‘hey! i’m the girl you met at that volunteering thing last week,’ and your day would continue as normal. but it didn’t, and you spent an alarming amount of time staring blankly at the message in blue. you were in disbelief—you hadn’t spoken to your father in almost three years, why was he messaging you now?

breaking you out of your trance, another message popped up below the last.

(208)-464-1943 can we talk?

(323)-182-7742 no. i had your last number blocked for a reason, and i’m going to block this one. leave me alone.

(208)-464-1943 i’m in hospital, did your mother tell you? you should visit.

you hadn’t known that, and it made your stomach clench with anxiety. in hospital? for what? is he okay—

you hated the concern you felt, and you stared at the message for a few minutes. 

would you visit? no. no, you wouldn’t be visiting your father in hospital. not after everything. you couldn’t help the slight guilt you felt, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. not after everything, not after the hell that was your childhood. what good would seeing him do, really? 

(323)-182-7742 i won’t be visiting.

208)-464-1943 you’re no daughter of mine.

of course that was his first reaction, to turn it on you as if his years of making your childhood a living hell didn’t take away his right to have you by his side. after all, respect is earned, and this man certainly did not respect you. 

you hated the way that in your mind, your automatic response was “you’re no father of mine”. because although that was true, you hated the fact that after everything, you had that same mean streak. you had the same need to prove yourself, the same snappy defensive words. for years, you’d told yourself that your father was merely the man who’d brought you life—but perhaps it was impossible to be trapped in on all sides by someone for so many years and not inherit their mannerisms. 

you hated that fact, and you caught yourself before you typed it out. you would not stoop to his level. 

instead of following in his footsteps, you left him on read, blocking his number. 

then, you slumped down at the foot of the bed, your head falling back against the wood as you squeezed your eyes shut, head tilted up at the ceiling. your hands clasped together in your lap, squeezing, squeezing, and your phone lay discarded on the floor next to you. you were unsure exactly when the tears had started falling, nor were you fully sure of the reason why. 

perhaps it was the fact that he’d messaged you—being in contact for the first time in so long was terrifying, and it made your heart ache. or maybe it was the words he’d said, about not being his daughter, maybe it reminded you too much of the past and the careless words he would throw around back then. 

or perhaps it was the fact that you were his daughter. 

despite everything, no matter the hatred for him that had been brewing inside you since before you even knew what hatred was, despite his harshness and the way he’d treated you over the years, you were his daughter. you had been born into a life where he was your father, where he was half of you. you had been born into a world where you didn’t feel like you could visit your father in the hospital, and that stung. 

you wanted to feel the pain, you wanted to be able to sit by the hospital bed and hold his hand while you both cried, perhaps you would reminisce on the past and the memories you’d made together—oh, how you yearned for that life. but that life was the future of the little girls you saw each summer, up on their father’s shoulders, looking at him like he was the best thing in the world. 

that was not your life. that was not your life, because you were his daughter. 

you were only sitting on the floor of the bedroom for about six minutes before billie walked in, humming a tune softly. her eyes settled on you, the way you were crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed, deflated. a soft, concerned frown found its way to her face, and she instantly sat down on the floor next to you, “hi, my sweet girl. what’s wrong?”

upon feeling her presence next to you, you didn’t speak. silently, you shuffled closer to her so that your side was pressed against her, your head resting on her shoulder. your hand found its way to her arm, closing around the soft fabric of her hoodie, feeling the material between your fingers. 

she didn’t push you to speak, she just allowed her hand to find its black on your lower back, moving slightly up and down in a soothing motion. gradually, your hand relaxed slightly around the fabric of her hoodie, and that was when you let out a sob. your head buried in the crook of her neck as you tried to hide your face, a sense of shame washing over you. 

you clung to her like she was your lifeline, like she was your only source of oxygen. she held you gently in her arms, her hand moving up to your hair, where her fingers ran through it soothingly. you only buried your head further in the crook of her neck, muffling your cries. 

“oh, baby. d’you wanna talk about it, or should i just hold you?”

and despite the shame, despite the fear, you wanted to talk to her about it. you needed to. she was the only person who’d truly made you feel comfortable talking about this stuff, and you needed to talk about it more than anything in the world. 

“he texted me.”

there was a short pause, a moment of silence. billie’s brows furrowed slightly, a feature you would’ve noticed had you not still been hidden in her shoulder. 

“...your father?”

you nodded into her shoulder, “new number. he said…” you trailed off, another choked sob leaving your lips. 

“hey, take your time, honey. there’s no rush.”

“he said he’s in hospital.” 

billie fell silent, and you felt her arms tense around you ever so slightly—a barely noticeable shift, but you noticed. “did you–”

“he told me to visit. i told him i won’t.” 

you noticed the way billie’s arms seemed to relax around you again, “yeah? how do you feel?”

“he– he said i’m no daughter of his.” billie’s mouth opened to speak, but you continued. “but i am. and i just…like, i just wish i wasn’t. i am his daughter. i am. i can’t hide from that fact. and i hate that. i hate that he’s my father. i hate that we share a face, that we share a last name. we have the same eyes. maybe if we weren’t so similar, it wouldn’t hurt so bad.”

billie’s hand shifted down from your hair to your arm, stroking softly as if to ground you, gently coaxing you away from your hiding space in the crook of her neck. when you were finally face to face with her, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

 “my darling girl, you are not the same as him. no matter how similar you may feel, you may look, you’re not your father. you’d never treat anyone the way he treated you. i know that, even if you don’t. you are a sweet, kind person, and it shocks me that you’ve managed to remain so kind when you were raised without the nurture you deserve. you’re a strong, gorgeous, lovely person, and i am so proud of you for doing what you knew was right, yeah? him bringing that up was just a manipulation tactic, he wanted you to feel guilty. it wasn’t about visiting him, it was just him being a shitty excuse for a father.”

you hummed quietly, and the two of you stayed on the floor like that for a while, your heart thumping in your chest as you rested your head against her shoulder. after a long moment, she spoke softly, “want to move up to the bed?”

“mhm,” you agreed, and she helped you up and walked with you to your shared bed. she lay there, propped up against the pillows, arms outstretched for you to join her. you did just that, sinking into her arms with an impossible sense of relief, finally back where you truly belonged. 

“do you think there’s another universe where i could visit him?” 

billie paused, looking at you. “...i’m sure there’s a universe out there where you get to love him like you deserve, but i don’t think you should dwell on that. in this universe, he doesn’t deserve it. you don’t owe him anything, not after how he treated you.”

another soft hum left your lips, “yeah.” you nuzzled up to her side, “yeah, you’re right. i just hate that he acted like one message would change things, like somehow him texting me after three years meant i’d want to see him. it just felt like another way of guilt tripping, another excuse.” 

billie nodded, her fingers threading through your hair and brushing down the side of your arm, “it’s valid, you know. how you feel. i’ve never experienced anything like what you did, but i know that.”

“thank you.”

a gentle silence fell over the two of you as she held you through it, your mind racing overtime with thoughts. leaning closer into her embrace, you sighed. 

“i hate the way he always tries to put the blame on me…” 

billie hummed softly, and you continued.

“someone who loved me wouldn’t do what he did.”

billie’s lips brushes against your forehead again as her fingertips danced across the skin of your arms, a non-sexual intimacy which was solely to comfort you, remind you that she was here. “exactly. i know it’s hard, but…” billie’s voice trailed off as she watched the tears still trailing down your cheeks. 

“this…this is just…bringing everything back. can you talk about something? please? i don’t want to think about it.” 

at your whispered words, billie nodded instantly, “mhm. wanna hear about the songs me and finneas were playing around with the other day?” 

“please.”

so billie spoke, her voice the same soft and soothing melody that it always was, and you sunk deeper into her arms, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume that lingered on her clothes. you weren’t fully listening, and she knew that, but it was taking your mind off the memories, which you both knew you desperately needed. she talked about the songs, mentioning a guitar song that was in the works, and you smiled at that. billie’s guitar songs were something else. 

as she spoke, her hand rested on the skin of your bare shoulder that was exposed through your tank top, her thumb moving in soothing shapes across your skin, her touch warm. if you’d been more aware at that moment, you might’ve noticed the stars she was tracing across your skin, the words she was writing. you might have noticed the ‘i love you’ and the heart. you didn’t, you just noticed her. her touch, her voice, her love. 

after what felt like hours of listening to her speak, a soft lull came in the flow of her words, and you spoke up. 

“you won’t leave, will you?” 

and billie didn’t miss a second before she replied, her voice still soft and adoring. “never.” 

all that i did to try to undo it

all of my pain and all your excuses

i was a kid but i wasn't clueless

someone who loves you wouldn't do this

୨ৎ tags: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes @amara-eilish @dragoneyelashart @greenbttrflyy @billiessillywife @tan1shere @asothinking @ilovealiceosemann

[unpunishablelamb]

hiiii!!!!! ও Im not sure if you still post creepypasta headcannons but I really liked the headcannons you gave the creepypastas, it's really nice to realistic headcannons, if you want I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the friendship of the reader and ticci Toby 0_o

(If I made any typos or used bad grammar I'm really sorry (◞‸◟ㆀ) )

Realistic Ticci Toby headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

A/N: Okeyy so for the friendship headcanons just ignore the NSFW part! I just decided to combine your ask with multiple anon asks who requested relationship/NSFW headcanons🫶🏻

SFW

-First of all he isn’t the one to settle down. He has a bad past with people and it’s incredibly hard for him to trust so he prefers not spending a lot of time at your place, if he ever goes there at all

-He’s basically homeless and probably squatting in abandoned places outside of smaller towns so if you ever want to spend a little more time with him it’s there or in the woods

-In contrary to popular belief i don’t think he is shy. He is very wary and kind of feral so physical touch is a hard one with him

-He is touch starved to some degree but then again he’s become so callous due to everything that has happened, that he won’t initiate or reciprocate for a long time. He won’t push you away either though

-I think if you ever share a bed/mattress with him, you might be woken up with a hatchet to your throat or a hand wrapped around it. At least in the first few months of your relationship, simply because he’s not used to having anyone around so he panics when he gets startled and his fight instincts kick in.

-Despite everything, i do think he’s very thoughtful once he warms up to you. I can imagine him leaving you things like rocks or trinkets he finds which remind him of you

-He’s really possessive no doubt. Hardly anyone has treated him with the smallest amount of kindness, and now that you’re in his life he won’t settle for less ever again.

-I can definitely see him being the type that wouldn’t let you get out of the relationship/ friendship alive in case you ever want to leave him. Either you stay with him or he kills you. Of course it would be hard for him to do since he “loves” you but the thought of you being with someone else, leaving him to rot, is much harder

NSFW

-I don’t think he’s had experiences before you which doesn’t make him shy but even more greedy

-I think it would take him a long time to trust you enough with something like that. He isn’t reckless or sleeps around but he wants to know that you won’t backstab him (literally)

-He knows how sex works, he’s not stupid and he’s watched campers in the woods do it, thinking they were being sneaky. Of course he couldn’t help imagining it was him and you

-Now that you conditioned him to get used to a certain degree of affection and physical touch he expects more, of course he does and you love him after all right?

-Let’s hope you’re ready to sleep with him when he wants you because i do think he’d pressure you into it

-I don’t think it’d be him getting physically violent but he’d try to make you feel bad for him, try to blackmail you, manipulate you etc.

-If that doesn’t work maybe he would wait until you’re asleep, start sliding his hand under your shirt and do his thing

-I think he’s decent in bed, clumsy at first and he’s so pent up that his pleasure is all he can think about at first.

-If you do criticise him make sure to be gentle about it, he’s insecure and he will get mad easily thinking you don’t want him but he does like you please you after all and he enjoys having you show him what you like

-Hickeys. Everywhere. Good luck trying to hide them because it will look ridiculous but he can’t help it. He has to make sure others know you’re not available

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Hermitcraft / Life Series Fic Recs

Because I love so many of them...

I'll split the fics into completed and updating fics, and try to only recommend currently updating fics (i.e., not abandoned). I'm going to write a little about why I like each fic and what the general vibes are - so this is also a kind of review I guess?

I've tried to @ the authors if they have a public tumblr. Sorry to anyone who didn't want to be tagged, I can remove any @ if you ask (or if I have embarrassingly tagged the wrong person). Anyway, enjoy, and I appreciate reblogs because I want as many people to see these fics as possible!!

This ended up being incredibly long so I'm putting a divider here. Click to keep reading!!! Also, fair warning: shipping ahead! Some fics will have mild sexual content, please read the tags if you are unsure <3

Updating Fics

I have already recommended Help Me To Breathe, lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart), and There Are Monsters Nearby in this post, so I won't explain why I like them a second time, but definitely check them out!!

Death's A Good Gig by @mawofthemagnetar is probably going to be finished by the time this post gets to you, reader, but I'm putting it here anyway. It's short and sweet, one of my favourite representations of Zedaph (or, Zedeath) I've read, and just a joy to experience. If you like grim reapers and discussions of unions, this one is for you. Also I need more Zedaph in my life.

Look, I'm Sorry, Please Stop Scaring Everyone by @cat-in-the-desert reminds me a lot of a particular TV drama I liked when I was younger, which followed a similar premise. This fic follows Mumbo (vampire) and Grian (ghost) as they get up to various housemate shenanigans and meet their local magic-expert and salesman Scar. This fic is fun, but still includes a nice amount of Feelings and hinted-at Angst which I really love. It's lighthearted, but never boring.

It Hurts To Hope by Inquillitory is my favourite of the "Grian crash lands into Hermitcraft and causes problems for everyone" genre. Seeing how many fics there are with that premise, I think that says a lot. It handles Grian's weird Watcher stuff really well. Honestly, I just want to know what happens next!

killing the boy in the tv by @raspberrystruck is like a sickfic on steroids. If you want Grian with so much past trauma he forgets how to function in society, this is basically the fic for you. I really love how hybrid traits affect the characters' interactions in this fic, and how everyone is kind of messed up because of the imbalance Grian brings. It is wonderfully descriptive in all the right places!

Love Me Like I'm Dead by @daniofcrows is such a gem. You know how hard it is to find good Xisuma whump? It's impossible. I absolutely love how Xisuma and Evil X are characterised in this, and I am obsessed with the unique take on hanahaki disease which I have never seen handled in this way before. The balance between flashbacks and present day is maintained wonderfully and I cannot wait to continue reading this one. Wow.

Oh, you wanted me to do a verse? by @bugbbear is... kind of indescribable. It's horror. It's comedy. It's the apocalypse. It's boatem. Scar eats someone. One of the most interesting and unique apocalypse stories I have read. Slowly updating but worth the wait, in my opinion. This one NEEDS more attention.

So Much For Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters is basically one of my all-time favourites. Which is a damn good achievement seeing as I don't usually read ZITS fics. Like, ever. In this fic, Skizz is a human abducted and hurt badly by aliens, now recovering in the care of good aliens who don't know how 'sentient' he is. Every update of this one makes me smile, it is wonderful. I love how the characters are written and how the different perspectives are shown. It is just great.

Solar Waltz by @raspberrystruck and aroundtheclock is a brilliant and very very sad regression fic. I love fluffy regression fics as much as the next guy, but this one just... hits different. The hurt/comfort levels are off the charts. Grian is so damn cute the whole time, while also being harrowingly complicated and sad. I am so ready for whatever comes next.

Tango's Castle of Cards by @evilrat-sabre is the one where Tango is a BUG. He's just a little guy (horror). This one is so beautifully written, with poetry-type interludes and perspective changes that really make everything feel so much more impactful. Finding out your buddy is a murder bug isn't the easiest thing in the world. I love this so much.

Traveling Thieves {Dark Fantasy AU} (series) by @amethystfairy1 is basically one of the series of all time. I know I keep saying that but it really really is. I love a good fantasy au, and I love an au with hybrids even more. In this world, hybrids are treated like slaves, but it isn't all doom and gloom for the main characters of each installment. There is a lot of hurt/comfort and the different stories feed into each other in really interesting ways. I try to read as much as I can, though I've missed a few because my emails are buggy. Definitely worth reading these fics, especially since now they're all starting to come together!

Completed Fics

Solving Counting Sheep by @theminecraftbee might have rearranged my brain chemistry a little. Another strong contender for 'fics that inspire me to kill Grian', this time with a more concrete notion of "replacement". Three is my favourite fucked up living weapon. It's so rare to find Evo fics in this day and age, too. This fic had me immediately clicking on every update as soon as I got the emails.

Rescue Fire by @imaginethat0327 is one of the most unique takes on a fictionalised life series game that I have ever read. The whole concept is explained in a realistic and easy-to-follow way, as we learn what's happening with the characters. There are several brilliant storylines happening in this one, but my particular favourites are Jimmy & Tango, Joel, and of course Scar & Grian. This fic is full of whump and, well, read the tags, it isn't always pleasant, but those are my favourite things ever. Definitely worth checking out this fic and its currently updating sequel.

don't you know about me? by takenbadgering is a wonderful comedy of errors with just the right amount of angst for a realistic setting type of fic. If you enjoy polyamory miscommunications, rave aesthetics, kandi, school teacher dynamics, and a lovely blend between grumbo, cubscar, and mumscar, this is the one.

Eventually the Birds Must Land by @milo-hypno follows a polyam ship I would have never thought of, and I cannot believe how much I loved it. This married-as-friends fic premise is wonderful, and captures the main trio (Grian, Mumbo, Impulse)'s personalities so well, while balancing them with the incredibly terrifying descriptions of the Watchers and their power. There's a lot of angst here, but it is ultimately hurt/comfort to the maximum degree. I loved reading it as it updated. Yay for gay marriage!

From The Archives (series) by @sixteenth-days was the absolute inspiration for my own Comms AU, and I will never forget its influence on me. As someone basically unfamiliar with TMA, I thought this series might be hard to follow, but it was not! I read all 57 parts in the span of two days, and I think it altered my brain chemistry. Please read it, even if (especially if) you don't know anything about TMA. The Cleo and Grian storyline lives in my head rent free. I mean it. This is horror at its finest. Also there's an audio series of this fic being released rn, which is very cool.

SUPERCRITICAL by @masque-of-plague hits different. It is such a wonderful take on the superhero/HotGuy trope, and it gets so super dark at some points! This one really takes swings at it's fictional government, which of course I love, while at the same time building this brilliantly emotional relationship between Scar and Grian. I do enjoy a bit of enemies to lovers, but the actual plot mixed into the story makes this one extra special. It is thrilling, with action that I don't get to see too often! Great work.

I am weary with contending! is one of the mumscarian fics of all time. From 'this house has people in it'-type horror, to magic gone wrong, to childhood trauma, to attempted assassination, to gender fuckery, this fic has it all. Usually I don't go for convex siblings, but this one is good enough to get a pass from me. Amazingly detailed worldbuilding alongside a brilliantly creative story.

It Spreads by @foxxology may not count as a fic, actually. It's a comic. But it's posted on ao3 so it counts. I was obsessed with this one as it was updating, honestly. It rocked me to my core. The art is phenomenal. The writing is brilliant. I love sculk.

Luck of the sea by Sleepy_Duck is a lovely take on mermaid and human interactions, with Grian as a marine life conservator and Scar as a very neglected mer. This one takes us emotionally in all sorts of directions, and offers lots of hope for the future of the characters. I heavily enjoyed this fic - if you like mermaids and marine biology, check it out.

there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag is another mermaid fic but with a pretty different vibe. First of all, it follows what I would consider a rarepair Doc/Martyn. Second of all, reading this as it updated was a thrilling experience that nearly made me cry at certain points. I love how the relationship builds in this fic. It is honestly amazing. The whole idea of experimenting on a sentient sea creature, learning that he can communicate, then losing funding and having to save him from being dissected?!?! It's crazy. I love it.

Thus concludes my fic recommendations. I hope you enjoy at least some of these, and consider reblogging to spread these wonderful fics around <3

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader x jung wooyoung warning(s) -> abuse, mentions of physical health, cursing, etc. words -> 3K

abstract -> is readoption really a good idea...

y/n's perspective

I admit… I needed to get myself together. I should’ve when he broke up with me in the first place. Instead, I relied on working and even then I hit a brick wall. 

When I got San I had an idea for this novel. 

Hybrids who rebelled against society’s expectations. It made me think what if they fought to be equal without having to live like animals?

I was at another block, however… and even Wooyoung refused to see me again. 

So I was shocked when I heard from Kun that San wanted to speak with me. I was still looking for someone to take him but every look goes away when I say he was anything other than a green-coded hybrid.

He’s an exotic hybrid… and even then no one wanted to even meet him. 

Why? He’s such a pretty hybrid… I could only imagine how much more he would be if he was happy and healthy…

I soon heard the door open and I saw him. I knew he was a yellow code now but seeing him in a different uniform made me smile even if it was slightly. 

“Hello,” I said and he looked nervous. “Adopt Wooyoung,” he said. It threw me off… I’ve thought about it. Especially while being rejected by his owners.

With how I was recently I couldn’t take care of a hybrid after failing with San. “I don’t know if you know how he is… but he’s been in the medical wing for over a month now. He was happy when he smelled you on me when I first met him. Now… he’s like you” he said and I was confused. Like me?

“Lifeless eyes” he muttered. Was that how I looked? Wonyoung compared me to a zombie while Johnny said I look like the trauma patients he sees daily. Yuta even compared me to heartbroken teenagers wanting a tattoo for the first time. 

He, however, saw me as lifeless. Maybe that's the more accurate one…

“Please” he pleaded and I didn’t know if I could. “If it isn’t too much to ask…” He wandered… he looked nervous to ask me. 

“I want you to adopt me again too,” he said and I was shocked. He wanted me to adopt him again? “San, if you want to be home with Wooyoung, I'll look for someone to take you both–” even though I knew that would be near impossible “--I’ll make sure the two of you are together,” I said and he shook his head. 

“I want… I want you to make me happy” he said, bringing my broken promise again. “I don’t think I can–” “You can! Please” he pleaded and I saw how much healthier he looked. I knew his behavior was better. 

“San, I don’t want you to be unhappy in my home. You lasted two days… I don’t think I'm a good person to help–” “No one else ever will. I admit I don’t like humans… I don’t trust you. You did however try…” he said.

I looked at Renjun who was by the door. He smiled softly.  “Kun agrees,” he said and I sighed. I smiled softly. 

“Then, I'll make sure to change your mind, San. Not all humans are bad!” 

san's perspective

I wasn’t in favor of being domesticated… trusting someone who could very well end up killing me one day. It was better than living in a cage… or was it?

I’m basically leaving behind the metal bars for luxurious walls. 

I’ll truly be a pet now…

She smiled softly but her eyes showed anxiety. They shook slightly… it didn’t seem like she was scared of me. So what was she scared of?

We were now waiting for the fox to come out. She wouldn’t stop bouncing her leg as we waited in silence. Almost a suffocating silence. 

“y/n-nie!!” I heard a yell as we stood up and he ran up to her. Easily picked her up and swung her as he held her tight. She was surprised but laughed. She eased up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry they abandoned you, Woo,” she said as she rubbed his back and buried her face in his shoulders. His smile turned soft instead of an excited grin. 

“You’ll be better than them!” he exclaimed. 

“I’ll try my best,” she said and he chuckled. “You already are!” he said. These two were close… Why did I choose again to help the fox?

“Wooyoung, you’ve met San right?” she asked as he put her down and smiled at me. “He’s my new best friend!!” he said… I did not agree with that.

“Let’s go home,” she said. Home? I guess it was the closest I'll ever get.

We got back to the place. It was the same…

“Woah!! It's a big upgrade from your old place!!” Wooyoung said. “Mhmm! Oohh, you guys can have your own room. I know San wouldn’t feel comfortable maybe?” she suggested and we nodded. I did not want to share with the hyper fur ball. 

“I still don’t understand why they left you there,” she said and he smiled softly. “Well, they didn't… They left me at the Seoul Hybrid Adoption Center. I was too much for them to handle so they took me for treatment to the kennel” he said with his ears down. 

He was in the same place I was. 

“I did meet this doberman!! He was so cool, I kinda miss him. For sure he got adopted though!!” he yelled. Just how loud was he…

“y/n-nie!!” he said, grabbing her attention. “Are you any better?” he asked and she smiled softly. “I’m getting there,” she said. Better from what?

“Go get situated!  Oh, and San the bags are still in your room so you can choose anything you want. Wooyoung I’ll get you some more clothes soon” she said as she went to her room. 

“She got you clothes?” he asked and I nodded. “What did you mean by better?” I asked and he sighed. “She’s… a lonely kid,” he said sadly. 

Lonely?

“Her parents don’t really give her any attention. They just give her money to survive… She disappointed them by becoming a writer. I remember her sobs at the old apartment. She was just in high school and she lived by herself. She had no one to take care of her when she was sick or to come back with warm food. She could barely even cook herself” he said.

The trust fund kid was lonely…

I promised Wooyoung I'd make them happy. Y/n still didn't have my trust nor did he but I wanted to protect her.

“There was this really bad time she came back completely drenched in rain crying outside her door. She came back from school after her activities… Did you know she was a student council president? Ooh!! She was also the president of the yearbook in her class–" "You're getting distracted” I cut off. He really knew a lot about her and talked in admiration. 

“Oh… yeah. She came back and it was a heavy rain alert that day. She came back very late and luckily nothing bad happened to her. But she forgot her key inside and the services of the apartment were closed for how late it was. She cried so much the next day that her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy. My owner wasn't home so I talked to her. She didn't want my help but I helped break into her apartment and made her warm food.-- '' he said. I could see his worry.

“--she barely even kept food in her fridge. She had a huge fever that night so I stayed over to take care of her. When I told my owner they called her parents but they didn’t really care. They called her later scolding her for being careless with her health and not even her mother came to see her” he said and I felt a little bad. 

A kid in high school? She would’ve been young… she must've felt… abandoned.

“She would always go out with friends but come back only to cry. I could never understand it. She told me she felt lonely. She had no one despite having friends who took care of her. She would always lie to them.” he said and I sighed. 

“They had to have known,” I said and he nodded. “Her closest friends are Wonyoung, Chenle, and Shotaro. She has a lot of friends but… she never seems to ever be happy” he explained. 

I’ve heard of Shotaro… and I've seen Wonyoung. Who was Chenle?

“I didn’t know she knew Kun or any of them in the facility,” he explained. “She won’t feel lonely though!!” he exclaimed and I was curious about how things would play out. 

“Not with us around. You’ll also fulfill your promise!” he explained. I nodded as I followed him to the hall of our rooms. 

Someone who is left alone in their own thoughts… Was that someone who could be trusted?

What Wooyoung said didn’t make sense. She seemed happy… livelier around him. I did notice she had pathetic attempts at cooking, and she was busier recently. 

She didn’t seem lonely.

“Do you have to go out tonight?” Wooyoung asked her and she only smiled. “I do. Wonyoung has been restless recently. She’s having me go to this party tonight” she said and I almost scoffed at her excuse. 

Trust fund kid… yeah right, she wasn’t lonely. She was probably only bored. 

Probably get bored of me.

“You have San to keep you company okay?” she said and I realized how she was dressed. In a designer dress, jewelry is probably as expensive as a house.

“She’s really pretty” he muttered to himself as the elevator closed and she waved us goodbye. “Get a grip. She’s a human” I said and he sighed. “I know… but how can I help myself, when I've had this crush for years now?” he asked and I sighed. 

The fox was wrapped around her pinky…

“I’m gonna start cooking for us!” he said changing the subject. He started becoming the chef of the apartment which y/n allows. He even ordered groceries with recipes he wanted to try out. She’s even gotten him a collection of recipe books. 

I was going back to my room when I noticed her room was open. 

I decided to go inside… I never saw her room. It had a mountain of clothes on her bed and a bunch of shoes on the floor. 

What caught my attention was the bunch of papers… I picked one up. It was a story… I saw on the pile the title was ‘Circus’

“Get a grip, Kyong! Humans are nothing but monsters. They’ll only eventually hurt us. We need to escape this hell hole!” he yelled in desperation.  Young had enough of entertaining people whilst he got hurt, punished, berated, and so much more.  “But how? We would never survive out there Yong”  Kyong said as he tried to soothe the burning sensation on his arms from his punishment earlier.  “Then we’ll die trying. I think it's time hybrids created a revolution–

She was a writer. 

She was also human… not an experiment gone wrong decades ago to be made as a pet. 

Yet, how did she know how hybrids viewed humans? The inner desire to live freely but can’t because of survival.

I don’t how long I was here but I heard Wooyoung screaming my name.

I left her room bewildered and curious. 

“Foods ready!” He said and I smiled. “Hey, Wooyoung? You mentioned once she was a writer?” I asked and he nodded.

“She mentioned wanting to study journalism. I wonder if she did… I remember my old owners buying newspapers and I even saw her name! And then one day I saw her book on the shelves!!” He said proud, almost like her number one fan.

“I convinced them to get me her books… I only ever read two of them. One of them is about hybrids and humans hunting each other, the other is about a bunch of short stories in one book. Different stories on different news stories of abuse on hybrids” he said.

She wrote mainly on hybrids…

“She’s known as a hybrid activist,” he explained. “Then why would she adopt us? Wouldn’t that be out of her morality?” I asked confused and he shook his head.

“I asked her one day if she ever thought of adoption. She said yeah… but only if it were to help a hybrid out and if she was in a good position to care for one” he explained.

She did help me…

We ate as Wooyoung kept talking about y/n… he knew so much about her despite not seeing her for years. “Oh there was also this one time she… uhm San?” he asked and I waited for him to ask what he wanted. 

“Shouldn’t she already be back? It's pretty late” he said and I noticed it was dark out now. Where was she?

“Is she gonna be okay?” Wooyoung asked me but I didn’t know. At least an hour passed when we heard the elevator. “y/n!!” Wooyoung yelled hopefully.

It was a man with y/n on his shoulder. She was drunk…

“Hello… unfortunately y/n here is drunk,” he said and she giggled. “I’m not drunk!” she said, clearly drunk. 

“I’ll take her!” Wooyoung said and the guy almost looked reluctant. “Be careful with her okay? She’s had a long night” he said as he carefully placed her on Wooyoung’s back and I noticed she had a jacket around her waist covering her. 

Were they together? 

“Please take good care of her” he asked and we nodded as we walked to her room. “Why’d you take so long y/n?” Wooyoung asked and she hummed. “I already told you. My hybrids hate me… I doubt they’d want me back so soon” she muttered and Wooyoung and I shared a look. 

“What makes you think that?” he asked. 

“San, did I mention he was pretty? He almost looks like one of those hybrids you’ll see in modeling… maybe even those influencer stars. I… wanna find him a good home…” she said and I felt myself freeze… find me a home?

“What? But… What about me?” Wooyoung asked… “You said you couldn’t take care of hybrids… you’re always in your shop anyway to care for them, Yuta,” she said… she must've mistaken him for the guy who brought her here. 

“What about the fox?” I asked and he smiled softly. “He’s just like I remember… but I don’t think I can separate the two. Even as much as I missed Woo’s comfort” she said and I didn’t want to leave. 

“What if San doesn’t want to leave?” I asked and she sighed. “There's no way he wants to stay… he’s only there for Wooyoung. He forced himself to even greet me… he even flinches when I enter the room,” she said. 

“You should get some rest,” Wooyoung said and she nodded. “I’ll miss them…” she said as she curled up on her bed and we heard her change her breathing. 

“We should watch over her to make sure she’s okay,” Wooyoung said and I nodded.  “I don’t want to leave this place,” I said and he looked at me shocked. 

“Why are you surprised?” I asked and he shook his head. “It's just that… well you do immediately shift when she enters a room. You change your posture… you become almost submissive. It's like you're trying to be an obedient hybrid” he explained… 

“It just seems like you aren’t comfortable here…” he explained and I sighed. “I don’t think I've felt comfortable in years, Wooyoung,” I said and he sighed. 

“Do you think she’ll actually give us away?” he asked and I felt panicked at the thought.

“I really hope not” 

y/n's perspective

Waking up a hangover isn’t something anyone enjoys. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” Wooyoung said excited like he always does… I couldn’t be mad at his happiness. “Wooyoung try being a little more calm. Her head probably hurts” I heard San? 

“Ah, sorry. Here you should drink this” he said as he gave me a cup of what I assumed to be the hangover solution I keep in the kitchen. 

“I also have breakfast ready,” Wooyoung said and I nodded. “Let me get out of yesterday’s clothes,” I said and he nodded. 

I got out of the dress I was in and washed off the makeup I had on. I put on more comfortable clothes for the day.

I now find myself in the kitchen where I see my two hybrids waiting for me. “You shouldn’t get out so late like that. We were worried” Wooyoung said and I was shocked. 

They were worried for me? “Oh… I'm sorry” I apologized. 

“y/n?” San asked and I looked at him confused. “I wanna thank you for everything,” he said as he bowed. “What? San–” he soon even got down on his knees confusing me as to why he was suddenly doing this.

“I don’t remember the last time a human offered me the kindness you have. Please, just give me time to get used to this new lifestyle. I wanna give being a pet a chance” he said and I was confused as to what got in his head. 

“San you aren’t a pet to me,” I said and his ears twitched. “The both of you aren’t pets… I told you when I first adopted you. All I wanted is a companion” I said and he sat up to look up at me. 

“A companion?” he asked and I nodded. “A friend… I don’t expect anything in return. I promise” I said and he nodded. I soon felt a tight grip around me. I felt the familiar warmth that often comforted me years ago. 

“Please don’t get rid of us!” Wooyoung yelled and I petted his head. “I promise,” I said… maybe I mentioned what I was thinking yesterday. I looked at San who only stared… I stretched out a hand to him, silently telling him to join us. 

He hugged me and Wooyoung tightly as well. 

“I promised to make you happy… and I extend that to you too, Wooyoung”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[takumifujiwaraswfe]

HIIII :)) i saw that request were open! is it possible that i can request boyfriend headcannons for miyata from hajime no ippo !! , thank youu ^_^

(This boy does not have a single normal pic of his eyes I swear-)

Ichiro Miyata romantic headcanons

| PLAYLIST |(the first song is literally made for him)

(my fav Hajime No Ippo boy I waited for it. Sit comfortably it will be a long list)

You and Ichiro were classmates in high school. That's basically how you met, but you didn't talk to each other much before one... accident.

You always liked boxer boys. Who doesn't, duh? And well, your female friends found out and started shipping you with Miyata, as everyone knew that he is a boxer. Very hot one If I may add.

He found out about it and god it was awkward. He just stared at you.

But somehow you got yourself together to apologize him about your friends and that's how it all start.

You were walking from school together as you live near his boxing club. Except he ran few meters in front of you...

After few months you became really good friends. You were taking pictures of him sometimes as you were learning how to use your new polaroid. (( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

One day it was raining really hard and after his practice he went straight to your house. Your parents were shocked at the least but let him in.

You gave him a towel and started drying his hair off as he was changing his bandages on his knuckles as it were all wet. He said that you're paying off a debt of having polaroids of him lmao.

You were soooo ashamed.

And he just kissed you.

Pure shock.

After that you stood in silence. He was laying on your bed, reading a magazine and you were trying to do your homework to keep your mind away.

Your mom went to your room to ask you both if you want something to eat and oh god how hard it was for Ichiro to explain his diet to her so she wouldn't think that someone is starving him or something.

After that you just sighed and went over to lay next to her. You never said those words, but you are together. He calls you his girlfriend next to his friends in class after all.

He's the type of guy that won't fight for you when needed. He'll teach you how to fight for yourself and then help you.

The high school it couple hellooooooo

You started running with him after school. Holding hands.

Comes over to you after his trainings and then his dad picks him up after.

Now you can take pictures that show a little more of his daily work if you know what I mean.

Takes you to his matches when he can.

You're learning things on each other and how the fuck he makes out with you so good at first try?????

Literally you hid in your room to try and he's randomly a pro????

Will braid your hair.

If he goes out with his friends. He takes you. Always. No exceptions.

You'll be just walking through some weird places (yk teen meetup spots) in the middle of the night with his friends? He's holding your hand. Non stop.

Will take you to urbex. In the night. Without his friends.

Will also make out with you in random abandoned buildings cus why not

WHEN HE WEARS THESE SHORTS THESE SPORT SHORTS IDK HOW THEY'RE CALLED BUT THESE PLAIN SPORT MALE SHORTS THE ONES THAT ARE LIKE ABOVE KNEE LEANGHT HDSUJGFSDKF OMGGGGG (these are my addiction I had to do this I'm sorry but just legs in them...)

holds your hand in school so there's not really any boy hitting on you, but if there were one trust me it wouldn't be good.

Not really jealous type of guy but a 'I don't like someone touching what's mine' type.

Will talk shit on other people with you. I think he's a type of guy that would gossip, but only with his girlfriend because he thinks that friends can always leave.

trust issues but in other people not you. You're the only person he trusts.

Takes you to his family dinners.

The type of relationship that even your teachers know about.

He says that he will marry you and even if you won't want to he'll make you cause it's you or no one.

Let's you pick his outfits because he knows how much you love his body.

He loves it too, yours as well. That's why he won't even let you stand near other teens that try out smoking or alcohol. No exception.

You fight sometimes obviously. It's not rare and it's not oten.

Typically either cause he want's you to be healthy and you don't do stuff to be healthy or over some teenage drama. The second one is rare though as he's a little bit more mature than rest of people your age.

10/10 boyfriend. Would recommend. Want one myself.

These one wasn't that cute but I really love teens will be teens trope and doing kind of south park/wladcy moch kind of vibes so soz I ain't quitting that.

[themultifandomgal]

Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So basically Tommy is a single dad to a girl who is 2 so basically Tommy took you to Arthur for the day and all you was doing was crying in Arthur arms and nothing was stopping you crying when you only stop crying when tommy come back and when you got home all you want to do was be hold by Tommy and would cry when you got put down then at bed time all you did was cry when Tommy put you down so Tommy let you sleep with Him hope that make sense

Tommy Shelby- Clingy Daughter

12th March 1924. A day Thomas Shelby will never forget. There was a knock at the door, when Tommy opened it up there on the door step bundled up in a basket was a tiny baby, fast asleep. There was a little note stating that Tommy is the father and that the mother can't support a baby and that she needs a name.

2 years later and Tommys baby is now a toddler and super clingy, which doesn't help when Tommy needs to head off to London for the day. That's why Arthur offered to have YN for the day, what could go wrong right? Arthur knew how to look after a child, he helped take care of his siblings after all and YN knows who Arthur is.

"Ok YN uncle Arthur will look after you, I'll be back later for bed time ok?"

"No daddy" YN cries as her father places her in her uncles arms "daddy home"

"Later. I love you" Tommy gives YN a kiss on her head "she'll be fine once I've gone" tommy directs this towards his brother before leaving for the car

"Daddy!" YN cries even louder as she watched her dad get into the car and drive off. She tries to wiggle out of her uncles arms. Arthur shuts the front door and places the 2 year old on the floor who just stands crying at the front door

"Come on little one. Why don't we go get some breakfast?"

"I want daddy"

"I know YN. Daddy will be back later"

"No now!" YN stops her foot crying. Arthur just knows today is going to be a long day.

Arthur tries all day to stop her crying, giving her cuddles, food, playing with toys but the only time he got a break from the tears is when she cried herself to sleep, but the moment she wakes up the tears start all over again. Finally Tommy arrives at 6pm. A disheveled Arthur answers the door with a screaming 2 year old

"Shhh hey what's wrong?" Tommy says taking the 2 year old into his arms who immediately settled down with just the sound of sniffles coming from the toddler

"Been crying all day. Tried to give her food but she wouldn't eat and threw up from crying so much"

"Sorry Arthur, I didn't think she'd be this bad"

"It's alright brother, one of those things" Arthur shrugs

"Well I best get this one home and something in her. Next time I need to go to London I'll take her with me"

"No it's fine. Just needs to get used to you not being there. Her mother abandoned her, she doesn't have a mother. It's just you and her. I'll see you tomorrow"

"Alright. YN say by the uncle Arthur"

"Bye" she sniffs into her fathers neck with a little wave behind her.

"YN I need to put you down to make you food"

"No daddy" YN shakes her head sobbing once again "stay here"

"I'm not going anywhere"

"Mr Shelby would you like me to make something for her?" Mary asks

"If you could"

"And what would the little one like hmm?"

"YN what would you like Mary to make you?"

"Biscuits?"

"You can't have biscuits for tea. How about bread and soup?" Mary suggests

"Ok. Then biscuits?"

"Yes then a biscuit" Tommy says hugging the little girl closer to him. She's always been clingy but never this bad.

While Mary gets on with making YN some soup Tommy takes his daughter into the living room and sits her on his knee while he reads her a story.

Bath times and bed time has never been so difficult

"YN it's bed time"

"No I stay with you daddy"

"YN I'm here I'm not going anywhere but you need to go to bed" Tommy places YN in her bed once again and starts to walk out of her room

"Daddy!" she screams getting out of bed for the umpteenth time

"YN, daddy's tired and wants to go to bed"

"Daddy's bed" Tommy is frustrated and gives in to his daughter, picking her up he takes her into his room with him. Tommy places her in his bed before getting changed himself, when he returns the 2 year old is fast asleep. 1 night won't hurt he thinks to himself. Seeing his daughter so upset today broke his heart, he never wants to see her like that again. He will always protect his daughter even if that means she sleeping in his bed just because she's upset.

[cultkinkcoven]

I always appreciate Lord Lucifer's bluntness and honesty even when it breaks my heart.

As most of you guys know, I am the black sheep in my family. At 18 I was more or less forced to run away due to a few things (abuse, my being trans and gay etc.)

and I have always harbored some kind of guilt for that. Every now and then I find myself asking if I was the wone in the wrong, if I made the bad decision, if I am the abandoner. And Lucifer has always been very gentle with me in this regard, encouraging me that I did what I needed to do to survive.

This morning I was having another one of those moments, and I was really melancholy about it. And Lucifer asks me what's troubling me and I tell him he already knows.

"I just wonder if I am missed as much as I miss them."

and he gets real contemplative and quiet, and then tells me to look at my phone. When I open instagram, sure enough, it seems my family had some kind of gathering or reunion, lots of nice family pictures of my mom with her new step kids, her partner of course, my aunt, my uncles I haven't seen in years. A caption about how nice it is to welcome the new additions to the family. It was almost cartoonish.

and it was abundantly clear that Lucifer was answering me. "I'm sorry, but they don't."

and I couldn't help but kind of laugh at that. It's funny y'know. I spend all this time worrying about them, thinking, of course, that this must be as difficult for them as it is for me, to be alone, but none of them really are. I'm the only one. and I spend all this time, nervously thinking I'm hurting someone, but I'm not. No one is waiting on me.

and then Lucifer, "why do you spend so much time making space for people who have never made space for you?"

*sigh*, because apathy is a passive choice and I am not passive, and I cannot hate them. My only choice is to be consumed by an unsatisfying love.

"Your ability to love like this is one of the things I value most about you. But it is also a shame that they can still do this to you. This is below you, all those who have truly loved you have risen to your level."

then why do I feel like I'm still the one being looked down at?

"You're hanging upside down and the blood is rushing to your head."

That didn't make me feel any better. I kind of just rolled back over into bed and tried not to think about it. Then, he sort of came upon me more strongly, like he was holding me.

"Part of me rejoiced at the fall," he finally whispered, "When I fell away from Heaven, my brothers and sisters whom I loved most refused to follow me. They could not follow me, for the world below was not the place for them, they could not survive as I did. Every day I watched them continue without me, their songs, their duties. I had no part in it. And when I rose again, when they could see me, they still did not glance. I was outside of their realm. I was no longer a part of the same family. But I rejoiced despite my tears, because I knew that I could fulfill my purpose, my great work, with assurance that my actions wouldn't burn them. I could continue to be myself to the fullest of my ability, knowing they are safe. and in the underworld I found others like me, and in them I had almost a family. A bond that continues to grow, even if it is different."

I saw flashes of my room mates, my boyfriend. My boyfriend's mom who basically adopted me.

"It's not the same. I don't feel the same as I once did. But I was once miserable. And while I do still know pain, while I still do struggle, I am also stronger. I also experience new joys, new ways of thinking. Without this fall, I wouldn't have known life beyond exile. Yes I would be back where I originated, around familiar faces, but it wouldn't have mattered. Never did I cherish my sisters as much as I do now, after the fall. Never was I truly happy with myself when I was there. Never was I truly known by any of them. Now they know me, they are cautious of me, they see my light for what it truly is. I rejoice, because it rejecting me, they have also acknowledged that I have changed. My boy, I would love to tell you that your mother cries for you every day. I would love to tell you to run to her right now, not to waste another second, but that's not the truth. Your mother is content, she's comfortable. She still laughs and has good days without thinking about you. I know that hurts. But I also know that is a relief."

It is...

That does bring me some solace. It almost makes things easier, even if it's somewhat more bitter.

Then I found myself asking one more question. Why us, Lucifer? Why do I keep having to teach myself this lesson? Why did I have to be the black sheep?

and he sort of hummed. "I'm honestly not sure," he answered longingly, "whatever the reason, I'm very very glad it's you and me."

Yeah. I guess I am too.

Are you happy Lucifer? with all this, really?

and he sort of somberly sighed to himself, "No, are you?"

No. At least not right now.

"Let's share whatever this feeling is with each other until we are."

Okay.

[yourjughead]

Attack Dog pt. 4

Sweet Pea X Reader enemies to lovers

A/N: I really like this part, finally some contact going on hehehe

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

Sweet Pea POV

“Sweeeeeeet peaaaaaaa, moove overrrr I'm coming in-'' he slurred and stumbled past. What the hell is going on? He crashed onto my makeshift bed and stretched.

“-I amm having a sleeeeeep over here, the Seniors haveeen comman-commaannnder-commandereeed fuck it, they took my housee” I looked out the front door and watched some very drunk, very big men crowd into his trailer and close it. I went to object to him but he was already passed out on my sofa.

“Sweet Pea what's going on?” YN said smaly from my room. I quietly rushed to her and into my room.

“Jones kinda stole my digs after the seniors took his….do you mind if I stay in here?”

“I mean it's your room sooo I can just make my way home”

“No no stay, I don't know who's still around outside and besides it's freezing” there was little to no space between the two of us. It was difficult to fight my urge to lean into her. I forced myself to take a step back from her, taking a pillow from the bed and throwing it on the floor.

“Just sleep in the bed with me Snake Brain, your old man back will break sleeping on the floor” she shuffled back to the bed and slipped under the covers on my side of the bed. My side. I slid in next to her trying not to completely freak out that I was legitimately sleeping with the enemy. Both our eyes were locked onto the ceiling. I should really paint up there.

“What happened with you and Jughead earlier?” I couldn't help myself, I had to say something to take the weird tension away from between us.

“He told me I abandoned him and it was my fault he had to join you guys” she exhaled the words out. Fault? As if we're the worst thing in the world to happen to anyone. I have all the right to kick his ass from my sofa.

“Just leave him sleep Sweet Pea, you won't get anything out of him now” was she inside my head? I moved gently in the bed at this thought.

“You're not exactly hard for me to read Sweet Pea, relax” she laughed a little but I didn't relax. How was I so easy to read? No one has ever said that before. She rolled onto her side to face me, hands tucked up under the side of her face.

“What else did he say?”

“That I should have fought harder to come home sooner….that I might have been able to save him from you guys…basically it's my fault I'm upset” save him from us? Save him from us?! I went to move from the bed, I was gonna kick him out I don't care. I was stopped by the feeling of YNs hand wrap into mine beneath the sheets.

“Just leave it Sweet Pea, defend your honour tomorrow after you sleep-” she yawned out.

“-besides it'll be a lot more fun to shout at him when he's fighting his hangover” she gave a mischievous smile as her eyes gently closed. She's still holding my hand….I'm still holding hers….why are we still holding hands and why don't I want to let go?

I laid awake for half an hour staring at the peeling paint of the roof. The pain in my shoulder growing from my unmoving hand was getting hard to ignore as YN slept peacefully next to me. Caught between my dying nerves and the dying want to not let go I quickly rolled towards her, releasing her hand and catching it with my other. I misjudged the distance between us and clocked her straight into the head with my own as I did. She dropped my hand to place it on her forehead. Damn it.

“You're such a freak” she laughed, rubbing her forehead and then rolled in closer to me, draping an arm across my waist and gently pulling herself into me, resting her head between the pillow and my chest. Great. This is great. This is also very confusing. Again, it was like she read my thoughts, even half asleep and she sat up, leaning on an elbow to look at me.

“Sorry I… I don't know why I did that”

“It's okay YN…it was actually comfortable…I'm okay with it if you're okay with it” she gave me a smile I never wanted to see leave her. She has to know that that was difficult for me to admit. She rolled to face out towards the wall and for a moment I thought Id left myself be vulnerable to the wrong person, that she'd laugh and reject me, call me the silly snake brain I was and leave. But no. She didn't. She instead shuffled down into the bed and laid her back flat against my chest. I cautiously moved my arm to cross her waist and she caught hold of it to move it faster and then held it there with her own. Am I asleep? Is this a dream? Am I being punked?

I nestled my chin against the top of her head, pulling her closer into me, tangling our legs. So close to me…..oh shit too close she's too close. I shuffled a little to try to hide the part of me that was betraying any sense of secrecy I had about my changing feelings to YN. She just moved back to where she was, no hiding from her. I could almost feel her whole body smirking as she gently rubbed little circles with her thumb on the back of my hand. Damn it she's winning.

“You're not…hard to read Sweet Pea” yup, she's definitely smirking at me. I tried to push the embarrassment out of my voice before speaking. She's not gonna win this one.

“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” I barely whispered, it was her body's turn to…stiffen in the bed alongside me. Point Sweet Pea. I slowly moved my mouth to hover above her neck. We were both so still, I could almost see the hairs on her neck stand on their end. My lips met her neck almost painfully gently. I began to kiss her there until she rolled her head back slightly to allow me more access. I then started to nip her neck, sucking gently as I went. Her own body betrayed her then as she gave a small moan of approval. Point Sweet Pea.

She didn't let my point advantage last very long as she began to push herself into my growing length, a low growl escaping me before I reburied myself in her neck, more feverishly this time. Her hand wrapped tighter around mine on her chest as she grinded into me, encouraging me on. Electric, I was being electrified by her. She rolled more on to her back and I was hovering above her. I didn't really think then, I just leaned down and met her lips with mine. Truly electric. I'm kissing YN. This went further than I thought it would. This is going to go further than I thought it was. She must have had the same thought separating from me. Sex is one thing, kissing someone like that and feeling how we did while kissing during sex is another thing.

“I…didn't mean to….I shouldn't have…” I didn't know what I was saying, almost begging her with my eyes to say anything.

“I-” she was cut off by the sound of Jones sneezing from the sitting room, causing us both to jump. I had completely forgotten he was out there. We were about to…I don't know what we were about to do but we were gonna do it with him out there.

“Night Sweet Pea” was all YN said, rolling away from me again to face the wall, this time not taking my arm with her. Fuck.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling me. I don't think she was asleep either but I didn't challenge her on it. Fuck.

I got up and got dressed, heading into the kitchen for coffee as the sun hit the inside of the trailer. Jones sat up extremely groggily and groaning. Karma.

“Morning” I smiled at him, only getting a huff in return.

“Sweet Pea I'm gonna go before Jughead wa-” YN whispered as she entered the living area. Not quiet enough. Jones' head shot to hers then to mine and back again. If he wasn't green before he certainly was now. I didn't know what to think or where to look. Karma? YN just looked down briefly at her feet, surely just trying to take any break from his giant eyes. Then she looked back, directly at him.

“Morning Jughead, I gotta say, I kinda get the Serpent thing” she beamed. Oh she's evil, she's really really evil, she would make a great Serpent. She then practically bounced out of the trailer, leaving me back to face the brunt of his darkened eyes. Point YN.

Part 5