#i just think it would be so cool if mel the people reader got a look

[vaguelyaperson]

melvika but mel deciding she needs to utilize sevika's strength and/or connections in some way, so she immediately looks to figure out sevika's angle, how to approach her enticingly enough, make it worth her while... and thus becomes one of the first people to figure out that sevika's more than just some scary hired thug. that moment she first encounters the woman she's been told is/was silco's hired muscle and immediately sees how calculated sevika's entire hedonistic intimidation act is, but at the same time not even mel can see exactly what's behind the act. maybe cause for a long time, not even sevika knows. maybe cause to be a zaunite and survive is to become what sevika is presenting - she's just better at keeping it put together than most.

[jaythes1mp]

5070 words, 29086 characters, 239 sentences, 116 paragraphs, 20.3 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Please send me requests. I love writing but I can only do it with actual ideas to motivate me🙏

On your late-night journey home, you're cornered by one of the numerous street criminals prowling the streets of this cursed city. Getting mugged in Gotham isn't anything out of the ordinary, but even still, you can't help but feel surprised. It seemed that strangely enough, the past four years, thugs had begun to avoid you like the plague.

This was a situation you hadn't found yourself in since you were just a fifteen-year-old kid, still struggling to find your footing in the grimy underbelly of Gotham.

The street thug pinned you against the wall, holding you in place while her accomplice jabbed the cold barrel of a gun against your head.

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, fear and panic clawing their way up your spine. Your breath hitched in your throat, a cold sweat pricking at your skin as you instinctively raised your hands in surrender.

As the cold metal of the gun was pressed harshly against your temple, you fought to tamp down the tremors shaking your body. You knew that any wrong move could spell disaster, so you forced yourself to remain still, praying that the thugs would be merciful enough to let you free.

Your mind raced as thoughts of the worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind. The thug with the gun pressed against your head sneered, her grip on your shoulder growing tighter as she spat out a threat.

The sheer terror you felt in that moment was overwhelming, threatening to swallow you whole. The harsh reality of the situation settled on your shoulders like a crushing weight. You were all too aware that you had no experience in dealing with situations like this, leaving you feeling vulnerable and powerless. Your eyes squeezed closed, a lump forming in your throat.

The rough brick of the wall dug into your chest, the cool air of the night doing nothing to soothe the panicked frenzy of your heart. The thug's hand on your shoulder was a vice-like grip, their fingers digging deep into your flesh.

In times like these, you regretted ever turning down the self-defense classes that your old employer had offered. The weight of that decision settled heavily on your shoulders as you longed to have the skills to protect yourself from the imminent danger.

You silently berated yourself for your naivety and carelessness. It had been foolish to believe that just because the villains had avoided you for the past few years, you would be safe from any harm. Yet, here you were, pressed against a wall, a gun held to your head by street thugs.

As your thoughts ran wild, your mind spiraled into a whirlpool of grim possibilities. The thought of your friends' reactions to your potential death played through your mind - the pain and grief they would feel upon losing you. You wondered if Damian would be upset about his sketchbook, the most constant connection you had to him. If Jason would be filled with anger at the inconvenience of tidying up your belongings, if your... no. She’d probably find relief in your absence... You wondered if Tim would shed tears in sadness. The image of him crying, tears streaming down his face, left a bitter taste in your mouth. Then you thought of Bruce. Would he be disappointed you never got to accept his offer? Your thoughts spiralled as you got increasingly more upset. Who was going to feed your pet turtle...? Would she think you abandoned her?

The weight of those unanswered questions gnawed at your thoughts, the possible reactions of your friends, pet, and the people who had offered you a place to call home. Your mind latched onto the image of them crying, the thought of any of their tears causing a pang of anguish to settle deep within your chest. You didn't want to imagine your friends' pain upon your loss, but the what-ifs haunted your mind like a relentless ghost.

The rough bricks of the wall dug into your chest, the sharp edges of the broken and uneven surface biting into your vulnerable flesh. The cold, unforgiving metal of the gun against your skull pressed further against your skin, an imminent threat hanging in the air. You clenched your teeth together, fighting to hold back a whimper that threatened to escape from the back of your throat.

Damian's heart raced in his chest, thumping out a rapid rhythm against his ribcage. Disbelief and anger twisted his features into a fierce scowl. From his stealthy perch on a nearby rooftop, he had silently tracked your movements throughout the night, his gaze never straying far from your form. But now, as he watched intently as you were cornered by a bunch of worthless thugs, his protective instincts surged through his veins. How dare these lowly criminals think they had the right to touch you?! Especially after all the efforts he had expended to ensure your safety. You were his sibling.

The sight of you in danger ignited a fire within him, burning hot with both rage and protectiveness. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. How could he have let this happen? He had been so careful, making sure to keep watch over you from a distance, and yet here you were, at the mercy of criminals who were nothing but scum. His fingers dug into the edge of the rooftop, the urge to leap down and intervene overpowering his self-control. He didn’t have to think twice before swinging into action.

Damian swiftly made his way toward you, propelled by the rooftops with practiced ease. The cool night air kissed his face as he bounded between buildings, his agility and precision a testament to his years of training. He remained hidden from view, his black, yellow and grey costume blending into the shadows, allowing him to quietly approach the scene unnoticed.

As he drew nearer, he could hear the thug's threats, the cold barrel of the gun pressing closer to your head. His temper flared, a dangerous heat building in his chest. These worthless lowlifes were going to pay for putting you in danger.

Robin, perched high above, kept a vigilant eye on the unfolding scene. Every word from the thug's mouth only fueled his anger. He assessed the area, taking in every detail with a cold, calculated gaze. The street was eerily silent, devoid of any other souls. No potential witnesses or interruptions to hinder his intervention. This moment was perfect. A chance to make these pathetic thugs pay for their audacity. They dared to touch what was his.

Each breath Damian took was measured and steady, his heart drumming steadily in his chest. He knew he had to act swiftly and with precision. He couldn't afford any mistakes. You were his responsibility – his blood. No one was allowed to touch you. No one.

Robin’s muscles coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger. His eyes flickered between the thugs and their guns, mentally calculating the best course of action. His instincts were on high alert, every fibre of his being focused on the mission: protecting you.

He’ll make a mental note to have you under tighter security starting in the immediate future.

With a final, calculated assessment, Robin silently prepared himself for the inevitable confrontation. He would protect you at all costs. The thought of you getting hurt, because of his carelessness, was unacceptable. He would eliminate these fools before they could even think to touch you again.

The woman holding you, pinned your arms behind your back in a rough and painful grip. Their hold was unyielding, causing your arms to bend in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. You couldn't help but let out a small, pained whimper, the sharpness of the maneuver making you wince.

Your eyes pinched shut, and you forced yourself to take deep, measured breaths. It was your attempt to steady yourself, to hold back the wave of panic and fear that was overtaking you.

Your chest heaved with the force of each breath, trying to regulate your racing heart. A small shiver ran through your body, the fear and helplessness of the situation gnawing at the edges of your mind. The pressure of the woman's grip on your arms made you want to squirm and struggle, but you steeled yourself against the natural inclination.

Robin, like a silent wraith, leaped into action. His katanas moved in a blur, swiping the gun away from the goons' grasps before they could even register the movement. His presence was both dangerous and deadly, every muscle tensed and coiled like a predator ready to pounce. His sharp, grey eyes fixated on the thugs, a silent warning in their depths.

A sharp gasp slipped past your lips as the cold metal of the gun abruptly lifted away from your head. The sound of it banging loudly against the gritty, dirtied concrete ground echoed through the air, the sudden absence releasing a tiny bit of the tension that had been coiling painfully in your chest.

You stayed still, barely breathing, your body locked in the woman's tight and cruel grasp. Her hold on you was unrelenting, an indication that any wrong move would result in snapped bones. You couldn't turn your head to see what was happening, fear and pain keeping you rooted in place.

The woman's grip on your arms tightened, a painful reminder of the danger of any movement. You were trapped, unable to see what was happening behind you. Every instinct screamed at you to fight, to struggle and get away, but the fear of severe injury made you hold yourself perfectly still. The only thing you could do was remain in this terrifying, vulnerable position.

Robin's mouth curled into a snarl, his anger flaring as he saw you trapped in the woman's grasp. Your small gasp of relief at the gun being removed from your face only fueled his rage. How dare these pathetic humans touch you, his sibling, his family, without any regard for your safety and wellbeing. The thought alone filled him with anger he had trouble controlling. He had failed you.

As Robin stood before the thugs, his katanas held at the ready, he locked his gaze with the woman holding you in her iron grip. His eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, a silent challenge in their depths.

Robin's gaze, burning with righteous anger, fixated on the woman who held you captive. The air around him crackled with a dangerous aura, his muscles coiled tensely as he held himself back from pouncing on the pitiful excuse for a human being in front of him.

The woman holding you in an iron grip was clearly an amateur, her sloppy and harsh moves betraying her lack of experience. She seemed to rely on brute strength, rather than skill, to overpower her victims.

Her careless and overly aggressive approach was a stark contrast to Robin's years of training and discipline. He took in every detail, every movement and expression, noting the flaws in her techniques. She was like a novice facing a seasoned warrior. It was downright pitiful.

To Robin, the woman's every move stank of amateurishness. Her clumsy and brute force tactics were as subtle as a bull in a china shop. It was clear that she had never received any formal combat training; relying solely on the ability to intimidate and overpower her victims. In comparison, Robin was a paragon of discipline, control, and skill. The difference in their approaches could not be more stark. She was insulting you for even thinking someone like her could ever be in your presence.

The woman's lack of finesse and skill made Robin's blood boil. She was like a pathetic child playing at being a thug, an insult to the name of criminals everywhere. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck taut with restrained anger. He could see her flaws from a mile away, her amateur tactics screaming for correction. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his mind racing with possible ways to take her down without harming you further.

Robin's intense gaze continued to pierce through the woman holding you. He was like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and taut, ready to pounce at the very next moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of revulsion as he observed her sloppy moves. This is the type of amateur who would get themselves killed in Gotham in the blink of an eye. His anger flared further as he saw how carelessly she was handling you, her fingers digging into your flesh in a painfully tight grip.

For a brief moment, he considered just knocking the woman unconscious and freeing you from her grip. But then, with a cruel and calculated grin, a different thought occurred to him. He wanted to teach her a lesson. Maybe if she was truly frightened, she might actually learn something.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, Robin tossed one of his throwing stars at the ground, the sharp and sudden movement drawing the woman's attention. Startled by the sound, she turned her head to look at the star, her grip on you loosening just a fraction.

Robin seized the opportunity, and in the blink of an eye, he moved behind her, his footsteps so silent that they made no sound.

The woman's eyes widened as she realized Robin's presence behind her, but before she could turn to face him, he had her by the throat, his hand encircling her airway in a firm grip.

As Robin observed your trembling form, your eyes still squeezed tightly closed, his heart clenched in his chest. He could see the fear and helplessness your body was radiating and it infuriated him. You looked like a terrified animal caught in a trap, desperately trying to hide from your captor. The thought of how scared you must be only served to fuel his obsession. You needed their protection.

Robin's grip on the woman's throat tightened as he drew her closer to him, his face inches from her ear. His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge as he snarled, "You dare lay a hand on MY family and think you'll get away with it? You're a pathetic excuse for a thug."

The ringing in your ears and the shortness of your breath is all you can focus on, having not heard the boy’s words. Luckily for him.

Seeing that you were still too scared to open your eyes or listen, Robin tightened his grip even further on the woman, his eyes narrowing as he leaned his head closer to her ear. "You thought you could get away with this? Pathetic."

As the woman began to struggle in his grip, her eyes widened as she realized the severity of the situation. Fear and panic filled her gaze, and her chest began to heave with labored breaths. Robin took a sadistic pleasure in seeing her fearful reaction. He smirked, his grip unwavering.

He was enjoying this. Teaching this low-life a lesson was like music to his ears. He wanted her to be terrified, to feel the same fear she had inflicted on you. You were his family. His.

As the woman gasped for air, her attempts to break free growing more frantic, Robin leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her ear. The smirk on his face only grew wider. "Not so strong now, are you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with mockery.

As the woman's grip on you suddenly loosened in panic, it caused you to lose your balance and fall unceremoniously onto your knees with a thump. The sudden movement startled you, freezing you in fright. Your limbs locked up in response to the sudden movement, leaving you vulnerable and exposed as you knelt on the dirtied ground.

Robin's heart stopped as he saw you fall to the ground with a thump. His eyes widened briefly, his grip on the woman loosening slightly in shock. He watched as you knelt on the ground, frozen in fear and vulnerability.

His protective instincts flared up, and he had to suppress the urge to immediately rush to your side. Instead, he forced himself to remain focused, keeping the woman pinned in his grip.

Robin's sharp gaze snapped from the woman to you as he heard the thud of you falling to your knees. Concern immediately replaced his previous satisfaction. He could see the terror freezing up your body, rendering you frozen and vulnerable.

He gritted his teeth, feeling a mixture of anger and worry. He needed to get you out of this situation, preferably without causing you further stress or harm. His grip on the woman tightened again, cutting off her panicked gasps as he held her at bay.

With a quick, sharp jerk, he slammed her against the wall, the force knocking the breath out of her lungs. "Stay still," he commanded, his voice harsh and authoritative.

He then turned his attention to you, quickly crossing the distance between you. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes flicking over your form, assessing for any signs of injury.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of moments ago. He reached out a hand, gently touching your shoulder as he tried to coax you out of your frozen state.

You looked up, your eyes wide with surprise and wonder, as you took in the sight of the young vigilante towering above you. Your throat closed up for a brief moment, your mind struggling to fully believe that it was indeed Robin, the Robin, standing before you.

You managed to force out a meek whisper, the word barely audible. "Robin...?"

In your current frightened and bewildered state, there are a million questions and thoughts running through your mind. In a normally clear state of mind, you would have jumped at the chance to ask the youngest vigilante for an interview. In this moment, however, the only thing you manage to let out is a hesitant whisper, his name. Your mind trying to piece together the reality of the situation.

Robin knelt down in front of you, watching as realisation flooded your eyes. He could almost see the thoughts spinning through your mind like a whirlwind. For a brief moment, he was thankful for your stunned silence. It gave him a chance to assess the situation without being bombarded by a thousand questions.

He watched you take in his presence, your gaze wide and filled with wonder and disbelief. The word 'Robin' escapes your lips in a barely audible whisper.

He nods slowly, acknowledging your tentative recognition, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

He could see the questions brimming behind your lips, but to his surprise, you remain silent. It seemed your fear had rendered you speechless, and for a moment, he found himself relieved. It gave him a few precious seconds to focus on the task at hand: getting you out of danger safely. He gave your shoulder a firm, gentle squeeze, his voice remaining hushed as to not startle you further.

"I'm here, you're safe." He tried to keep his tone calm.

Robin swiftly scooped you up, pulling you against his chest in an easy movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to pause, relishing the feeling of having you so close to him. His heart beat fast and loud in his chest, an undercurrent of fierce protectiveness and possessiveness rushing through him. The thugs already forgotten, as he now focused solely on getting you to safety.

As he quickly leaped from one roof to the next, never slowing his pace, he spoke, his voice low and even. "Where do you live?" He’s already running in the direction.

He kept a firm but gentle grip on you, making sure that you were held safe and secure in his arms as he ran. The wind whipped around you, cool and exhilarating, as Robin navigated the Gotham rooftops with practiced ease. He repeated his question, his tone now slightly more demanding, as he continued traversing through the city.

You tried your best to gather yourself, blinking against the cool night air buffeting your face as Robin held you against his chest. Your voice was soft and slightly shaky as you spoke, the wind attempting to carry your words away.

"Just... just around the corner.."

Robin nodded, accepting the information without question. His strides didn't slow as he continued moving, the muscles in his legs propelling him forward with trained speed.

The city lights flashed by as Robin swiftly carried you through the maze-like labyrinth of Gotham's rooftops. His strides were long and purposeful, his movements fluid and precise. His arms held you firmly, one hand tucked under your legs and the other looped around your back.

Despite the circumstances and the speed at which you were moving, he took great care not to jostle you any more than necessary. It was clear that you were in pain and scared, and he wanted to minimize any further distress.

“... thank you.”

As you murmured your thanks, Robin's heart clenched in his chest. The pure gratitude in your voice was a stark contrast to the vulnerability and fear he could feel in your trembling form. He wanted so badly to respond, to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he was willing to do to protect you, but he remained quiet. He had to stick to their plan. Right now, he was solely focused on getting you home, where you would be safe from harm. His arms wrap tighter around you. He gives a simple nod in response.

You lifted your hand slightly, carefully pointing in the direction of your apartment balcony. The gesture was small, but it was enough for Robin to understand your meaning.

Without a word, he altered his course, angling his body to head towards the balcony you had indicated. Each leap and bound over the city skyline brought him closer to your apartment, the destination in sight.

Despite his casual demeanor, Robin was fully aware of the path they were taking. Years of patrol and countless hours of study had etched the city's layout into his memory, a map constantly present in the recesses of his mind.

He could flawlessly navigate the maze of Gotham's buildings, his muscles and movements guided solely by pure instinct. Every twist and turn was memorized, a testament to his extensive knowledge and dedication.

As they approached your apartment, he adjusted his hold on you, preparing to make the final leap onto the balcony.

With a final powerful bound, Robin lands on the balcony gently, steadying you against his chest. He carefully lowers you to the ground, his hands lingering on your body for a moment longer than necessary, as if ensuring you were truly safe and sound.

He takes a moment to glance around the vicinity, his eyes scanning the area for any potential threats. The Gotham night is relatively quiet, the sounds of the city reduced to a hushed hum in the background.

Once satisfied that the area is clear, he turns his attention back to you. He takes a step back, giving you a moment of space. His eyes watch you closely, searching for any signs of distress or injury.

He lifts a hand, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is gentle, but his voice is firm. Emerald eyes searching your form. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Despite his mask concealing his face, the concern in his voice is palpable. He takes a step closer to you, his hands moving to your shoulders as he steadies you against him. His gaze remains fixed on you.

You gently shook your head, a small, reassuring grin playing at your lips. Despite your earlier fear, you were clearly feeling somewhat better. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through you, or the simple fact that you were safe now.

Robin noticed the shift in your expression, a slight furrow forming between his eyebrows as he looked down at you. He could feel the tension slowly draining out of your body.

Robin observed the small smile on your face, his eyes studying you closely. The brief moment of relief he felt at your reassurance was quickly replaced by a sense of caution. He could see the adrenaline still coursing through you, but he knew from experience that it was a temporary high. The fear would return sooner or later.

He nodded, accepting your answer but still feeling a small pang of unease. "Are you sure you’re okay?" he repeated, his hands still on your shoulders.

Your brows raise in slight disheveled amusement. This was the infamous arrogant vigilante? You call bull.

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Thank you.”

Robin's eyes narrow slightly at the amusement in your tone. Despite your gratitude, he can sense your slightly disbelieving and slightly amused. For a moment, he wonders if you are treating him like a kid playing dress-up.

He straightens up, his grip on your shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He cocks his head to the side, his voice a mix of annoyance and determination.

"What's so funny?" he asks, the slightest hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Despite the irritation in his voice, there's a hint of vulnerability. He's not used to being questioned, especially not by someone he feels responsible for. He wants to be taken seriously, to be seen as more than just a young boy playing at being a hero.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "I'm serious. You could’ve been seriously hurt," he says, his voice stern. He's not used to expressing his emotions openly, but the thought of you in danger is making his typically controlled facade start to crumble.

You bite your tongue, holding back the sarcastic remarks and jokes that usually come so easily to you. You were well aware of how close you had come to serious danger, and the severity of the situation.

Robin can see the restrained smirk, the flicker of a joke on your lips, and it irks him more than the actual sarcasm. He's used to dealing with sarcastic criminals and sarcastic bats, but the thought of you making light of your own safety is frustrating. He clenches his jaw, trying to keep his annoyance under control.

"This is no joke," he finally says, his voice firm. "What you did was stupid. Walking alone in Gotham at night."

Robin's eyes held a mixture of emotions, anger and frustration and worry and protectiveness. But beneath it all, he was most angry and frustrated with himself. He should have been there sooner, he should have been able to stop those thugs before they even got close to you. This event was only proving to him what he already knew - you were not safe in the city, not without someone to protect you. They needed to speed up with their plan before he goes insane.

He withdrew his hand from your cheek, the loss of his touch leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. He fidgeted with his utility belt, a nervous habit.

"I have to go." He murmured, his voice low and laced with a hint of reluctance. His eyes scanned over you one more time, mentally committing your features to memory. It was as if he were trying to memorize every detail, every curve and contour of your face.

"Be sure not to walk alone at night. Or ever." The last words came out as more of a command than a warning, a hint of desperation laced in his tone.

Before you could even think of a response or express your gratitude, Robin had already vanished into the night, leaving you standing alone on your balcony.

Despite the circumstances, a soft, almost wistful grin crept across your lips as you replayed the events of the night in your mind. Despite the danger and the near brush with violence, you couldn't shake the thrill of meeting the young vigilante, the Batman’s associate himself.

Even though you didn't get to ask all the questions you wanted, the encounter was still something exciting.

You silently crept into your room, taking care to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Jason who was probably asleep in his room down the hall. You shrugged off your bag and jacket, discarding them to the side before crawling into the safety and warmth of your bed. You bring your hand out to tap softly against the glass of your turtles enclosure as a silent good night, cuddling further under the blankets.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the sheets surrounding you, you let out a soft sigh, already feeling the exhaustion starting to pull at your eyelids. Unaware of the chaos that was brewing at Wayne Manor, nor the many sets of watchful eyes observing you through the carefully placed cameras that dotted the room.

The cameras strategically placed throughout your room recorded every subtle movement as you got yourself settled into bed. Every blink and every shift was captured in sharp, high-definition video, the images streaming directly to the computer screens at Wayne Manor.

In the depths of the batcave, the video feeds played on several large screens, each one displaying a different angle of your room.

Multiple figures looking over the room full of monitors, displaying your every breath, every toss and turn as you drifted off to sleep. Watching each and every twitch, each flutter of your eyelashes.

The silence in the batcave was heavy, only disrupted by the soft hum of the computer equipment and the occasional murmur between the group of figures huddled in front of the bank of monitors.

Each screen showed a different angle of your room, the camera feeds streaming smoothly, giving an intimate view of your every movement. Every breath, every twitch, was recorded, observed and analyzed by the watchful eyes monitoring you. Every inch of your room was on display, the cameras capturing even the tiniest detail.

Even in your sleep, you were still being watched.

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for reader, no mention of gender.

Does anyone have any ideas for the name of your pet turtle?

[ratcash-wasgud]

Tragicomedy

okay gang, hear me out. ik most ppl who follow me are here for bes but PLLLLSSSSS

this came to me in a dream and i feel like i would fail as prophet if i didn't deliver it

anyways, enjoy.

art major!ellie x reader vs rugby player!abby x reader.

a.n.:Okay, before we start, the reader will get a little specific (like in my other works, lmao). plus tw for homophobia.

Part 2 is done!!!

"Ellie Williams"

Ellie started at her own signature under a painting in the hall of the school. Her college had a small exhibition of the art major student's works, and she submitted a painting of a flower she saw in the nearby park, and the butterfly which is supposed to symbolize...well, you. When other people ask, it symbolizes love and freedom though, but it's wings are strangely the same colour as your eyes, and it's spots are the same as your hair.

She only chose this painting because she somehow hoped you'd come, compliment her painting, then she'll ask you out on a date to her favourite cafe, then boom! Marriage. Or that's Dina's plan, actually. Ellie knew it was stupid. You'd never like her. Why? Easy. Abby Anderson has her eyes on you as well, and who wouldn't chose the female rugby team's captain? Exactly.

Even if Abby is straight, Ellie sees the was she looks at you. You are the that cute girl who hangs around campus alone, reading a book, wearing headphones, or just casually taking pictures of flowers and bugs. Nobody could resist your cuteness, and Ellie feels like the whole thing is a personal attack towards her. She tried talking to you a couple times, and turns out you're also very friendly. She has a couple common interests with you, like comic books. Life was good for a couple days when she could just randomly bump into you (tottaly not on purpose), holding a comic you purposely talked about, then she could blow away almost two hours for you and her nerding out about said comic. But then?

Abby came in the picture. She suddenly started to appear next to you on multiple occasions, throwing her meaty arms around you, doing that stupid, cocky smirk of hers. And what do you do? You giggle at her stupid jokes.

What Ellie didn't know, on the other hand, is that Abby was nothing like how people precieved her as. Yeah, sure, she was a rugby player who was kind of a jock, but she wasn't cocky. If anything, she was more like a big puppy, who happened loved hamburgers and tackling people. It's not her fault it's fun. She also happened to like pretty girls.

Not the girls the rugby team would usually get associated with, the ones with short skirts, perfect hair or long, clack-y nails. She did like those things though, but she learned that she has a type.

A type for cute girls with a nose and eyes that wrinkle up when they smile, who paint cute shit on their nails, and the ones who still own, and name their stuffed animals. And surprise surprise, you fit that type perfectly.

Abby knew that too. That's why she got attached to your hip out of the blue. She found out about you through Mel, who was her roomate and your coworker at your partime job at this rundown diner.

But Abby knew she had to stay in her lane. She comes from a small town, full of old fashioned people, so she knows how little the chance is of you actually being into women. She never did anything risky or too touchy. Plus, she was kind of knew into this whole gay thing. She realized stuff kind of late. She has a disadvantage against all the cool gay women she say around campus, proudly wearing their pride pins, or holding hands in the halls.

She thinks if she did anything like that, she'd just get called a dyke by her teammates and her family. She never even did anything with a woman before. She knows how to do it, obviously she has internet, but still...just the thought of actually owning a strap kind of makes her nervous.

But Ellie knows what's up. She had a girlfriends before. She even owns toys just for the purpose of pleasing women. She's even out, so most people know about her lesbian intentions when she talks to a girl she finds attractive. But not withouth a price though. She did get called slurs before, and by Abby's circle too, so she has solid reasons to hate the whole friendgrounp. Even if Abby herself never said anything, she still stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows scrunched up. And now, she tries to cling to the one girl Ellie had a genuine crush on since highschool? That's not fair. It's targeted, even.

It has to a be a hatecrime or something.

"It's the library, not a gym, Anderson. You must be confused, get lost." Ellie says with a scowl as she puts her finger between the pages of a comic book she has been explaining to you.

It's the first time she had found you alone in weeks, and she just has to spawn herself into the situation. Of course.

"Oh, get fucked, Williams." Abby shoots her a glare before putting her hand on the table you two are sitting at, and looming behind you. "Sorry, I was rudely interrupted before I could...you know, say hi." She says to you with a corny smile.

Ellie can't help but roll her eyes.

"Hi to you too." You smile lightly, putting your own comic book into your lap. You're especially pretty today, Abby thinks. She wonders if it's because of someone.

"So...you know, I was wondering if you'd wanna...uhh..." Abby takes a deep breath as she rubs her arm, but doing as casually as she can. "Come with me to that cute lil' diner down the street. I actually have a cupon for free milkshakes."

Ellie purses her lips and glares.

"She works at a diner, dumbass, I don't think she wants to spend her free time in one too," She says, now the page of the comic is forgotten as she crosses her arms. "I'm sure she'd like a place like...the amusement park more. It just happens that I have tickets for the weekend." Boom. Ellie smirks internally.

"The amusement park?" You perk up, cute bambi eyes widening. You seemed to like that idea. "Yeah! We should go together." You smile and Ellie feels like a whole storm just blew a bunch of flowers into her face. It's lovely, really. Until, "Right, Abby?"

Huh? You meant...all three of you?

Abby looks just as shocked as Ellie, and does her best to act nonchalant. "Yeah, sure. But I won't carry you after you die on a rollercoaster." She snickers, shooting Ellie a siteating grin.

Both women knew they couldn't decline this stupid three-way date, since they couldn't actually invite you anywhere on their own. So, amusement park it was.

The weekend came, and to you, it was such a nice day. You didn't have friends ever since you started college, but now, you actually felt appritiated. Like you belong.

It started with you meeting Ellie at the diner, then Abby coming to pick both of you up with her truck. The day was spent with you convinving both of them for silly rides you wanted to try. The problem was, that there were usually 2 people fitting seats. You didn't want either of them to feel left out, so you made them sit together, and you sat before them. The whole day felt like a damn comedy.

"Look, churros!" You cheer as you spot a booth with one of your favourite snacks after not really eating anything that day. Ellie, almost throwing up after that last ride, grimaces at the sight, while Abby steps forward, already reaching for her wallet.

"Want me to buy you some?" She asks, standing beside you as she points at one of the flavors. Meanwhile, Ellie suddenly perks up, not wanting to get left behind. "I could get you a slushie to go along with it. Churros here are usually pretty dry." Abby rewards this attemt with a side-eye.

Then a pair of men, holding hands, also approach the booth, smiling to eachother and discussing what they should get. Abby glances their way, seeing their way of holding eachother's hands, and she reaches out slowly, her hand brushing against your's, just when a middle aged man walks by the booth, and sadly opens his mouth. "Fags nowadays. They're everywhere, damn it. There's kids here."

Abby suddenly freezes. Her hand imidiately back in her pocket, and she just stares at her wallet. She feels her feet grow roots into the ground, and suddenly she hears the same phrase in her father's voice. This is a random Saturday, the sun is shining, there are people in love, but it's still...

"Your breath is everywhere too dude. What a stench" Ellie's voice brings her back to reality, and her snaps at the auburn haired woman, fearlessly, glaring at the man.

She didn't know Williams could be...brave? Mmm, not the right word. Proud? Maybe.

Meanwhile, Ellie is fuming. This random ass dude tries to ruin her only chance she has with her crush by ruining the whole mood. She's not having that. She sees the two guys glance at her, and send a smile her way as she flips the middle aged bigot off one last time before he disappears.

She quickly jerks her face back to you, and what she sees it...Abby with tears shimmering in her eyes, and you standing befor her, cupping her face and stroking her arm. It's a horrible sight. Your soft hands don't belong on that burly surfice. Ellie feels like she's left behind.

Meanwhile Abby is panicking. It's over, you saw her cry, she must be the lamest person ever right now. She has embarrased herself before the first girl she has ever liked just because she's a coward, because even the hint of being judged that way scares her to death.

In the end, both women's worst fears somehow came true.

Ellie losing to Abby, while Abby losing to her fears. What a tragedy.

But you? To you, this day was the realest thing you have felt since college started. You have learned that the nerdy art student is fierce, and that the captain of the rugby team can cry. You are attached now, and there's no escape.

Meanwhile Ellie and Abby feel like sinking into the ground with broken hopes, they don't know that you will ask to hang out again pretty soon.

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Seven - Paper Bag

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here.

Previous Chapter.

The library was unusually empty. Normally there would be six or seven students sprinkled throughout the two-story building, but today, you and Abby were the only unlucky souls stuck in the library. 

The last time you had seen Abby, she was arguing with her boyfriend in the middle of traffic, tears running down her rosy cheeks and a string of curses leaving her mouth. She had successfully avoided everyone in your little friend group the entire week. That was until she remembered that she had tutoring. Now, Abby sits across from you with her free hand resting on her bouncing leg. 

Your forehead creases in concern. You had seen Abby do nervous ticks before but never to this extent. She was chewing her lip raw and if she bounced her leg any more then it was surely going to fall off. 

You two had been studying for a long time. Maybe it was time to pack up and head home but then you weighed the options in your head. This was something to keep Abby occupied but at the same time, It was also doing nothing for her racing mind. 

“Abby, are you okay?”

She looks up at you, almost as if you had asked her to kill the President of the United States. “What do you think?” she snapped in a tone that made your heart feel like a dozen knives were stabbing it. 

You can tell immediately that she’s sorry by the way her nostrils flare and she stares at you with wide eyes. She’s taken aback by her tone just as much as you are. 

“Sorry,” she huffs. “It’s just that everybody has been asking me that stupid question. I don’t know how I feel right now.”

The librarian narrows her drooping eyes at the two of you and makes her way over. Without the front desk blocking the view of her lover half, the librarian is hilariously short. She saunters over to your table and places her hands on her hip. She speaks in a high-pitched voice that resembles a dolphin.

“I have had to shush you ladies over three times. I think it’s best if you two leave and continue your shouting else where.”

You pack up your things as fast as you can and head for the door. The cool autumn breeze greets you as you exit through the back door of the library. Mountains of multi-colored leaves block the sidewalk as you walk.

Your bike is still missing, as well as the posters that you put up all around town. People have been tearing down your 'missing bike' posters in droves. Someone must like your bike to keep it this long. So, you walk down the sidewalk with your perfectly functioning legs, kicking rocks and anything that comes in your way. 

Then, as you walk, your mind drifts off to Abby. Despite everything she seems to be taking it pretty well. If this were you, you would break up with Owen and never show up to school ever again. But this isn’t up to you. This is between Owen, Abby, and Mel. 

There’s a certain look in Abby’s eyes that you’re familiar with. The look in her eyes that says “I’m not giving up on this.” She wore it during your first tutoring session and continues to wear it. You just know that deep down, she’s conflicted. On one hand, Owen cheated on her and got that person pregnant. On the other, they’ve been dating for so long and she isn’t ready to get rid of that. 

All you want to do is help her but she isn’t letting anyone in. She can’t go through this alone or else she might do or say something she’ll regret. 

Like every night, you make it home to a quiet house. You drop your backpack by the front door and drag yourself to the couch. You flop facedown and groan as your joints rejoice in being able to rest. You’re too lazy to reach for the remote on the coffee table so you lay down on the couch, basking in the essence of being home alone. 

You’re awoken by the doorbell ringing a few hours later. You must have fallen asleep. You get up from the couch, drag your feet to the door, and open it without a care. You should have looked through the peephole first to make sure there weren’t ten burglars on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you didn’t. Abby stands there with a blank expression and two fast food bags. You step aside, letting her in. 

“Can you do me a favor?” She asks, setting down the bags on the dining room table. “Can we talk about anything but Owen tonight? I might throw up if I think about him any more.

You put your hand on her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch this time. 

"It would be my honor.”

You take her hand and drag her upstairs to your room. A night like this calls for something less formal than your ten thousand dollar dining room table. 

Her skin is soft in a way that it shouldn’t. Years of softball should have roughened her up a bit, but as you grasp her hand, your skin nearly jumps at the softness. 

This is the first time someone who isn’t you is in your room. You aren’t a messy person but your room wouldn’t reflect that. You quickly throw the mountains of clothes on the floor into your closet and quickly throw some trash away while Abby just stares at you. 

You are the only person Abby trusts enough with this. Yes, Ellie’s her best friend but Ellie’s with Dina. If Abby tells Ellie, Ellie will tell Dina. Abby loves Dina but she has a problem with keeping secrets and right now Abby needs someone who’ll just keep her company rather than try to fix this situation. In reality, there’s no way to “fix this.” This isn’t some softball problem, this is life and Abby isn’t so good at this game. 

“You can come in now!” 

Abby opens the door slowly and smiles. This room is unapologetically you. With stuffed animals lining your bed and posters of your favorite artists and bands covering your walls. Your room makes Abby’s look minimalistic. 

Abby sees the window. The beautiful window where she first saw you all those weeks ago. It feels like that Abby is lost. She’s lived a million lives since then. 

Abby puts the bags of fast food on your desk and thanks you for doing this. She would have been more than fine with eating in silence at the dining table or chatting on the couch while watching a movie, but this feels a lot better. It makes her feel as if she was a normal girl hanging out with her friend after a hard day at school. It almost makes her forget that her boyfriend cheated on her and got a girl pregnant. 

You pat the spot next to you on your bed and Abby joins you. It’s quiet for a moment, the two of you just basking in each other's presence. Abby’s the first one to say anything. 

“She’s keeping it.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about it?”

Abby sighs and puts her head on your shoulder. Her hair falls in soft golden waves and you have the urge to pet her head. Your fingers itch to feel her hair under your skin. To make her feel better, even if it’s just for a moment.

“I know. I just need to talk about it with someone. Someone I trust.”

Someone I trust. Those three words ring inside of your head. Abby trust you out of all people. You’ve only known each other for a few weeks and it already feels like you’ve known each other for a lifetime. You’ve never had a connection like this. Not even with your childhood friends back in California. 

She continues, “I know there’s nothing I can do to change her mind. Mel’s liked Owen for ages and she’s hated me for even longer. Knowing Owen, he’ll choose her and he’ll leave me. That’s how his family is. They’re very traditional and they’ll make him marry Mel. His entire life is fucked up just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.” 

You sit there and listen to Abby rant, your fingers digging into the skin of your palm. You’ve never liked Owen but hearing Abby talk like this makes you despise him. 

“Abby, I’ll be completely honest with you, I never liked Owen but I tolerated him for you. At this point, there’s nothing you can do besides making sure that you’re okay. You are the innocent party in all of this. You can do whatever you want.” 

You cannot stress this enough. Abby’s been so worried about what Mel’s going to do or how fucked up Owen’s life is going to get that she hasn’t been putting herself first. 

“Right now, all I want to do is eat good food with a good girl,” Abby cringes slightly when she says that. She shakes her head, retracting her statement, “Sorry, that was…weird.” 

You let out a dry laugh and roll your eyes. “It’s fine. Let’s eat!” 

Abby crawls to the edge of your bed and snatches the bags of food from your desk. She flops down back next to you and hands you your bag of greasy food. The two of you eat while you talk about anything other than Owen and Mel. 

As the night goes on, you feel like you’ve somehow gotten closer to Abby than anyone at Lakeview. Dina and Jesse were your first friends but Abby trusts you with anything. That’s something you’ll never get over. 

Abby leaves around twelve in the morning. You told her that it was too late to drive and that she could spend the night with you but she just shook her head and thanked you for the night. As you watched Abby pull out of your driveway, you noticed something glimmering in the distance. The familiar silvery handles of your bike sit on the bushes of your front yard. 

“My bike!” 

Abby pulls off, smiling at your reaction. She had an inkling that Owen paid someone to steal your bike after the party and that feeling was true. Some poor football freshman kept the bike at his house for the past few weeks and it took some coercion to finally get it out of Owen. 

You’ve helped Abby in so many ways that you don’t know. Getting your bike back is a small gift compared to all the big ones you’ve given her.

Next Chapter.

Tag list: @soupycloud

Thanks for reading!

[jeridandridge]

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” “No…? What are you talking about?” “Nothing. Nothing.”

Would you mind a melissa x reader? But like fluffy if you're feeling it? Or angst to fluff? Lol

Drunk Confessions

“Girl just do it. It’s better than sittin around here moping all the time.”

You groan bringing your head down to rest on the cool kitchen table. Being drunk didn’t happen too often for you, but when it did you always made sure you had friends around. Tonight, Ava was the one that brought over drinks and junk food to drown your sorrows in.

Melissa accepted a date with Gary the vending machine guy the day before and you weren’t handling it well at all. Having a crush, no, being in love with the woman but too afraid to say anything was the best yet excruciating experience of your life.

“You’re right. You’re right!” You lift your head hitting the table with your hand. “Where’s my-phone?” You ask through a hiccup.

Ava rolls her eyes pointing to the device right in front of you.

“Oh.” You giggle picking it up.

“This is gonna be messy,” Ava smiles sitting back with her frosted glass.

Blinking a couple times at the bright screen you tap away until you find Melissa’s contact, a silly picture of you two from the zoo field trip as her icon. Bringing the phone to your ear it rings and rings, eventually giving you a beep for the voicemail.

“Hey,Mel. It’s late I didn’t realize it.” You giggle. “I was sitting here drinking- I mean thinking and I wanted to say I’m happy for you. If you’re happy with vending machine guy that’s great and I’ll swallow my feelings for you. It’s gonna suck, but I’ll do it just because it’s you and I love you. I’m in love with you,” You sigh, “But if he ever hurts you, well I got a guy too. I’m word vomiting now. If this is weird we can pretend it never happened. Bye.”

You set the phone down bringing a hand over to cover your mouth. “I can’t believe i did that!” You laugh.

Ava looks at you shocked, mouth gaping. “Girl you did that.”

“I did that!” You laugh. Feeling giddy and excited, hours later you forget what you’ve done. After Ava gets an Uber home you clean up as best you can while drunk, passing out on the couch with a bag of pretzels.

The sound of banging on your apartment door shocks you awake, the sound making the throbbing in your head worse. “I’m coming I’m coming.” You groan grabbing your sunglasses on the way to the door. It was just too bright. Unlocking the heavy door you look up to see Melissa, completely confused.

“Hey, Mel. What’s up?”

“Don’t ‘Hey Mel’ me, y/n. What the hell is this?!” She barrels in holding her phone out.

“What’s going on?” You ask closing the door, confused until you see her screen. wanting to melt away into the air when you see the voicemail you drop your head slowly remembering what you did. “Shit.”

“You can’t tell me you’re in love with me just because you’re jealous or have some crush!” She tells you, moving her hands around like she always does.

“Mel, I was drunk. This doesn’t need to be a thing.” Shaking your head.

“That’s what you said in the message!” She lets out hitting play.

When you hear your own voice you cringe, it could be a lot worse, but it was still bad. Taking your sunglasses off you toss them on the kitchen counter bringing your fingers to the bridge of your nose, trying to process the message you’re hearing.

Melissa reaches out tipping your chin up to meet her eyes. When you do you could cry right there. She was so beautiful.

“You could at least look at me after admitting something like that in a voicemail of all things.” Her voice was so soft, a voice not many people got to hear from her especially at work.

“I’m sorry, Mel. Really I am.”

The redhead looks at you biting her lip, her hand gently moving to your cheek. “Ya know I wouldn’t have said yes to Gary if I knew you felt the same way.”

“Wait,” you shake your head, “felt the same way? Meaning you like me back?” You try to work it out taking the new information in.

Melissa smiles at you, a real, bright smile as she strokes your cheek. “Yeah dummy, I thought it was obvious.”

“No!” You laugh reaching out to pull her flush against you. “I thought all my pining was a lost cause after Gary asked you out.”

Giving you a soft smile Melissa wraps her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with your hair.

“He’s not you, hon.”

Looking into her eyes you see nothing but pure love and happiness.

“I’d kiss you but I really need to brush my teeth.”

Melissa laughs gently pulling away playfully swatting your butt.

“Go on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

[lady-bess]

Hiii!!! I just wanted to quickly hop into your asks to say that I totally binged your Jack Daniels/Agent Whisky (not anymore ig, lol) series, "Fallout" and holy shit, it's so SO GOOD.

I really liked those first chapters of sort of world building, trying to establish where we were in comparison to canon. I loved the way you wrote Ginger, there are very few moments of her and Whisky interacting in the film, and you took that and expanded it a billion times more. There are hints of a loving relationship between them in the movie, but you made it so evident, and it absolutely broke my heart how worried and involved she was in getting Jack back.

Your Tequila is another character that I love immensely, he's so funny and his southern charm jumps out of the words. I cannot stress enough how good of a job you've done in taking an already existing world and adapting it into this wonderful story that you've made. Every choice, every OC fits perfectly in the crazy world that is that of Kingsman, and it is amazing to witness as a reader. (#1 Eve fan, right here)

Don't even get me started on Jack. Dude. Seriously. I love him. You destroyed him and build him back up again, without losing his essence. It's been so interesting to see him change and evolve throughout the story. Mimosa (or Whisky, now ig) is absolutely incredible too, she's funny and strong and smart, but also stubborn and hot headed, that's what makes her so cool to read, and what makes her fit with our wonderful Jack (tho tbh that also has the potential to blow things up).

Sorry if this got too long or if it makes no sense, there are just a lot of thoughts in my head rn and needed to scream into your ask box!!!!!

Anyway, tl;dr I've loved your fic so so much and I cannot wait to see where it goes next 🫶🏼🫶🏼.

Oh, and PD: I will reblog every chapter with my thoughts soon enough.

I hope you have the most wonderful day!! ���💗

My dear, sweet, reader...🥰

It's been a couple of weeks since you sent this beautiful ask in, and I won't lie it's taken me a while to put into words just how touched I've been by your words. I won't lie, it made me tear up a little bit the first time I read it! 💖

So first of all, THANK YOU for not only supporting this series, but for taking the time to leave such wonderful feedback ✨ I've seen your reblogs too, and it makes me smile immensely to watch a reader piece things together and ask questions as a plot unfolds!

Secondly, I am SO glad that you are enjoying Fallout! It's been a little brain worm of mine since September 2023 and it took a long time for me to get pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, I guess...), BUT I am so glad I did and that it's a story people resonate with 🥳

I'm so touched that you think I've done justice by this existing world. It is through hours of watching Kingsman that I had hoped I nailed it, haha! But I am so glad that this comes across. I've always said I write for myself, and while this is true it is so heartwarming when someone takes time out their day to say "hey, you. I see what you wrote. Good job!". ❤

And lastly, the OCs! I'm glad you're loving them, but I can't take all the credit for Eve - she has been generously donated by my dear friend @avastrasposts! I fell in love with her Eve, and we joked saying that her and my reader would get along well, especially in a Kingsman universe. So, she's hopped across into this fic for now 🤭💖 Thanks again Mel for letting me nab her!

It's been a while since my last chapter, but I'm hoping to have something out soon - the goal is a couple more chapters before the New Year, so stay tuned for updates!

Thank you again for leaving such wonderful comments, which have had me smiling any time I remembered them 💕

Much love,

Bess xxx

[starbeltconstellation]

omg hiiiiii! i’ve been loving your fic since forever, and melanie is one of my favorite characters. i’ve always been curious about where you got the inspiration for her. every time i re-read the fic, i find something new that makes me fall in love with her even more.

i really appreciate how you don’t make her a mary sue, which is something i’ve sadly come across a lot in this fandom. her flaws feel very human, and she behaves in a way that most of us would. yet, you write her in a way that she doesn’t seem like just another fragile character. she has depth and strength that make her stand out. 💕💕💕

Hello! 😊💕❤️👋

Ahhhh, thank you so very much for the ask, dear anon! 😭❤️❤️❤️🥹 It’s soooo sweet. I always have wished more readers would hop on over to leave their thoughts. Maybe it would give me a little bit more of that sweet dopamine motivation. 😩😂 Lol.

As always when I hear this, I’m SOOOO happy that you love Melanie so much. 😭💕😁 It literally means the WORLD to me that so many people relate to a character I’ve written. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and then I think: “huh, maybe my writing isn’t half bad. 😌” 😂

It’s sooo cool to know you reread my fic often! 😭💕💕❤️❤️💕❤️ I’d love to read a comment whenever you do, just so I can go “agshsvhwbshvs!!! 😭” as a thank you for your kindness to read my little old work. Haha.

I’ll put the rest of my answer under a read more:

I’m so happy Mel doesn’t come across as a Mary Sue! ❤️ That was one of my worst fears, so it was REALLY important to me to try and flesh her out and give her an arc separate from Anakin. And the biggest part of that is The Shopkeeper, because it means Melanie has her OWN antagonist to deal with, just as Palpatine is Anakin’s antagonist. This was important because—just as I didn’t want Anakin to take away from MELANIE’S character arc—I in turn also didn’t want Melanie to take away from ANAKIN’S character arc. He IS still The Chosen One, after all.

That fact is really important, as Mel kind of brings up if you’ve read my latest chapter. 👀 Because it’s SO important to acknowledge how important Anakin is to the narrative and in the fate of the galaxy—specifically BECAUSE that gives him agency in his choices. Yes, there are factors such as his horrible past as a slave which fucks up his mind, but still: at the end of the day, Anakin wasn’t mind controlled. HE made those choices, and the galaxy all suffered for years because of it—because he was too selfish to change. Until Luke came along, that is. And while it’s a bittersweet feeling to say you can always change your mind, I WILL be exploring some in this fic how Anakin’s choice at the end of ROTJ is basically… selfless/selfish all at once. 😭🫣😬 (the Anakin stans gonna get me for this one. Lol. 😂).

Basically, his choice to save Luke is selfless, because he saves Luke knowing that he’ll die doing it, and won’t be around to spend time with his son. He has no clue Obi-Wan is gonna hop in last minute and speed run teaching Anakin how to become a Force ghost in the final seconds before eternal nothingness. And yet—at the same TIME—the action is selfish, specifically BECAUSE Anakin would ONLY do this for Luke. His SON. His BLOOD. But would he do it for anyone else? Like—idk—Han Solo? 😭🤷‍♀️ HELL no.

And honestly… I fr don’t know if he’d do it for Leia either. 😬🥶🫣 Low key, I truly think half the reason Luke got through to Anakin was through his sheer blind faith/loyalty in him that his father would turn it around at the last moment (and hey! He WAS right. 🤷‍♀️). But LEIA wasn’t sunshine incarnate like Luke. Leia HATED Anakin as Darth Vader. Anakin also TORTURED Leia canonically and also held her back while Tarkin blew up her planet and basically shrugged his shoulders like—“what can ya do, ya know? 🤷‍♀️🤪🤪”, so I’m FAIRLY certain Leia wouldn’t be begging Anakin to change/have such blind faith in him like Luke did. So—switch it around where Leia is the one being killed with lightning—and SHE doesn’t call out for her father. Because SHE truly doesn’t BELIEVE he can change like Luke could.

Can you TRULY see Anakin still making the same choice he did with Luke in ROTJ? 😬 Because, honestly? I can’t. 🥶🤷‍♀️

But anyway! 😂 This is becoming a little bit of a meta post, so I’ll try to move things back to your original ask.

But yes, it was SO important to me that Melanie had a realistic response to being in the SW universe, because with all the fics I’ve read—NONE of the OC’s actually react in a realistic manner. 😭🤦‍♀️ And so it was important for me to show her disbelief at first, INCLUDING her fear of Anakin. Because yessss, yessss, I know Anakin is fandoms little serial killer blorbo 🙄 (and I respect that! He’s mine too. 😏💓), but Anakin also isn’t REAL to the fans, and can be written any way they want. But for MELANIE, Anakin is now a flesh and blood person who can make his own decisions now… and considering his decisions end up being VERY bad… I do think her terror of him makes sense. 😭🤷‍♀️😂❤️

And it was REALLY important to me that Mel wasn’t just connected to the SW universe through Anakin. SO many OC’s are written without an arc because the whole fic is just about the romance, but when you do that—the OC becomes flat! Ya know? 🤷‍♀️😭 So it was important to me Mel gained other friends in the SW universe, like Ahsoka and the clones and even Yoda and Todo. All of this relates with Mel’s choice with The Shopkeeper 👀 (that I won’t spoil for any new readers who come across this post), because it means that Melanie has grown to care about the people in the SW universe, including what happens to them in the end. 💔😖

And I’m so glad you see the depth and strength to her! 😭❤️💕💕💕 That means a lot. It was certainly a struggle at first, because I obviously wanted her to start out weak and grow stronger and more confident as time passes on—but at the same time—I wanted to show that she has a backbone and a strong moral foundation; ie; she’s can’t turn her back on people she KNOWS she has the power to help (an interesting comparison to Anakin, isn’t it? 👀👀).

As for my inspiration for Melanie? Well, I think I’ve mentioned this before to some of my online friends, but when I first started the process of outlining this story, I just had the thought of—“If I landed in the SW universe, and met Anakin (AKA: Darth fucking Vader 🥶), how would I REALISTICALLY react?”

And ta da! 😁✨💕❤️ There you have it. That’s how Melanie Bains was born. Hehe.

I feel like that’s why so many people love her and relate to her—I first based a lot of Melanie’s reactions on myself and how I thought I’d act in the SW universe—but it honestly makes a lot of sense that everyone else relates to her so much, because Melanie IS basically a stand in for every fan in the SW universe (at least, the general audience fans 😂). When she curses in her head or grumbles at the clones’s antics or cannot shoot a blaster shot in a straight line (at least at first) to save her LIFE—the audience laughs and thinks, “Pfffft, that’s SO me. 😌✨😂”

And I think that’s what makes Melanie’s character so appealing. 😊❤️💕 And I’m VERY excited to show you all her journey on becoming tougher as time in the Clone Wars continues on. 😁❤️

Thank you so very much for the ask, dear anon! 🥺❤️ It truly makes my day. Hehe. 😊❤️✨💕

-

To any new readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

Tags:

@ensomniaa

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@readersunite

@shoniwake

[doctorho]

Neon lights pt. 2

hi guys!!! here's a little gift for you on this fine evening✨✨✨

i hope you like it <3

Viktor x gender neutral reader, 3k words, slightly nsfw

Summary: the quiz ends, but the night continues.

tags: @writingmysanity

The rest of the night goes like this:

You sit in his lap. 

You try not to think about it too much.

It's the only thing you can think about.

How close he was. What he'd said. What he felt like. How his hand on your hip held you close, the pressure of it burning through your thin clothes. 

And what would happen after the quiz was over. 

You didn’t know; you had no idea how they usually ended these nights when they were out. Did they just leave? Did they stay to drink and hang out? Did they go somewhere else?

You don’t know. 

You hope, deep in your bones, that the night would end up with some version of you and him being alone, but you don’t know. For all you knew he could just get up and go home as soon as they'd asked the last question, and it’s not like you could stop him. 

He answers questions, remarkably calm and collected, and occasionally his thumb traces a small circle on the side of your hip. Sometimes he says something so close to your ear that it makes you shiver.

The night ticks by, and all the thoughts and feelings you’re trying to ignore trickle down your spine. It’s impossible to ignore, the waiting. The anticipation. The wanting.

 You barely concentrate on the quiz, and as soon as it's over, you straighten your posture, waiting to see what the rest of them would do. Out of courtesy for Viktor, you've moved slightly further away from him, trying to be as non-distracting as possible – even if being a distraction to him is tremendously entertaining – and he leans back with a long, deep sigh. 

"Ready to get out of here?" Jayce asks, turning to look at him.

Viktor is silent for just a beat. He swallows, and licks his lips before answering. 

"Very much so."

Mel stretches, long and languid, like a cat, and then she stands up. "I'm ready to get out of this musty air." She says, running her hand over her hair lightly. 

You follow her lead and stand up too, hoping to make the whole situation as natural as possible. Like this was a totally normal, casual situation. 

Jayce stretches, too, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. 

For this, Mel gently nudges his leg. "And you're ready to go to sleep, apparently." She notes, and then turns to look at you. "He got up before five am today. Five. "

You lift your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly. "Why?" 

"Because he is insane," Viktor answers, earning a smile from you and a poor attempt at a lazy swat in his direction from Jayce. 

"We should go before the entrance gets crowded." Mel changes the subject, and this gets Jayce to sigh, open his eyes, and get up, taking her hand. 

Viktor grabs his cane and stands up too, very pointedly avoiding your eyes. You try not to read anything into that, but it still makes something in your soul sink a little bit. In the dark room, it doesn’t sting as much, but still.

You weave through people, your anxiety slowly creeping up your spine and growing heavier by the second. You don’t know what’s going on, you don’t know what’s going to happen, what could happen, but you can feel it slipping away from you; this fragile new something. This possibility. This warmth.  

You have to talk to him.

You have to get him alone, and you have to talk to him. 

Each step towards the exit has something in your lungs feeling heavier. You couldn’t predict what he would do when you got out, but you hoped it would be something other than ‘leave immediately’. 

When you get out, the cool fresh air hits you like a very pleasant wave. The night is dark and the city is alive; breathing, pulsating with music and people and blinking lights. It’s been raining, and the wet asphalt reflects all the neon lights back at you. 

It’s beautiful, in its own way. 

Shop signs and ads and decorations make everything around you glow, adding something you never see in daylight; all this dark. All these colors, breaking through. 

Viktor is bathed in golden light, soft and sparkling, and you forget to think for a moment. When he turns, the light catches his hair and the contours of his face, and he is so beautiful it almost hurts. 

Mel and Jayce break off almost immediately, both waving at you – Jayce yawning and Mel giving you a very pointed look – and this leaves you and Viktor standing outside the entrance alone, surrounded by a slow steady stream of people and a strange silence. 

He still doesn’t look at you. Just bows his head slightly, hiding in the shadows.

And you don’t know what to do. 

Usually, when you see him, the parameters of what’s happening are very, very clear. It’s always at school, or in the library, the lab, somewhere where you know what’s going on. You do your work, you help each other, you complain about the issues with equipment and materials and teaching, you get coffee sometimes. Until now, you’ve always just navigated situations where it’s clear that you’re friends. 

And now it’s not anymore. 

This is uncharted waters, and you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he seems to be deep inside his head somewhere. Somewhere you can’t reach. Not from where you were standing.

When he starts walking away from the bar, you follow, still unsure of what to do but thankful that he was going in the right direction. That way it didn’t feel as weird. But the way he was avoiding your eyes, and hiding in this newfound silence, it was obvious that something was wrong, and you hate it . 

As soon as you say his name to ask what it is, he speaks up too, at the exact same time.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He says, still not meeting your eyes. “We can pretend nothing ever happened.”

You blink in surprise, almost stopping at your tracks, and just stare at him. 

"Viktor," You repeat slowly, "the only reason I was uncomfortable was that we were in public and not alone." Your voice feels thin and weaker than you’d like, but you have to try. You have to get this across. 

You take a breath, “I don’t want to pretend nothing happened.” 

At this, he does stop. He stops, and turns to stare back at you. 

You both just stand there for a moment, in a random street corner, staring at each other, surrounded by silence and muted lights. 

"Do you think I would have stayed if I didn’t want to be there?" You continue.

There, in the bar.

There, with them.

There, in his lap.

He just looks at you, studying something you couldn’t see. 

"Societal pressure can have a very strong influence." He says, like it’s a fact. It probably is, in general – it just didn’t apply to your earlier actions.

The tone of his voice is level, reasonable, and a little bit detached. 

Like he's staying at an arm's reach, testing a hypothesis. Testing you.

"Yeah," You agree, casually, "but I still don’t do things I don’t want to do."

He looks at you for a moment, quiet. Like he's trying to decipher something. You could practically see the gears turning inside his head. 

You don’t know what he's thinking. But you can sense the unsure confusion, the blanks he's trying to fill in.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” You lick your lips and swallow around your nerves, "on the contrary." Then, you sigh a bit. “Viktor, you didn’t do anything wrong. I liked being close to you.”

He furrows his eyes slightly, like he’s thinking it through. 

“And this isn’t–” He says, tilting his head, “just a situation of…ease of circumstance?” Again, he sounds factual, calm. He's dissecting the situation, turning it around in his mind.

Now it’s your turn to be confused. 

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs softly with one shoulder. “I was there,” He explains, like it’s a perfectly reasonable argument, like this is what he expects to be the explanation, “it was convenient. Your friends ditched you, so maybe you were lonely. It makes sense.” 

You just look at him for a moment, trying to follow this explanation. You could see how he would think that, sure, but it wasn’t right. 

He takes a breath and looks away again. “I would understand if it’s just superficial. It’s fine if that’s the case. I don’t expect anything from you.”

He sounds like he’s already accepted it. That you couldn’t possibly want anything more. 

You take a deep breath. 

"Viktor," You say again, trying to silence your own self doubt and jumping straight into those uncharted waters, "I like you."

He blinks. 

You take a breath.

"I like you," you repeat, "and no, it’s not superficial. I mean, yes, you’re hot, but it’s not just about that. I like you because you’re kind, and funny, and smart, and nice to be around, and you try your best to help people even when you don’t need to, and you're so talented it’s amazing, and you get me and–”

He smiles a little, and the rest of the sentence fades away.

“...and I’m rambling.” You continue with a small sigh. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“I know!” You answer, “but you weren’t saying anything!” 

His smile falls, and he blinks. “Oh.” He says, like he genuinely just now realized it. “Well, I, uh, like you too. In case that wasn’t…obvious.”

He’s blushing again, and somehow, it warms you too.

You exhale, slow and deep, and meet his eyes again. “So what now?”

It’s a stupid question, you know. But with how the conversation was going, you weren’t capable of anything super smart right now. 

“I want a coffee.” He says, and, to his credit, this shocks you out of any residual anxiety that was still clinging to your spine, any residual awkwardness of the earlier situation. Any doubt that things were going to be weird between you forever.

“Been craving one the whole night.” He adds, sighing a bit and nodding towards a nearby drink cart, where the vendor was still out, no doubt precisely to serve people leaving the bars.

You smile, and fall in step besides him as he starts towards it. 

“Are you sure those things you drink qualify as coffee?” You ask, grinning through the words, knowing he was going to take the bait. 

“There’s three shots of espresso in it,” He defends, sounding a bit offended on the drink’s behalf, “how is that not coffee?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s like, 80% everything else.”

He exhales a hum as he walks up to the cart to get his drink. “I’m pretty sure that’s how most drinks work.” 

“Yeah, except yours is mainly whipped cream and caramel.” 

“And it tastes very good.” 

You smile, and lean to the cart as he gets his drink, warm and steaming, in a big takeaway cup. You can smell the caramel and spices in it from where you’re standing – sweet caramel and cinnamon, and something else that you don’t recognize. 

He moves away from the cart, stepping into a nearby shop corner to put away his money. There’s no-one there, and the corner is dim, quiet, carved away from the main street. The only light there is some runoff lighting from places down the street, bright neon signs in blues, pinks and purples reflecting off the windows and wet pavement and filtering through the air. 

He inhales deeply, smiles a little, and takes the first sip of his fluffy light brown drink. 

It leaves a strip of whipped cream on his upper lip. 

Deciding not to think about it too much, you reach up and sweep off the whipped cream with your thumb, bringing it to your own lips next, licking it clean. Whipped cream with a bit of caramel and coffee on it – and his baited breath.

He stares, and blushes, and you enjoy it thoroughly. It feels like time slows down, with the way he's looking at you. Like you’re the only thing there.

You smile. “You’re right,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you can, licking your lips, “it’s good.”

He holds your gaze, and takes a deep, slightly uneven breath. 

“You’re just going to do that without warning?” He asks, sounding genuinely a little surprised and a bit breathless. Which is a something that you’re going to treasure.

“Would you have preferred it if I’d kissed it away?” You ask, lifting one eyebrow and leaning a little closer, studying his reaction. 

More blush, another uneven breath, and slightly dilated pupils. 

Good. 

Time stands still for a moment again, as you just look at each other. 

And then he takes another sip. 

Recreating the scenario.

You raise your eyebrows slightly. It’s a challenge – and you’re going to take it. 

You lean closer slowly, and wrap your fingers gently around his coffee cup, nudging it out of the way, out from between your bodies. And then you kiss him.

Pressing your lips to the whipped cream first, you can feel the shaky exhale he lets out – and then when you kiss him properly, you can taste it. Caramel and coffee and cream, and him, and it doesn’t take long for him to inch closer and deepen the kiss. 

He makes a small sound somewhere at the back of his throat, and you can’t think. All there is is him, his lips moving on yours, soft and strong, his breaths mixing with yours, his body pressing against yours, and it’s him, it’s Viktor, and it’s so, so much more than you ever could have imagined. You run your hand up his chest, and the sound he makes in response makes you shiver – something caught between a whine and a growl – and you want to hear more of it. 

You’re storing every second of this to permanent memory, you’re drinking all of it in, you’re soaking in every point of contact and every small sound he makes. Your hand travels up to his hair, running through it, and his breathing falters.

Your world narrows down to this and only this; this moment, this small hideaway bathed in neon lights, this warm glowing lightness in your chest. His lips on yours.

He tastes like the drink, sweet and warm and dizzying, and when he moves from your lips to the side of your throat you feel like you melt. It’s a perfect, delicious pressure, his lips and tongue tracing over your skin, his teeth lightly grazing at your pulse point, and before you realize it you’re letting out a breathless, quiet moan. It would be embarrassing, probably, if his reaction wasn’t so good in return; he presses closer, and makes a sound you more so feel than hear, a quiet low growl that reverberates on your skin. It ends with an exhale, and a small quiet word that might be a curse, you’re not sure. Either way, it’s perfect, and makes heavy desire drip down your spine and pool at the bottom of your stomach. 

It’s sweet and heavy and perfect, and you want more of it.

“I wish I could touch you.” He breathes, words brushing against your skin, “but unfortunately my hands are full.” 

He says it casually, but this, too, is more than it sounds like; it’s a gentle offer to take the lead. He’s holding out the option to either diffuse the situation – or make something more of it. 

It’s up to you.

You sigh a little, and shift away enough to glance down; one hand holding the coffee, one hand gripping his cane.

“Pity.” you answer, “Think we could fix that?” 

He smiles, a little, and meets your eyes again briefly before looking somewhere past your shoulder. Then, he hums a little, thoughtfully. “I don’t live that far from here.”

You smile, and lick your lips.

This is an offer, too; one that you’re going to take. 

You hum through your smile, and take the coffee from his hand gently. He lets you take it, and doesn’t say anything when you bring it to your own lips, taking a slow sip.

“Good.”

Next (i lied this has more than two parts now)

[berryvalentine]

I'm humbly requesting something for our melon man Melone. Say he made reader mad about something but didn't apologize cause he thinks he's in the right. So they leave the house they live in together and he figures they'll just come back the next day after cooling down. But they don't. And not for probably another 3-4 days either. They were just THAT upset because the subject was something sensitive to them and he offended them. They needed that time away. But then happens that downward spiral in situations like this as the days go on. They haven't texted + called him and he can't use Babyface because he doesn't have the proper kind of sample he needs. So he's left wondering if they're okay. They come back of course, this isn't some run away from home or kidnap thing;;; just a real bad spat where Mel was a dumb dumb. I'm sorry if I was too specific with this chdjwndkchd. a character x reader as you can see, female reader. If you could have it be a one-shot that'd be nice 👉👈. But if you're more comfortable/prefer to do headcanons I don't mind those either

Silence. That’s all Melone’s gotten for the past few days. The house you two share has become a place of loneliness. The thoughts in his head are loud and they don’t show any sign of quieting down anytime soon. All Melone can focus on was the argument the two of you had the last time he saw you - he was just too stubborn to admit he had been wrong so he just kept going on and on. He wasn’t used to apologizing, but, he was still getting used to the fact that he couldn’t just be selfish anymore. A relationship required the work of two people - and when Melone got in one of those moods it made it difficult for the relationship to work. 

He understood why you left - he understood if he’d never hear from you again. Still, he wanted to at least tell you sorry. There was a lump in his throat when he began to think the worst - what if he something bad had happened to you? It would all be his fault. He wasn’t there to protect you - he promised he’d always be there to protect you. What had he done? Melone didn’t want to continue to allow his thoughts to go to dark places. You knew how to take care of yourself - if anything, he’d like to believe that maybe you went to a friend’s place to cool off. At least he hoped so. 

Melone stared at the wall - he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It all felt just like one long day. He replayed the scene over and over again in his head of the last conversation you two had together. Would that be the last time he saw you? He could hear his pulse, or the way his chest began to feel heavy when he thought too much - the look on your face hurt him when he realized just how much he had hurt you. He replayed the conversation in his head and let the scene play out differently this time. In his head, he had apologized to you and held you closer instead of trying to push you away. He was sorry - God, he was so sorry. He just wanted you back and it seemed like maybe this was it now. This was the end. 

He had finally grown tired of staring at the wall - his body felt heavy. When was the last time he slept? His eyes felt sore, his throat was dry, and his stomach hurt. He hadn’t been taking care of himself these past few days. Melone finally rested his head down on table - exhaustion seemed to have finally caught up with him. There was no point in waiting for someone who might never even show up again. This was his fault - he deserved this. Maybe if he just closed his eyes, even for a little bit, he could just allow time to pass him by. Maybe in time he could try to begin to feel better about the mistakes he had made.

The door eventually opened - but Melone didn’t bother to lift his head. He was sure at this point he was hallucinating maybe, but it wasn’t worth checking out if he was just going to be met with disappointment.

But, Melone wasn’t hallucinating - it was you. You finally thought it over, and after giving yourself some time to yourself you were ready to talk things out with Melone. You found him resting his head down on the table. From where you stood, you weren’t sure if he had been asleep or not, so you were quiet when you approached the table. It wasn’t until you pulled the chair out that the slight scraping of the chair leg against the floor made Melone lift his head up. 

He wasn’t dreaming. You came back. You really came back.

The numbness that Melone had been starting to feel had immediately gone away and he was hit full force with all of these feelings. His eyes were now filled with tears - you came back. 

“I thought I lost you...” he was finally able to muster up some words. It seemed he had still been staring at you in disbelief.

You nodded, and reached for his hand across the table to hold it. “I just needed to cool off.”

“No. I know. But... Are you sure you want to forgive me? I said some pretty fucked up things. I... I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to these things. To us. I mean, I’m happy to be with you but I’m usually not the type to be in a relationship and I... Shit. I am so sorry. I don’t want to upset you ever again.” Melone didn’t want to look at you - he felt like he had no right to look at you or to ask for forgiveness. 

You thought otherwise though - you gently cupped his cheeks and kissed him on the lips. 

“Relationships aren’t all sunshines and rainbows. Stuff like this happens, but I don’t want to give up. We’re learning... Together. We’ll get through this. I know we can.” 

Your response touched Melone. You really were too good to be true. Melone didn’t think he deserved you, all he could do was to allow himself to break down in tears. For someone who had kept himself so guarded, he finally allowed his walls to come down because of you. 

[cowboycatreign]

Hangar 3

Melinda May x nb or fem!reader

Warnings: mentioning of cannon typical violence, gayyyyyyyyy, lesbians, I think that’s it

A/n: this probably sucks. Also I didn’t beta read 😀👍🏽

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

I wake up to a hydra agent knocking on my door. I get up more excited then usual because today was the day! The day I had been waiting for. After a year and half I can finally go home.

I walk through the halls not trying to show my excitement or else I will get questioned and have to lie more then I already have. I finally make it to my little office area. I have secured an area that is semiprivate. I start my final transaction of data when a coworker sees. She turns and starts running to Whitehall’s office. I know I’m screwed, so I rush back to my room make sure I have everything (a picture of me and Mel, the USB, and my wedding ring. I hear violent knocking on the door telling me that I have to go. I have my stuff in hand and snap my fingers. I hear the water running in the bathroom of shield headquarters, so I know I’m here. I open my eyes and take a breath of fresh air. I’m back. I’m finally back.

I find Hand wanting to get the debrief done so I can just go see Melinda. “Oh Y/n your back.” I simply nod my head and say, “I am sorry to be rude, but I really want to get this debrief done.” Hand acknowledges this and says, “well lucky for you all I need is the USB and you can go free.” At this point I am ecstatic so I grab the USB as fast as I possibly can and hand it to her. Hand takes note of this and simply states, “hangar 3, they are about to leave you should be quick.” I give my gratitude, get to a not very visible place, snap my fingers and teleport to hangar 3. I see a very large plane, which is the place I can assume Melinda is. The only way in is regrettably closed, so I have to teleport in.

When I get inside someone walks out of something that looks like a lab. She walks up very cautiously and asks, “who are you? And how did you get in here?” I really don’t want to explain everything to her, so I just say, “Hi! I would like to talk with coulson… we are old friends. And hearing myself say that, it sounds very sketchy. But, you are Jemma Simmons, right?” She’s seems to be a little bit more confident now. “I will call him, but if you do anything I will shoot this ICER at you. It will cause you to fall unconscious.” I nodded cause that actually sounds really cool. When coulson finally got there he walked up to me and we started hugging. He started by saying, “How was the mission? Did you just get back? Does Melinda know you are here?” Right before I started trying to answer everything Mel walks in looking down at the tablet thingy. She starts mentioning a mission and how someone named skye should do the debrief. Phil smirks and simply says, “melinda, there is someone here for you.” She looks up sees me and everything changes. She hands her tablet to the woman behind her and starts running to me. When she gets to me I lift her up and we start hugging. When I finally let go she kisses me and says, “I missed you.” Jemma and the other woman look so confused while Phil is smiling. Mel looks at them and says, “Before any of you say something stupid, this is my wife.” The change of tone made you laugh.

Being introduced to everyone was funny to say the least. Turns out no one knew Mel was married. Obviously I had to have a fake sense of hurt when I figured this out. Mel just rolled her eyes and elbowed me. I missed her laugh and smile, but apparently for other people she is a stone cold emotionless robot. I never wanted to leave her again, so I offered my help to Coulson and he graciously accepted. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hollow Pass (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader has to spend a day in the mines for work, she’s less than thrilled. When the miner showing her around for the day, Dean Winchester, is an ass, she’s even less thrilled. But an accident will change all of that and if they want a chance of getting out of the mess they’re in, they’ll need to put their lives in each others hands, literally...

Pairing: Miner!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, injury, frightening/claustrophobic/near death situations

A/N: Please enjoy the first of this 2 parter!

_______

You sighed as you stood in the trailer of the manager’s office, a jumpsuit and a pair of boots sat in a chair. Your boss, bless his heart, thought it was always a good idea for corporate positions to experience a day in the mines to truly understand the product and what the little guy went through on a day to day basis. The argument that you were not really corporate, not even close, seemed to go over his head.

“Y/N, you gonna change? I need my office back,” said the manager through the door. You pulled it open and pouted. “I don’t want you going down in the mines anymore than you do but if you want to make corporate, you gotta do what the CEO says.”

“Dad I don’t even want to work there. I like my simple office job.”

“Then why have you been in all those development programs at work?” he asked. You shrugged and he sighed. “Cause you can’t say no.”

“Do I have to?” you asked, looking back at the overalls.

“Do you want to quit?” he asked.

“I don’t want to lose a good paycheck. But I don’t want a corporate job either,” you said. 

“Then you’re shit outta luck,” he said. “I’m gonna put you with the Winchester boy. He’s on safety checks in our most secure mines.”

“You mean the ones that never have problems.”

“Funny how that all coincidentally happened today of all days,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks dad.”

“I don’t want you going anywhere near explosives. You’ll be safe doing the checks with Dean for the day.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said twenty minutes later. The man in overalls and a hard hat rolled his eyes.

“I’m ten minutes late because of you which means I’m gonna get docked those ten minutes of pay so thank you little miss corporate.”

“I’m your boss’ daughter, jackass.”

“Still ain’t my boss,” he said. You huffed and headed over towards the mine entrance when he grabbed the back of your overalls. “No, dummy. You have zero safety gear so unless you want to die, you’re coming with me.”

“Asshole.”

“Dean Winchester at your service,” he said, dragging you over with him to some lockers. He punched a card and went to the storage racks, seemingly grabbing a few items and putting them on. He picked the hard hat off your head and grabbed one with a light and a wire attached to it, clipping it on your belt. He put something over your shoulder you put your arm through like a sling and clipped a mask onto the back of your belt, a flashlight and a small hand pickaxe going through your other loops. “Turn this lamp on anytime you’re in the mine and never, ever, take off your hat. If I yell at you or you smell something funny, get that mask on. Flashlight and the axe are backup for emergencies.”

He put a radio in your pocket and looked you over.

“Oh and for the love of God, do not wander off. I don’t care if you see a bug or break a nail or gotta piss.”

“What do you do if you have to…” you said.

“Normally you piss against some rock like a man but special manager’s daughter we’ll walk you back out here, take our slow ass time, make me go longer than my shift and because I was late today, I don’t get overtime.”

“That sounds kinda illegal.”

“The contracts for this company are a fucking nightmare,” he said, walking out of storage.

“Why work here then?” you asked as he went to an area and grabbed a clipboard. He took two water bottles and clipped them on each of your belts before whistling for you to follow after.

“Well somebody had to pay for his baby brother to go to law school and it wasn’t going to be my drunk of a father now was it,” said Dean, stopping and writing something down. 

“So you didn’t grow up with mining in your family?” you asked.

“No. I’m not some redneck hillbilly like you imagine either,” he said. He flipped on his light and turned yours on when you got to the mine entrance. “Crouch.”

“Huh?”

“We ain’t riding the cart which is missing, dumbass. Crouch down so you can fit in the tunnel,” he said. You swallowed and had to bend down some, following Dean closely. “Ain’t claustrophobic are ya cause now’s the time to tell me.”

“No,” you said. “Jerk.”

“Ah, see? We’re getting along already.”

You walked for five or so minutes before the ground sloped down further and an entrance to the right opened up. Dean straightened up and you did the same, stretching out as he grabbed the back of your jumpsuit.

“Dude, would you stop doing that?” you said.

“Would you stay in my line of sight?”

“That’s harassment. You can’t touch me without my permission,” you said, crossing your arms. He blinked a few times and rolled his eyes quite possibly the most dramatically you’d ever seen in your life.

“This? This is not an office building. Every single time you step in here you run the risk of dying and you have zero clue on how to stay safe down here. I hate it when you people with your big offices and penny pinching bullshit come down here and complain about every goddamn little thing. If you want out, get out of the fucking mining business.”

“You’re an irritable person,” you said. He grumbled and tugged you along with him until you brushed him off. You followed him down a hallway and another, Dean checking things off on his clipboard as he went. “Are you gonna explain any of this stuff?”

“What do you think?” he said. He whistled and you followed him down a few more hallways when he stopped a gauge looking contraption. He checked a few different numbers and valves on it as you spun around. 

“I guess it is kinda cool. That somehow you guys know how to block up rocks and leave all these cracks and know how to make it so it doesn’t all come crashing down.”

“Cracks?” he asked as he squatted down and read off a meter.

“Yeah like that big one,” you said, pointing at the wall across the way. He turned around and looked at it for barely a second before he grabbed your arm. 

“Move. Now,” he said. He pulled out his radio and pressed down the button. “We have a grade five crack in Lodge Six West. Do not blow. I repeat do not-”

The ground rumbled and you heard a splintering noise, Dean pushing you back into the hallway you’d been in. He jumped on top of you and covered your body with his, all the lights going out, a loud thundering of falling rocks happening close by. It seemed to go on and on before it finally stilled, the hallway pitch black.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I think so,” you said, coughing when you felt dust in the air.

“Don’t move,” he said. He lifted his head and there was some light, Dean looking around before climbing off of you and staring at a new wall of rock. He looked at the hallway you’d been in, clicking on his flashlight and you saw where the rock dropped off about a hundred feet away. “Well. Shit.”

“What just happened?”

“The rock was unstable and they already set off the charges and it shook the mountain so now there’s a giant hole over there and our exit is blocked.”

“What’s that way?” you asked, nodding down the only unobstructed hallway.

“Further down into the mine before you hit the decommissioned area.”

“Is there a way out,” you asked, Dean patting his side.

“Fuck. My radio is under all that,” he said. He took out yours and handed it to him, Dean nodding before he turned it on. “Main do you copy, over?”

There was silence on the other end and Dean hit the button again.

“Main this is Winchester in Lodge Six West with…what’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, manager’s kid. Copy, over.”

“Winchester this is Main. We got lots of calls coming in from ground crews about a shaking.”

“Lodge Six West Hall K is a giant crater of death and Hall H is buried, right up to the entrance of junction HJ.”

“Injuries?”

“We’re okay,” said Dean.

“Give me a second.”

Dean took a deep breath and coughed. He tapped your mask on your belt and you put it on, the air a bit easier to breath. 

“Winchester this is Melvin.”

“She’s okay, boss. Just a little shook up. Saved our asses from winding up in the ground even if she doesn’t know it yet,” he said. He held out the radio and you pulled down the mask. 

“Dad I’m fine, really. We both are. It’s just kinda dark and smelly is all.”

“I know. Put your mask on sweetie until you can get to some cleaner air,” he said. You put it back on, Dean, getting to his feet. He pulled you up and looked back at your blocked path. 

“Any other collapses?” asked Dean.

“None reported so far. Everyone should be out of the mine’s or on their way. Alarm is blasting.” You looked back at Dean, his eyes shutting.

“Melvin we can’t hear it. At all.”

“Rodney’s out checking where our side of the collapse starts. We’ll get you out,” he said, someone panting in the background.

“Hall B, Mel,” he said. Dean turned away from you and sighed. No one said anything for a long time until Dean finally raised his head.

“We got two 16 ounces bottles of water. If she rations it, she’s got a shot,” said Dean quietly.

“No, she doesn’t,” said your dad, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “How long does your radio have?”

“Mine got crushed. Hers was on a quarter charge. I’d guess maybe an hour or two tops,” he said.

“Should we call your brother?”

“He’s hiking in Glacier Park this week. No cell service,” said Dean quietly. “Just tell him to check my bottom desk drawer. There’s something for him there.”

“I can do that,” he said. “Is there anyone...parents-”

“All due respect sir, I’d rather you talk to your daughter,” he said. Dean held out the radio to you and you picked it up, Dean skirting around the corner to the one unblocked hallway.

“Dean?” you asked, following over there. He was leaned against the wall and looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s going on?”

“They can’t dig us out in time.”

“What do you mean-”

“Talk to your dad. You’re wasting time. That battery won’t last forever,” he said. He turned back and you walked back around the corner, sitting down against the wall.

“Hi dad,” you said.

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaky. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Mom’s on her way down to talk, okay? She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“I so quit this job,” you said, wiping off your eyes with the back of your hand. He laughed and you threw your head back. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m gonna stay on the line as long as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.”

Two Hours Later

The battery in the radio had died about fifteen minutes ago. There was no sound aside from your sniffling and Dean’s down the hall. You got up eventually and went into the hall, sitting down beside him. You handed him the radio and he clipped it back on his belt.

“You okay?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“You try listening to someone say goodbye to their parents and not bawl,” he said. He wiped off his face and took a deep breath. “Air’s better now at least.”

“What do we do now?”

“Now,” he said, clipping his water bottle onto your belt. “You sit there and try not to exert a lot of energy and that water will last you a few days.”

“We both heard my father. They can’t drill or dig or do anything fast enough. It’d take weeks. I’m not sitting here next to your dead ass so take your damn water back,” you said, shoving it back in his chest. He didn’t speak but put it on his belt, pulling his knees into his chest. “Why were you so mean to me before? You gave up time on the phone for me. I don’t think you’re what you pretend to be.”

“I’m a dead man walking and that’s a fact.”

“Technically you’re sitting.”

He smiled and rested his face in his knees. He sat up and reached over behind you, hitting off your headlight.

“We need to conserve power as long as possible,” he said.

“Will our lights go out before we dehydrate to death?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “This is what it’ll be like.”

He flipped off his lamp and you swore you’d never experienced a darkness so deep. You felt his hand graze yours before holding it and you swallowed.

“Kinda less scary knowing you can turn it back on again,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why such a brute?”

“You do this job long enough and most people think you’re a dumb sack of shit with nothing in his head. You’re dead weight, odds are you’ll die down here or get into some kind of accident and have to go on disability the rest of your life. You corporate people are always so stuck up, like I’m not even good enough to be the dirt on your shoes. I didn’t give you a chance because odds were you were like all the rest of them. You’re the only reason we didn’t die in that hole, very painfully.”

“Wouldn’t we have-”

“No. It’s not a simple hole we would have fell in. Falling rocks, crushing and hitting, landing on you, ones you hit yourself. Might not kill you immediately. You’d feel it.”

“Dying of thirst is better?”

“I’d say so. Still get to keep this handsome face, or what’ll be left of it,” he said. He flipped his light back on and you scooted closer. “I think you’re very attractive.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna die in like three or four days. Life has no consequences now and I happen to find you very attractive and you seem like a smart, sweet woman that put her parents a little at ease during the worst moment of their lives.”

“Who’s your brother?” you asked. “No consequences after all.”

“He’s a lawyer...and my best friend.”

“You said you did this job for him.”

“Student debt is a bitch. I try to help him out and the overtime helps make dents in it,” he said. “Our parents had debt out their asses. It caused so many problems for us. I wanted him safe, never have to worry about the next meal on the plate or the roof over his head or having to wear my hand me downs ever again. At least he’ll get my life insurance policy. That should help.”

“I have been busting my ass since I was a college freshman in that office to move up the chain for a job I didn’t even want. I completely lost nearly all of my twenties to work. All so I could die in here.”

“Well I know this doesn't sound good but I’m glad I didn’t die all super painful. Or that I’ll be alone,” he said. You smiled and nodded, Dean returning it. “Got any bucket list shit we can pull off down here?”

“We could make out,” you said. “Never knew anyone could make that jumpsuit look good.”

“Why the fuck not,” he chuckled. He leaned in close and your helmets bonked, Dean pulling his off and yours, quickly cupping your face. 

His lips were gentler than you thought, the two of you stopping when your lips were pressed together. You rested your forehead against his and broke off only an inch.

“Not as much fun at the moment as it sounded,” you breathed out.

“Pretty good last kiss though,” he said. You put your helmets back on and you grabbed his hand again. 

“Don’t let go down here. Please.”

He reached to his belt and undid a little pouch, pulling out a small tether of rope. He clipped one end onto him and the other to you.

“For when the lights go out,” he said.

“How long do we got?”

“About a day, maybe a little more,” he said. You sighed and turned your head, staring down the rest of the hall. “It’s decommissioned, Y/N. It’s a death trap.”

“Is there a way out?” you asked.

“Maybe. Maybe they never find us though,” he said. You stared at him and he nodded, hitting your headlamp back on. “Enough of the pity party. Let’s go get out of here or die trying.”

He stood and held out a hand, hoisting you to your feet. 

“So. What’s our best option?” you asked.

“It’s alright for a bit until we get to the decommissioned section. When we get there, that’s when it gets dangerous. Technically it’s dangerous now considering the blast but we’re okay for a bit,” he said. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. He nodded and you followed him down the hall, walking side by side. 

“Alright so the decommissioned section is called Hollow Pass. Beyond that is Upper Seven. If we can get to Upper Seven, we can get out the old entrance I’m pretty sure. Never been in there but hopefully it’s not a maze over there.”

“So Hollow Pass is the hard part.”

“Yeah.”

“Why was it decommissioned?”

“Unstable ground. Holes, pockets of air, rotted support beams, wood planks.”

“So it’s a death trap.”

“Yup,” he said. “We’re probably gonna die down there.”

“What do you think our odds are?”

“Well it’s been out of order for over fifty years, we have no map, I have no real idea where exactly to go...I give us 1% odds.”

“Beats are 0% odds here.”

“Good way to think about it considering we’re going to most likely die.” He stopped walking and took a deep breath. “If I fall or whatever, follow the widest hall possible and keep away from wood and cracks as best as possible. Ration your water and eventually you��ll find your way out.”

“If you fall I’m definitely not gonna make it.”

“Well at least try. You can tell my brother how devastatingly brave I was that way.”

“You just spent the past hour crying.”

“So did you,” he said. You bumped his shoulder and he returned it but it was playful and soft. You walked together quietly for a moment until Dean rounded a corner and took a deep breath.

There were a few planks across a hallway, Dean kicking them down, frowning when they broke pretty easily.

“There’s gonna be rot.”

“Lovely.”

“We don’t have to go,” he said. “You don’t have to. There’s a chance-“

“There’s no chance Dean. Not if we stay up there. If you don’t want to go, I will. Maybe I can get help back in-“

“We’re doing this together or you’re staying. I can go and you-“

“We both go,” you said. 

“I go first. You step where I step and if I tell you to do anything, you do it.”

“Dean. We already established that you’re not a hardass. You can lead the way but you know, nicely.”

“Alright, alright,” he said. He gave more slack in the rope attached to the two of you and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He was calm for a few minutes until you were turning down a hallway, Dean suddenly stopping in front of you.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Look,” he said. You poked your head around him, swallowing at the rotted wood on the ground, holes worn into the planking. “Y/N that’s not good. Rot means there’s water and water means erosion and erosion means big shafts hundreds of feet straight down under those wood planks.”

“How much of it is wood?” you asked. You both looked ahead and sighed, the whole hall flooring covered in wood. “Shit.”

“Y/N. This is too dangerous. I’ve worked in mines since I was 18 and it’s way too dangerous.”

“Dean. I don’t want to die. If we don’t do anything, we’re dead in three days, maybe less.”

“Maybe they come up the decommissioned mine and get us,” he said. 

“Dean. The mountain collapsed from what my dad said. They are not coming in here, risking even more lives, in this mine. It might even have collapsed on the other side on the way out. We don’t know. All we do know is we stay and we’re dead or we go and we’re maybe dead.”

“You still won’t let me go on ahead on my own to try to get some help?”

“You’re not leaving me alone,” you said. You stepped ahead and he yanked on the rope, pulling you back. “Dean. Stop.”

“I go first,” he said. You held up your hands and he swallowed, Dean stepping past you, carefully putting his weight down on each plank. “Follow. Every footstep exactly where mine go.”

You followed after, the only sounds your breathing and the occasional board creaking. Dean put a foot down and stopped moving forward when you heard snapping. 

“Go back. Slowly.”

You stepped a foot backwards, putting weight on it and your foot going straight through. Dean grabbed your arm as you pulled your foot up, a few sticks falling into a deep dark pit. 

“What do we do,” you breathed out.

“Well we’re over rock that fell away so there’s a big hole beneath us if the rotted wood is anything to go by,” he said. You heard the slight waiver in his voice and sighed. “We make a choice. Forwards or backwards.”

“Back looks bad. Plus we already probably broke the supports.”

“I think solid ground is in front. But I have to jump for it,” he said. You looked past him and shook your head. 

“Dean, it's way too far. I can try to walk over there if you let out the rope. I get to solid ground and then you walk and if you fall, I got you with the rope.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no way.”

“You’re too heavy and we can’t stay here,” you said. You slipped past him and he tried to grab you but you went quickly. “Dean let out the rope. Now.”

“Fuck. We’re gonna die.”

“No we’re not,” you said, walking quickly, planks creaking but you sighed when you had solid rock under your feet again. “Alright. Just go where I did and fast.”

He took a deep breath and walked a few steps, a loud groaning of the wood making him move faster.

You hit the ground the second you saw him go down, the wood breaking away. Dean shouted and you dug your heels into the dirt. 

“Y/N!” he said, falling straight down into a hole and out of view.

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Thoughts

*Credit to the gif owner* 

Pairing: Sam W. x reader 

Pov: Sam 

Warnings: Fluff, Sam can hear the readers thoughts, Sam falling in love with the reader, Dean is here to help the plot

Summary: Sam gets cursed after the Dean, Y/n, and Sam hunt a witch. The next morning when he wakes up all he can hear is Y/n thoughts, and he’s slowly start to fall in love with her. 

A/N: Using @firefly-graphics Sam Winchester divider for this fic. This fic is sorta based on "What women want" with Mel Gibson. A good ol' Romantic Comedy.

Word Count: 2.3k

Main Masterlist Sams Masterlist 

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen​

A witch hunt couldn't possibly go wrong, right? Especially with the Winchester boys.

"Look lady, sit down before I shoot," Dean shouted, causing Y/n to flinch. Just enough of a flinch that I would be having a conversation with Dean later about no yelling so much.

The witch sat down, but what nobody noticed she was casting a spell under her breath. Dean, Y/n, and I had huddled together trying to figure out what we were going to ask this damn witch.

My back facing the witch. Dean looking over my shoulder looking angrily at the lady. Y/n had her game face on. She sometimes followed us around like lost puppies, but damn was she a fucking awesome hunter.

Sometimes better than Dean and I put together.

When I say that she followed us around like lost puppies I mean she never said what she thought. Dean or I would come up with a plan and she never put input in. Just kinda did what she was told. Reminds me of a younger version of Dean and myself.

Working our asses off for John, all for it to be for nothing. A good little soldier and that was all we were to him.

In the end, Dean just ended up letting the witch go since she hadn't any information. We all pilled back into the impala for the drive back to the bunker.

Y/n fell asleep in the back seat curled into a ball and looking rather peaceful. "Y'know I was thinking lover boy that maybe she could stay permanently with us," Dean said referring to Y/n in the backseat.

I just rolled my eyes before turning to look out the window. The drive was shortened by the fact that at one point my eyes were open and scanning the passing environment.

And the next minute I was dreaming a nice dream. I had a family a beautiful wife standing on our front patio, and watching our daughter and I play with our puppy.

It was nice, it was peaceful. But when I was looking around my dream, I noticed that every face was blank. Well, there goes the normal dream.

The shaking of my body woke me up. "Yo, wake up. Get your shit and go the bed." Dean said, pushing me closer to the passenger side door.

Stumbling out, I walked groggily to the back of the impala and grabbed my bags. Slinging them over my shoulder, I saw Dean try to pull Y/n from the back.

"Sweetheart, we made it home." Dean whispering. His hands falling underneath her knees, carefully picking her up out of the impala. "Open the door would Ya, instead of just standing and staring," Dean said still whispering.

I ran over to the door opening it. "Dude get some sleep, I'll get Y/n settled in, kay," Dean said passing me. Shrugging my shoulders and yawning as I walked to my room.

Stripping down to my boxers I collapsed into bed, loving the coolness of my sheets. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out like a light.

Dreaming wasn't something that always happened for me, not since I first started hunting with Dean. But those weren't dreams those were more like nightmares, of people that I couldn't save.

I fell back into the same dream as before, still no faces. But the woman I assumed was my wife as a familiar voice, our daughter was what seemed like she was tops five or six.

Cute little thing, long brown hair like my own, wearing a cute sundress that was blue with green flowers printed on it. ' Dear, are you guys ready for dinner?' the woman asked me. I tried to not stare at the fact that she had no face, so I just hummed. Picking up our daughter.

'Tank you for playing with me daddy!' my daughter said to me bringing her small hands and arms and hugging me around my neck. Besides having no faces everything else seemed normal, my wife's voice seemed all too familiar and it was honestly getting at me. Before I was able to ask her something I was pulled from my dreams.

Waking up was a bitch. My neck was sore, and so were my shoulders. Deciding that today I wouldn't take that mile run, I opted for staying in bed just a bit longer this morning.

Finally getting up when I smelled coffee being made in the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of sweats that were laying around, I slipped my slippers on and went to go get some coffee.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was Dean dancing along to his horrible 70s and 80s rock. Flipping pancakes and sizzling bacon. 'God, why'd he choose no shirt this morning' "Huh? Did you say something Y/n?" I asked her, looking at her for the first time since last night.

She had her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a flannel of Dean, and a baggy pair of shorts. "No, I didn't say anything, Sam," Y/n said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, continuing reading her book.

Okay Sam you have to admit that was odd and kinda creepy. Not that I mind being complimented, but still weird. "You gonna get your cup of coffee or just stand there looking like an idiot!" I heard Dean crack.

"No," I answered back grabbing a coffee cup that was next to the machine. 'Jeez Dean way to be an asshole towards Sam.' There it was again Y/n voice.

Turning around rather quickly which only hurt my neck even more. "Did you just say that?" I asked panic starting to overtake my body and instincts. y/n looked over at Dean, causing Dean to look over at me.

"Dude what are you going on about?" He asked me... eyes big I just waved his question off, "Never mind I think I must have hit my head last night." I said just wanting my morning coffee more than anything.

The rest of the morning went by fine. No hearing Y/n voice, but then again, she wasn't around for the rest of the morning. "I'm heading out to the shops; I need a new pair of jeans. If either one of you wanna head out with me that's fine too. If not that's okay too guys." Y/n said mostly talking and looking at me.

'Please come out with me Sammy' I heard. Ignore it, rolling my eyes before speaking again. "No, it's okay. Dean?" I spoke. "Nah, I'm fine dear. But thanks." Dean said using his signature wink.

As Y/n walked away I heard her voice again, 'Jesus Dean, stop with the nicknames, and the winking. Obviously, it's not working.' That was the last I heard the sentence.

Dean wants to be with Y/n. I don't, I can't see that going very well, Dean sees Y/n more as a sister than anything else. What does that mean it's not working?

Hours later Y/n came into the bunker carrying a few bags. "I thought you only needed a pair of jeans, Y/n?" Dean snarked. "I did, but you guys were running out of some things, so I grabbed some other shit." Y/n countered.

Well, I can't deny that Dean and Y/n do have a certain chemistry, one that she and I just don't have. "what did you get?" I asked moving the conversation along. "I umm... I got you guys some t-shirts, some more socks, and just something fun for both of you." She said shyly.

"That's great, thank you. Did you have an okay time?" I asked, 'No, Sam I didn't that's why I wanted you to go with me. So many gross old men hit on me.' I heard Y/n's face was only scrunched up for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I had a perfectly fine time. Really did enjoy the alone time." Y/n said winking at us. Dean just rolled his eyes and jumped up to go through the bags, but Y/n swatted his hands away.

Digging into the bag she pulled out pie for Dean and he took off with it like he was a squirrel. Y/n looked back over to me and then started to look through the other bags. "Here Sam. I didn't know if you already had this book, but I thought why not." She said, shrugging her shoulder in a cute sort of way.

"Here for a gift return, a Winchester hug, yeah?" I said laughing a little bit. "I don't see why not, I heard that they're hard to come by," Y/n said back rounding the table in an effort to get on a very one-sided hug.

I hadn't realized until recently how much shorter Y/n was compared to me. I could fully rest my chin on her head. 'God I could use this more often' I squeezed her in my arms. 'God, he smells so great' I heard again, she nuzzled her face into my chest. 'He gives much better hugs than Dean.' I heard.

Y/n was the one to let go of the hug, not me. I was starting to realize that it was in fact Y/n I was hearing just not the words coming out of her mouth, it was her thoughts.

That night I convinced Dean that I could make dinner. For the time I was at college and dating Jessica I had learned some good enough cooking skills. "Fine whatever you do just don't ruin my pans and pots!" Dean screamed from his bedroom as I walked away.

That night I cooked a shrimp alfredo, and chicken alfredo with noodles. Something simple but it was mostly all the food that we had left in the bunker kitchen.

"Dinners ready you two!" I hollered from the library, Dean running from the garage, and on the other side of me was Y/n walking down the hallway. 'Look at him, damn chiefs' apron' I looked down and saw that the apron said "kiss the cook" Damn Dean.

'I'd definitely kiss that cook.' I heard as she walked past me. I just followed her with my gaze, mouth slightly open. Hoping that it wouldn't fall straight to the floor.

"Well dig in. It won't kill you, Dean." Y/n said. Dean just put his hands up in defense it's not like he had said anything but we all know he was thinking it instead.

Dinner went by quickly, few words from any of us, and not many thoughts passing through Y/n's mind. Besides 'Damn, he's got skills, 'So much better than Dean would ever do' I snorted when I heard that thought. Dean looked over at me, "What's so funny Samuel?" He spoke.

I rolled my eyes, "It's Sam, Samuel sounds like an old fashion name" I said. "Nothing is wrong Dean." I finished. 'If nobody thought you guys were brothers, they should spend at least a few hours with you.' I heard.

"Can we not fight at the dinner table, please Dean," I asked. I was trying to lean into what Y/n was saying, or more thinking. By the end of dinner Dean had eaten another serving and was now on his second piece of apple pie and a glass of hard crown apple whiskey the Y/n had bought earlier that day.

"Good night you two love birds. Tweet tweet. I'm heading to bed." Dean said kissing Y/n's temple, and patting my shoulder he walked out of the library.

"I'm sorry about him, Y/n. He doesn't have a sensor." I said apologizing for my older brother. Y/n got up waving him off and grabbed the leftover dishware.

I followed behind her grabbing what she couldn't. "He's fine. He should know better, but he's okay Sammy." Y/n said. Not many people called me Sammy besides Dean and Y/n, but it always seemed sweeter coming out of her mouth.

Y/n started to wash dishes. "Can I ask you a question Y/n?" She hummed, so I continued on. "Why do you never say anything while we are on a hunt. You don't always have to follow out stupid ideas...." I said noticing that Y/n had now turned around and was facing me.

"Look I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I'd like to know what you're thinking for a while. especially when we are on a hunt. Your opinions matter to me. I hope you know that." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

'Shut up would Ya'. You don't know how much that means to me.' "I know that you can hear what I'm thinking." Well, that went south very quickly and my stupid facial expression doesn't help the situation. "How long have you known?" I asked.... We stood in silence beside the water in the sink running. "Since before dinner when I was thinking about kissing the amazing chef that made dinner. Because I would still kiss the chef." Y/n said. setting the plate down on the kitchen island.

'Do you want me to kiss you, Samuel?' She said in her thought. I hummed. Shaking my head, licking my lips in anticipation. 'Words Sammy Dear.' She thought. "Just come over here. If this is what happens when I can hear your thoughts, I may be okay with being cursed by a witch ever so often." I said before our lips crashed together.

Our kiss was short-lived when Y/n left mine. "What are you talking about the witch from last night's hunt?" I shook my head. "We need to go get that witch, kill her, get her to remove the curse. Whatever, because as much as it's cute somethings a girl wants to keep to herself." Y/n said, coming back up to my lips and pecking them.

"You're gonna be the death of me," I said, before following her over to the sink to help wash dishes. I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n. I thought.

"Hey... I heard that." Y/n said. I rolled my eyes, "No you didn't." Confusion replaced Y/ns soft features. "Okay, what did I say then, Y/n?" I asked. "I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n" Y/n answered.

"Damn it. We really gotta find that witch, Samuel." Y/n said.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Welcome to the fifth installment of Beyond The Shelves!

This month’s creator spotlight is on the truly unique and amazing @mlim8. Mel has brought new life into fandom with her stunning art and comics that can make you laugh and cry. She's also the artist behind the Padfoot you can pet on the Librarian's home page (desktop) and the Moony gif on the Help Desk page. Now let's get to know this incredible artist!

Name: Mel is fine :D (she/her)

Where can people find your art?/Support you?

I'm only on Tumblr! @mlim8 (I tried getting a Twitter but I got confused so it's an account in limbo~). My Wolfstar/HP Masterlist is here (links only work on mobile)

What's your favorite thing about Remus & Sirius?

I'm a biggggg sucker for the 'childhood friends' trope. As well as pairings that scream mutual pining, but on the other hand, can be pure fluff. I like pairings where the couple can play off each other, can support each other, who might not always see eye-to-eye but have also been with the other for so long now, they know what they’re doing to make sure they still work, because in the end, they LOVE EACH OTHER. Somehow, Remus and Sirius can tick off all these different boxes and I love them for it uwu And then, there’s also just so much mystery about them in the books and therefore, so much freedom to interpret them, given how little we actually have to go on - it’s so cool to see them in an assortment of AUs, tropes, canon, non-canon fics and see them fall in love over and over and over again… So ultimately? I guess my favourite thing is that it’s so damn obvious how in love they are with one another that the Wolfstar fandom is as big as it is :)

What do you think your signature style is?

I think I’m known for fanfic comics, cute fluff, and my chibi style. You will also see a blush on my characters’ cheeks like 98.9% of the time. I can’t help it… it belongs there lol

What inspires you?

Fanfics, usually. I actually came back to drawing on tumblr because of some beautiful fanfics that I couldn’t get out of my head and needed to draw them. Afterward, it would be songs, videos, memes, conversations with friends, posts from friends, etc - it’s not difficult to take something and go “Do it again, but as Wolfstar.”

What advice would you give new artists?

I guess some obvious ones would be to practice, practice, practice. Use references and 3D models, they help so damn much. Video tutorials and other art tutorials are there to help you make things easier, there really is an endless pit of things to learn and techniques to master. Some other things that people might forget: drink water, do stretches for your wrists and neck, get up once in a while to get blood flow in your legs. But most importantly, even if you want to practice a lot, don’t forget to TAKE. BREAKS. Your body and mind will thank you.

You also don’t need anything super fancy to draw: traditional art is just as valid as any digital art (more so because you don’t have a CTRL+Z function and it drives me insane, so power to you!!). Cheaper $50 art tablets can do what you need them to, as long as you know how to use it. With art programs, there are tons of free ones that you can get your feet wet before committing to any expensive programs (I’ve used Paint Tool SAI for years in the past and I know artists that use FireAlpaca and GIMP with amazing results as well :D)

Lastly, and this is gonna be a hard one: Don’t compare yourself (or your progress) to other artists. People take years (decades??) to make art that they love and develop a style/technique that they’re proud of and it’s not worth the stress. You’re only in a competition with yourself and that’s challenging enough already!

What do you use to create your art?

I use a Wacom Bamboo Fun Pen & Touch - it was a birthday gift from waaaay back that I’ve had for a decade now :’)

For art programs, I’ve been using Clip Studio Paint for about 8 months now and I use Photoshop for stitching larger GIFs together uwu

What's a favorite piece you made and why?

Oh my God, how to decide… there’s been a ton that I’ve been proud of but my favourite (spelling with a u because I’m Canadian, eh) would be the recent Candy Heart Post I did a couple weeks back now. Just a lot of love and effort went into it, not just the art itself but trimming the song, all the editing and timing of each frame. I wanted so hard to tell a story and I think it came out the way I wanted it to :)

Pick one of your own pieces/AUs and give readers a little note about it. What inspired it? Why is it a favorite?

Okay, so this is probably an obvious one for those that have been on my blog for the last few months - but I have an AU called ‘Rembus and Hunter AU’ that is about an incubus demon, Remus, and a Demon Hunter, Sirius. The demon, affectionately called Rembus, is surprisingly sweet and adorable. In short: HE IS BABY. And when Hunter comes to the Village of Gryffindor to get rid of him, he learns that there’s more to demons than he’s known through the church and his family.

It’s just a really stupidly cute AU, despite the premise, and I’m so excited to share their story with everyone (one day, haha I’m a slow artist -)! Here’s Part 0 (the info card), if anyone is interested :)

It was created when I came upon an outfit ( similar to what Rembus wears) and thought “Okay, but Incubus!Remus.” - and that’s it. That’s usually how my AUs come about. The smallest inspiration and I spiral out of control with a backstory. This AU was fleshed out a lot with the help of Whippy, who was great to bounce all these ridiculous ideas off of lol

Make sure to check back later today for a list of works and recs from Mel herself!

[pedro-pascal-love]

The Truth

Chapter Seven of Well, This is Awkward

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Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: Reader learns the truth about Dave, Carol returns home, and unexpected things happen.

Warnings: Language, angst, cheating/infidelity

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Dave looked at you. You looked at Dave. There was a silence in the room that was stifling. You blinked, cocking your head to the side, waiting for an answer, unsure of where this confidence came from. Dave stared at you, unsure of how to proceed.

Do I tell her the truth? Or lie? Dave pondered.

Fuck, here goes nothing.

“I - uh. I used to work for the DIA,” Dave started as he held his hands up to help keep you calm.

“What, like the CIA?” you countered with a scoff. Dave nodded.

“Kind of. DIA, Defense Intelligence Agency. We focused more on national level defense military stuff whereas the CIA was more on the intelligence and international stuff,” he explained. You looked at him bewildered.

“You’re telling me that you’re like some kind of spy or assassin or something?” you asked sarcastically. Dave merely looked at you and nodded.

“Yeah, you could say that. But it’s a was. I used to work for them,” he clarified. “The government shut us down a few years back.”

“Used to? What do you do now?” you questioned. “If not for the government, then who?”

“Whoever I want,” he retorted. “I do the same things I used to for God and country, kill names on a paper. Only now, there’s just a price next to them.” You stared at him, completely speechless. The man that you’d been sleeping with, who you had slowly been growing feelings for, was someone who killed people for a living?!

No, no, no, no, no.

This can’t be happening, you thought as you grew lightheaded. You lost your balance and had to sit down on the bed while Dave took a step closer to you. You held your hand up to him.

“No. – just stay there. Please,” you said, as you tried to process everything. Dave. Your boss Dave. Dave, who hours ago had you sprawled out on his bed as he plowed into you. Dave, who just rescued you from your murderous ex.

Fuck, I sure know how to pick ‘em don’t I?

You scoffed to yourself as you held your shaking hands in front of you. You looked up to Dave with a stern look.

“After the shit I went through, I deserve an explanation,” you said firmly. “I watch your daughters; I deserve to know exactly what the FUCK I got myself into.” Dave nodded at your words and held his hand out.

“Fair enough, princess,” he said as you gazed at his hand, still uneasy. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at your door again.

Fuck.

In a blink of an eye, Dave had whipped out his Glock and aimed it at the door, placing his body between you and the doorway. He nodded as he looked at you, letting you know you could talk.

“Who is it?” You shouted.

“Hey, it’s Jesse! I’m outside with Mel, and the cops are here too,” you heard your friend Jesse say. You breathed a sigh of relief as you touched Dave’s shoulder, indicating he could put down the weapon. He hid the gun again as he grabbed your hand in his left hand and your duffel bag in the other and pulled you through your apartment. You arrived at the front door and opened it, to be greeted by Mel and Jesse staring at you, with two police officers behind them.

“Uhm, hey guys,” you said, trying to keep your cool.

“Oh my god! Thank goodness you’re okay!” Mel said as she threw her arms around you. Jesse patted your back as he looked at Dave and then at your intertwined hands.

“Where’s Tom?” Jesse asked, observing the absence of the person who moments ago was just there. You shivered at the thought of what might’ve transpired between Tom and Dave outside your door.

“I got rid of him. Turns out he kind of spooks easily,” Dave said with a shrug.

“Excuse me, who are you?” The policeman behind Mel asked. Dave looked at the officer and read his badge and badge number, memorizing it just in case.

“I’m Dave. Her boss,” Dave said firmly. “When she didn’t return to the house right away, and I hadn’t heard from her, I knew something was wrong. And I was right. She’d texted me about Tom being here.”

The two police officers nodded.

“Miss, do you mind coming down to the station to get a statement?” The officer asked. You shivered, and Dave took notice.

“I think I should get her back to the house. She’s been through so much already, and I can bring her down there later on,” Dave answered for you, taking charge. You gazed up at him, surprised he was so cooperative with the authorities.

I guess that’s what he has to do, given his line of work, you thought to yourself with an eye-roll. How much more did you now know about Dave?

“Very well. Miss, is that ok with you?” You nodded your head as you looked at Mel and Jesse.

“I –," you began, but Dave cut you off.

“If you two would like to accompany us on the way to the house and spend some time with her, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll take care of getting the girls from school and everything later today,” Dave said. You looked at him and then your friends.

“Uh – yeah. I’d like that. They can follow along behind us?” You asked, finally finding your voice. Dave nodded, and you both made your way out the door and to his SUV. Mel and Jesse got into their cars and drove up behind you as soon as you pulled off into the road. You and Dave sat in silence in his car. The air between the two of you growing tense again.

“Spill,” you said as you crossed your arms and glowered at him.

“Ask me questions, and I’ll answer them. It’ll be easier that way,” Dave answered as he looked at the road.

“Fine. First of all, how the fuck did you get into my apartment?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow up at him. Dave sighed.

“I had a copy made of it the first week you were at the house,” he answered truthfully.

“Why?”

“In case of emergencies.”

“Hmmm.” You pondered out loud. You thought back to all your conversations and things that he had said to you. Today he’d mentioned that he knew you were in trouble when he hadn’t heard from you, and he’d made it to your apartment faster than you’d anticipated, considering you thought he was fifteen minutes away at home. He’d made it to your apartment within five minutes of texting him, which would’ve been impossible if he was where he said he was.

“You said that when you hadn’t heard from me and when I hadn’t gotten back to the house after dropping off the girls that you knew something was wrong. But it would’ve taken you at least fifteen minutes, maybe ten if you broke traffic laws, to get to my apartment from the house. How did you know?” You challenged. Dave sighed. He pulled his phone out and handed it to you. You looked down at it in confusion.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked him. He had you point the phone to him as he unlocked it with his thumb and turned the phone back to you. You looked down at the phone, and your eyes widened. On the screen was an image of your front door. You tapped an arrow, and the angle changed to that of your kitchen, facing the front door. Another tap, and you were now looking at your living room. Another tap, and you were looking down your hallway. Several more taps confirmed that there were indeed cameras everywhere in your apartment. Even in your bedroom and bathroom, though it didn’t show the shower, thankfully.

Small blessings, you thought in annoyance.

“Double click and choose the next app,” he instructed. Following his directions, you were then greeted with a series of dots. Upon further investigation, you saw that the dots corresponded to your phone, and your car, along with a few other dots that you weren’t sure about.

“Those other dots are the girls’ phones, Carol’s car, and her phone,” Dave explained, seeming to know your unspoken questions.

“You bugged Carol’s phone?” You asked. “Is that how you knew about the affair?” Dave shook his head.

“Wait, is my phone bugged to?!” You said, realization finally dawning on you.

Oh, god.

He’s heard all the things I've told Mel over the phone.

Dave merely looked at you and smirked.

“I won’t answer that, but I think you know the answer, princess. And no, I had had a feeling about the affair for a while but never had a reason to pursue investigating into it. Until –,“ Dave stopped himself.

“Until?” you prompted. Dave cleared his throat.

“Until you,” he replied softly. Your eyes widened. What exactly was he saying?

“Explain,” you stated.

“After I met you and found out you were the nanny, I had Resnik investigate into your background. Who you were. Where you went to school. Where you previously worked. Who you’d dated. Everything. You were going to be watching my kids 24/7; I had to,” Dave said with a shrug.

“And the cameras?” you asked with a grunt.

“Just to keep an eye on you. With Carol being absent, the girls needed someone, and I wasn’t about to lose the only other person in their life that they looked at as a mother,” Dave uttered. “Besides, even without the cameras, you were tailed wherever you went. Resnik made sure of that.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You mean you had someone spying on me?”

“I guess when you put it that way…. But it was only to keep you safe. The night I got confirmation of Carol’s affair was the night I found out about Tom.”

“YOU WHAT?!” you exclaimed.

He’d known that Tom was out of jail and would be coming for you and didn’t tell you?!

“Look, I wanted to tell you, but you didn’t even know that I knew.” Dave had a point there. You hadn’t mentioned anything of your history with Tom to Dave, even though you’d had a lot of pillow talk the last week.

“Wow,” you breathed out as you sat back in your seat. You both spent the rest of the ride in silence as you processed everything that Dave had shared. Your boss was a spy. No, an assassin. An assassin spy? Whatever. He killed people for a living, which should terrify you, considering your ex had tried to kill you.

I’m surrounded by killers.

Yet you didn’t fear Dave like you feared Tom. In fact, instead of fear, you felt something else, and you weren’t quite sure what it was. You mulled things over and realized that Dave had only tried to protect you and hadn’t hurt you, whereas Tom had wanted to kill you.

Dave was a killer, but he didn’t kill without reason, you thought to yourself.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you’d returned to Dave’s home until you were pulling up the driveway, and Dave had already parked and looked at you. You turned away from him and let out the breath that you were holding.

“I – I think I need a little space,” you managed to say as you looked at him. Dave looked at you and nodded.

“I understand.”

You got out of the SUV and made your way over to the front door as Mel and Jesse met you there. Dave nodded at you all as you walked into the house and you shut the door. You turned to Mel and Jesse, and they merely looked at you.

“Ok, spill,” Jesse finally said, breaking the silence.

Dave was seething. He wanted to crush Tom like the parasite that he was. But he couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He needed to take care of a few things first; the main thing was to make sure that you were ok. Dave sighed as he thought about the conversation you had moments ago. He’d come clean to you about what he did and who he was. He’d come clean to you about everything, including the cameras and even bugging your phone. What the hell possessed him to do that? He had no idea. He shook his head as he dialed Resnik’s number.

“Resnik, I need you to track down Tom and keep an eye on him. I have some plans for him,” Dave instructed into the phone as he looked through the windshield and towards the silver SUV at the other end of the street.

“Got it,” came Resnik’s reply, and the line went dead. Dave had things to prepare.

—THREE DAYS LATER—

Dave had grown weary of Carol’s arrival as it grew nearer. After the ordeal with Tom two days prior, you’d holed yourself up in your room. Dave had told the girls that you weren’t feeling very well and not to bother you, and you hadn’t even emerged to see him. He’d resorted to leaving trays of food outside your bedroom door for you and would watch as you’d open it and set the previous tray out. He’d understood that you’d just deal with a lot and needed some time, but he grew anxious.

I do not have feelings.

No.

I can’t, Dave argued with himself that morning. Carol was set to be home within an hour, and the girls were still at school. Dave had checked on you through the cameras and had seen that you were sound asleep, having taken some sleeping pills that he’d given you. First, he needed to deal with Carol before addressing things with you. He sat in the living room and waited, thinking of what he would say to Carol. It felt like an eternity had passed before he heard Carol’s car drive up and the sound of her getting out. Dave sighed as he got up and braced himself for what was to come. Carol walked in the door, none the wiser to what her husband knew.

“Carol,” Dave greeted as she opened the door. Carol jumped back with a start.

“Dave! I wasn’t expecting you here,” Carol said as she clutched her chest.

“Well, our nanny wasn’t feeling well, so I dropped the girls off at school today and came home to make sure she was ok,” Dave answered. Carol nodded.

“I see. Well, that’s sweet of you,” Carol said as she maneuvered past him and towards their bedroom to unpack. Dave followed behind her as he bided his time, waiting for Carol to notice the envelope on their bed. Carol walked around the bedroom, putting various things down before setting her gaze on the yellow manila envelope on the bed.

“Dave, what’s this?” Carol asked as she picked it up. Opening it, she scanned the contents of the envelope, and she let out a gasp as the pages fell to the ground. Enclosed were the photos of Carol and Adrian's affair, the same ones that Dave had shown you the night he found out.

“Dave, honey, I – I can explain,” Carol said. Dave held his hand up and shook his head.

“I know everything, Carol,” Dave sternly said as Carol swallowed. “We are getting a divorce, and I am taking the girls.”

“You can’t!” Carol exclaimed, and Dave silenced her with a firm gaze.

“I can, and I am. The girls deserve a mother who will be there for them, not one that goes on so-called work trips with her lover for weeks at a time,” Dave spat out. Carol recoiled at his spiteful tone, and his words cut deep.

“I suppose the fucking nanny’s the one to do it?” Carol retorted back, trying to get a rise out of Dave. “Have you been sleeping with our nanny?”

“Maybe she is! The girls asked her themselves if she’d stay and be their new mom,” Dave bitterly replied, making sure to dodge the question of sleeping with you. Carol’s heart broke to hear that her daughters were unhappy with her.

“No. No, they can’t have said that. You’re lying!” Carol lashed out as she threw a finger accusingly at Dave. Dave shook his head and squared his shoulders, looking much more intimidating.

I wish it were as easy to get rid of her as it would be others.

Ugh.

“It doesn’t matter, Carol. This marriage is over. Don’t bother unpacking because you will be out of this house by tonight,” Dave said as he turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Carol to cripple to the floor in agony.  She let out a sob as she looked down at the pictures once more.

What have I done? She thought to herself.

You woke with a start. You’d had another nightmare about Tom. You dreamt that he’d somehow gotten into the York’s house and taken you and finished what he’d started. You looked down at your arms. Sweat dripping down onto the mattress. The last three nights, you’d stayed in your room away from Dave, and you’d known that it was a mistake. You missed his body next to yours, holding you as you slept. You were still upset with him but also understood where he was coming from. In a matter of short weeks, you’d gotten to know Dave and knew that he’d never intentionally hurt you unless you asked for it.

Having found out the truth about him had not made you fear him; in fact, it made you even hotter for him. You also dreamt that Dave swooped in to save you and whisk you away in your nightmares with Tom. You sighed at that thought as you got up out of bed and into the bathroom. You knew that Carol was due home today but wasn’t sure about the time since you’d been ignoring the world around you for the last 48 or so hours. You were, however, unaware that she had already arrived home two hours prior and currently sat in the master bedroom crying while Dave was hidden away in his office.

You walked into the shower and turned it on, waiting for the room to fill with steam before stepping in and sighing as you felt the hot water cascade down your back. You never wanted to get out, but you knew that you had to face reality sooner or later. After twenty minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. The window on the other side of your room was open, and a breeze came in, but you knew that you’d left it closed when you went into the bathroom. You were sure of it. You clutched your towel to your body as you scanned the room, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. You walked over to the window and shut it and then made your way to the walk-in closet and turning on the light, and looking around, still not seeing anyone. You sighed and shook your head.

Probably just being paranoid.

Dave probably came in and opened the window, you thought to yourself as you walked over to where you kept your underwear. As you were about to drop the towel, you felt a presence behind you, and the hairs on the back of your head stood up. As you began to turn, a hand came around to clasp your mouth shut as another one held you restricted your movement.

“Hey baby, miss me?” a voice spoke into your ear as the world went black around you.

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[fangirlovestuff]

Child’s Play - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- Hey lovely people! the movie in this is completely made up with excessive use of random plot/name generators lol. also, the Melissa I mention is Melissa Fumero who I love and plays Amy on Brooklyn 99, and Anthony is Mackie who we all know and love. Enjoy! <3

Summary: You’re a director and you finally got to direct your husband chris in a movie. Now you just need to get through the press tour...

Word Count: ~1,780

Warnings: none that i’m aware of

You stepped out onto the stage when the interviewer called your name, waving at the crowd which was cheering and clapping.

"And without further ado, let's give a round of applause to Captain America himself, Chris Evans!"

Chris lightly stepped onto the stage, waving at the screaming fans as he took his place next to you. He reached out and squeezed your hand in his, and you returned a squeeze. You both tended to get nervous at these press panels and interviews, even if this one was one you were lucky enough to do together.

"It's so great to have you all here today! The entire cast of the hit movie The Invisible Lights!" the interviewer started and the crowd applauded once more. "First off, I want to start with a question for Chris," she said. He smiled and nodded at her to continue. "Your character in this movie, William Brown, is a sorcerer, but in a casual way, that's like his thing. For you, who, I believe, have never played a character with outright magic powers before, how hard was it to find a window and relate to him?"

"Yeah, it was actually kinda easy, even easier than some other characters I've played, because—"

"He's a wizard guys, it's not that complicated," you cut in and Chris laughed.

"Almost," he says and smiles, "but what I was gonna say before my lovely wife here interrupted me," you made a kissy face at him and he chuckled once more, "was that Will is actually just a nice guy, he experiences everything with the same compassion and excitement and fears just like us normal human beings do, and magic is just a cool bonus to that. So no, I wouldn't say relating to him was any more challenging than to any other character." 

"Thank you, Chris, that was a great answer," the interviewer smiled. "Now Melissa, I actually have a question for you too," she turned to her, "we all know and love you as Amy Santiago, who is a very comedic character, so what drove you towards this part of Nancy, who's just a normal person who's trying to do her job and doesn't get to make as many jokes in this movie as other characters do?"

"Well, I think Amy and Nancy are similar in a lot of ways, you know, they're both very dedicated to their job and are very rational women, but what drew me to this was actually the differences between them. Nancy is less type A, she's a bit more unsure of herself and is more of a "normal person" whereas Amy is more the "nerd" type. Getting to play someone like that just appealed to me a lot."

The interviewer asked you a question next. "So how was directing this movie for you? What's it like directing your husband in a movie?" the audience cheers a little at that. 

"Well, I gotta say it's one of the most fun sets I've been on, and not only because Chris was there," you smiled. "I was obviously a huge fan of Melissa and I was stoked she could do this movie with us, and really the whole set was very upbeat and just fun, especially the scenes we shot with the kids, who were lovely. The lead actor was… a bit much honestly. He's just…" you shook your head, sighing, and Chris laughed. "He's just too handsome for his own good. It's terrible really," you laughed. 

"No, but honestly, working with him was so much fun. I've always known the talent he has, but being able to really witness it firsthand and going through the whole process of making a character and a movie with him was wonderful. "

The crowd "awwww" ed at that and the interviewer continued. "Would you say directing him was harder or easier than someone else, someone you don't necessarily know?"

 "Listen, directing Chris… well, it's not that different than what I do every day," you shrugged and turned to Chris, "you do need a lot of chaperoning babe," you smiled. He laughed and reached for his chest like he always does. The crowd laughed as well and you gave a little giggle as well. 

"It's true," Chris smiles and says, "she's always like, 'Chris do the dishes,' and 'Isn't it your turn to walk Dodge today?'"

"That is not true Christopher!" you put your hand to your chest as if offended. "Besides, that was a terrible impression of me, I can't believe you do this for a living!" you threw your hands up and shook your head in disbelief and you all laughed.

"Um, but to give a more serious answer," you turned to the interviewer once more, "I think in every movie you direct, you get to form a connection with the people you direct. The fact that Chris and I already have that connection is both a blessing and a curse because on the one hand, we're more comfortable trying new things and taking risks, but on the other hand that means it's easier for us to get off track and just kinda goof around instead of doing our jobs," you chuckled. "But I do think we handled it pretty well," you smiled.

"Well that leads me to my next question, which is for the rest of the cast who aren't you and Chris," the interviewer smiled, "how did they do with keeping it professional on set?"

Everyone laughed and you and Chris smiled at each other. 

"Terrible," said Anthony, who played David, a police officer in the movie who was good friends with Chris' character. "Well, no, when we were shooting the actual scenes, they were fine, but every single break we had, these two-" he looked over at Chris and you, "look at them! They're making heart eyes at each other right now!" he rolled his eyes. 

You and Chris looked away from each other and smiled while the crowd cheered a little. 

"I think we were totally fine," said Chris while he took your hand in his. 

"Well, I guess they weren't that bad," Melissa said.

"I have one more question for you guys and then we're gonna take some fan questions. So, what was it like working with the kids on set?"

"They were really cute," Melissa said, "so I had a lot of fun working with them," she shrugs and smiles. 

"Speak for yourself," you said. "Well, okay, they were very cute and it really was a blast having them on set. We basically said for people who have relatives who were about the age we looked for that they should bring them because we needed a whole class. So my niece was there, Chris' niece and nephew, Mel's kid… we had a lot of fun, but in terms of production time, kids are kind of difficult. Not to say it's the kids who were there, because they were truly lovely and it's like that with all kids. So yeah, working with them was a really good time but also cost quite a bit of time and we already were short on time, so it was definitely a challenge." 

You all took some questions from the audience and then the interviewer said, "Alright guys, we have time for one last question, who's next?"

A girl who was a bit younger than you came up to the microphone. "Hi! First of all, can I just say I'm such a big fan of all of you guys," she seemed nervous and you all smiled at her. "So, my question is a spin on an earlier question and it's for Chris – You've spoken a lot in the past about the importance of a strong-willed director to really bring in the movie nicely, so how was it having your wife direct you in a movie?"

"Wow, you're really setting me up to fail here, aren't you?" he laughed and you turned to look at him, an interested look in your eyes. 

"Sure, well, I really can't say enough good things about her. Both as a director and just as a person, she's got a real talent of making people feel very comfortable and that definitely comes in handy on a movie set. She knows really well when she wants to listen and get ideas from us and when she needs to steer the ship herself a bit more, and I think I'm speaking for everyone here when I say that with her, the vibe on set is always a good one. She's very attentive to things that I would've never thought about that really make the movie what it is and she's very capable of standing at the helm of a movie and saying 'okay, this is what needs to happen and this is how we're gonna do it.' If I already thought the world of her before making a movie with her, I can't really tell you how much I admire her now. It's an embarrassment of riches really," he smiled at you and you returned it.

The audience "awwww"s once more. "Anything else you'll be making soon?" someone shouts suddenly. Everyone on stage laughs, but the interviewer starts talking so you don't have to answer the question.  

"Sadly, that's all the time we've got, so give it up for the cast of The Invisible Lights! It was a pleasure having you here today, thank you so much!"

You all got up and waved at the audience before walking off stage. 

When you left the stage, Chris came up behind you, circling his arms around you and splaying his palms on your belly. 

"That was a close call," he said softly in your ear. 

You hummed and leaned back into him. "Yeah, we're lucky the bump isn't visible yet," you smiled and craned your neck in order to kiss him properly. 

"You know if it gets too hard, we can cut the press tour short right?" Chris says, looking at you with a worried gaze.

"If you keep saying that after every interview I'm gonna start thinking you don't want to be here," you laughed. "It's fine, really," you reassured him.

"Okay," he smiles and leans down to kiss you once more.

"Hey lovebirds! Didn't we just agree you were professional? Don't ruin that image!" Anthony yelled at you. The rest of the group has already continued, leaving you a little behind.

"Coming!" you both yelled and laughed.

"Can you believe in seven months we're gonna have the most perfect kid on this planet?" Chris asked while he moved to stand next to you and take your hand.

You simply beamed and squeezed his hand in yours. You couldn't wait.

Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth

if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

The Next One’s on You 2/5

Whelp Maxwell Lord has been consuming my thoughts all day and I sat down and wrote out the next part. Part three probably won’t be out till Saturday but I didn’t want to wait to post this one. Thank you my darling @justanotherblonde23​ for being my emotional writing support buddy. Thank you for reblogging, commenting, and liking! Let me know if you want to be added to a Taglist. 

Summary: A series of moments in the life of Maxwell Lord x reader centered around drinks. 

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader 

Warnings: 18 + for language and some making out 

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @mrsparknuts @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @maxlordsgf @xjaywritesx 

My Masterlist  

Chapter One - Triple Espresso 

Chapter Two: Vodka Martinis 

A week passed, then two and nothing. Not a sound. Silence from the illustrious Maxwell Lord IV and so life moved on. The shop had a steady stream of customers, and evenings were spent vegging out in front of the TV in your pajamas with whatever dinner you scrounge together that night. You pull the vanilla ice cream closer to you and dig the spoon inside when your roommate Michael comes out his tight black jeans, and black turtleneck the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. 

“Oh honey, it’s a Saturday night,” he wiggles his butt at you, “you should come out with us tonight we’re going to that new dance club, get out of this depressing apartment.” 

“Oh yeah...that’s not really my scene. I would much rather be home with a good book or TV, but you go and have fun! Don’t worry about me,” you smile reassuringly and he scoffs. 

“How about a date then?” he uses the mirror on the wall to apply a thick layer of black eyeliner stopping to look over at you, eyebrow raised. 

“What?” 

“My friend Tom from work, he’s single and looking to mingle,” he wriggles his eyebrows up and down at you, “What do you say? Friday night dinner at Les Amis?” 

“That new French place downtown?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been talking about going there since it opened. Just give the guy a chance, what else would you be doing on a Friday night. Seems like your mystery man didn’t pan out.” 

“Mystery man?” you sit up straighter and place the open container onto the coffee table. 

“The one who left you those white roses,” he rolls his eyes and finishes the wing tip. Closing the tube with a snap and putting it into his fanny pack. Your heart sinks as you think about the beautiful flowers and the arrogant bastard who left them. 

“Oh those…” you say dejectedly. 

“So what about Tom?” he puts one hand on his hip and looks at your expectantly. 

“Oh…” what could be the harm, “sure why not. You’re right, I have nothing else going on, and I have been wanting to go there. Who knows maybe I will find the love of my life with this Tom.” 

He laughs, “there’s the spirit. Oh sweet little barista, we will find you love yet!” He pulls the door open and shut quickly, his platformed boots smacking loudly down the stairs. 

You groan, throwing yourself back against the couch, a hand coming up to massage at your temples. What’s the harm? Maybe this Tom guy will be wonderful and you’ll end up happily ever after, like one of those Disney movies. 

Friday night comes before you know it and you straighten your dress again in the mirror. The black cocktail dress is the nicest thing you own with short sleeves, a white lace collar, cut off just above the knee. You pair it with your sensible black heels grabbing your clutch and heading out to catch a taxi. 

When you pull up the lights from the restaurant twinkle and you gaze at the elegant people inside drinking champagne from tall flutes. You take a moment to imagine that’s you when you are interrupted by your thoughts by a tap on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me, are you y/n? Michaels friend?” you turn and look at an attractive man with short cropped black hair, thin lips, blue eyes, and a suit with a purple waistcoat. 

You nod smiling and reach out your hand, “Tom right?” 

His grip is firm and his palms are sweaty as he holds your hand up to his mouth and gives it a sloppy kiss. You give a slight grimace as you pull your hand away and cover it up with a smile. “Shall we?” you gesture towards the hostess and he nods, putting his hand on your lower back as you’re both led to the table, his hand dipping lower and squeezing your ass. 

He pulls out your chair and as you sit down and he leans toward you, “you look good enough to eat,” he murmurs in your ear and you have to suppress the uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach. 

You try to laugh it off and concentrate on the meal. Conversation flows freely and you almost feel relieved until the end. “So why are you single?” he asks. 

Your drink catches in your throat you sputter out a surprised, “what?” he ignores you continuing. 

“I mean when Michael asked me if I wanted to go out with his friend I thought he meant one of those young things he goes out clubbing with every weekend. Obviously that isn’t you,” he takes a sip of his cocktail, “I mean you're pretty, but I think we both know this isn’t gonna go beyond tonight. So why don’t we just skip dessert and get out of here?” 

You stare at him incredulously wondering if he’s actually serious and when he just takes another sip and gestures for the check you close your eyes sighing. When you open them again he is sliding his credit card to the waiter and you look around the restaurant trying to think of a way out when you feel eyes burning on you. You slowly turn to the left and see a large table filled with men and women in expensive suits and dresses. Sitting at the head of the table and fuming is Maxwell Lord the fourth. 

Fuck. 

You groan and put your head down rubbing at your temples. You hear the pen scratch against the pad and Tom hops up to his feet and slides on his coat, holding a hand out to you. “Let’s get out of here baby, and I will rock your world.” 

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” you put your hands down flat on the table and look up at him. 

“I just bought you dinner,” he scoffs, “it’s time for you to return the favor baby,” he moves to grab your wrist and you pull it quickly from his grasp. 

“Please just leave, don’t make a scene,” you plead and he does what he’s done all night, ignored you. 

He bends and gets right in your face sneering, “Now I see why your single, fucking bitch to good for anyone. Maybe if you got some, you wouldn’t have that stick so far up your as-” you slap him hard across the face. Tears burning in your own eyes. 

He shakes his head in shock and the slap echoes across the restaurant, customers turning to stare. He rubs his cheek and looks like he’s about to explode grabbing the water glass closest to his hand he pours the entire contents of it hard at your face. The freezing water shoots in your eyes and you gasp as it soaks into your dress and into your underclothes. “Fucking bitch,” he shouts stomping out the door. 

You close your eyes and reach for your napkin using it to clean off your face. You listen for the noise of the restaurant to resume to a gentle hum before you open your eyes. You do everything in your power to avoid the eyes of the other patrons, especially Maxwell Lord. The waiter comes up to your grimacing, “Can I get you anything honey?” she asks, holding out another napkin. 

You shake your head no, gratefully accepting it and thanking her. She smiles lightly before leaving. You stand up and shiver, feeling the tendrils of water seep down your legs. Keeping your eyes straight ahead you walk out the door and suck in a large gulp of air, body trembling slightly as a cool breeze blows past. Instantly regretting the choice not to bring a coat. 

“You know, when I said the next drink is on you...I didn’t think you would take it so literally,” your eyes close and head drops as Maxwell Lord’s voice charms behind you. 

You sigh and turn towards him, taken aback at how he’s not smirking like you thought he would be. Instead his hands are clenching tightly in a fist and he looks downright boiling. Chest heaving, neck red, and a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. 

“What do you want Mr. Lord?” 

“I…” he unclenches his hand and runs it through his hair, “I wanted to know if you were alright, that was quite the scene inside… did he...did he hurt you?” his voice takes on a dangerous edge as your eyes raise to meet his own. 

“No,” you reply breathlessly before coughing, “No, I’m fine.” You shiver again as another burst of air blows past. 

You feel the heavy coat land on your shoulders before you see it. His suit jacket carefully pulls across your shoulders as he wraps it around you. You try to protest but he scoffs, “You’re freezing,” he chastises, “take the damn coat.” 

You say nothing pulling your arms through the sleeves and wrapping the front around your chest. You're enveloped in the scent of fresh linen and something spicy from his expensive cologne, and you sigh. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

“My limo is on it’s way, let me take you home,” he steps closer and you retreat. Defenses rising. 

“Thank you but I would rather catch a cab then step foot in your sex mobile,” you turn away from him attempting to flag down a cab but having no luck. 

He groans, “My sex mobile?” 

“Yes. Who knows how many women you’ve fucked in there I don’t want to catch some disease. Plus I already told you once Maxwell Lord the Fourth that I am not some cheap whore, and believe it or not I meant it.” 

“You don’t think I know that?!” he shouts and you whip around looking at him wide eyed. “Listen, I make it a habit of getting what I want. Whatever I want….women throw themselves at my feet, money freely flows, and I have a whole household of servants to do anything I want. I will admit that day I acted like an...an asshole but...you...you’re different.” 

“When I saw that guy treating you the exact same way I had...and then when he tried to grab you, I saw...red. That fucking…” he takes a breath to calm himself, “I know it’s not what you want but I would feel much better if you let me bring you home.” 

You observe him for another moment before nodding slowly. You just stare at each other, his breathing slowing and matching pace with yours and when the limo pulls up you both walk towards it, never breaking eye contact. You slid into the backseat and he follows his leg brushing your own. 

“Where to sir?” the driver asks. 

“Home,” he shouts back and your eyes widen. 

“I thought you said you would take me home?” 

“Yes, to my home. I want to take you out for a drink and being...well being me, I can’t do that without it causing a publicity nightmare…” He trails off looking at your wide eyes, “Is...is that okay?” 

You get the feeling he doesn’t ask for permission very often and you slowly nod your head. This had to go down as one of the strangest nights of your life. Tom certainly turned out to be the villain in your fairytale but maybe there was still hope for at least a nice ending. The driver makes twists and turns and your stomach flips as his hand moves down to grasp the seat, finger brushing right against your own. Without thinking you move your pinky over to graze over his ring. You hear his breath catch as he links his pinky with your own. 

The car pulls up to a gorgeous mansion with tall white columns and two marbled lion statues. The butler greets him at the door and you smile at him in greeting and hand over Maxwell’s coat. Maxwell takes your hand gently and guides you to another room. A large brown leather couch takes up the center of the room under a persian rug. A roaring fire in the fireplace illuminates the room in a warm glow, huge bay windows looking over an expansive garden and pool. He lets go of your hand and you feel the aftershocks slide up your arm from his touch. 

He goes over to the bar on the far wall and pulls down two glasses. Filling a shaker with ice you watch as he meticulously fills it with vodka and vermouth, slapping the glass over it before he lifts it over his shoulder and shakes it furiously. You can see his arms flex under the white linen shirt he wears held in place by a pair of brown suspenders. 

He slaps the side of the shaker to release it and strains them both into the glasses before spearing an olive and putting it into one glass and going to spear the other you shout, “No, please no olives,” he looks over at you eyebrow raised, “do you have any cherries?” 

He says nothing, only removing another saucer and tossing two cherries into the other glass and carrying both over. He hands you the drink and clinks his glass against yours taking a sip. You watch, mouth dry, as he swallows and his neck stretches deliciously. 

“Come,” he walks over to the couch and sits down patting the seat next to him. 

You take the seat hesitantly beside him and take a sip savouring the taste. He puts down his drink on the small table in front of you and turns to you, “I think we got off on a rocky start…” 

You snort, “you think?” 

He glares at you before smiling, “Yeah...that was probably my fault. So why don’t we try this again,” he holds a hand out to you, “I’m Maxwell Lord the Fourth, CEO of Chimtech Consortium.” 

You shake his hand feeling the electricity spark in your fingers again, telling him your name and adding the title of barista to the end. He repeats it slowly and feel yourself warm at the way your name comes out honeyed on his tongue. 

The ice broke, the two of you into easy conversation talking about everything. All about his company, his family, what he likes to do when he gets a free afternoon, and even his favorite color. The more you learn about him the more you begin to unravel the mystery of Maxwell Lord. You’re both on your third vodka martini of the night when he brushes his fingers over your cheek. 

“You have an eyelash,” he holds it on the tip of his finger putting it up gently to your lips, “make a wish,” he whispers. 

You close your eyes and blow gently, lips pushed together and you sigh when you feel the press of his lips against your own. It’s hesitant and barely there and when he pulls away you surge forward pressing your chest against his own and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. He responds eagerly and pulls you close till you're straddling his waist on the couch, his hands running up and down your back. You groan as you feel him rub gently against you and he uses it to lick his tongue into your mouth. 

You arch your back as you feel his tongue warm and velvety intermingle with your own. He scoots forward to the edge of the couch and pulls your legs to wrap around his waist. Hands moving lower to knead your ass gently through your dress. His foot kicks out and he knocks the drinks to the floor spilling onto the expensive rug. Glass shattering as they hit together just right. 

You both pull away breathing heavy to look at the ground, the vodka seeping into the rug. You burst out laughing and he looks at you with that damn eyebrow cocked again, “What’s so funny?” 

“I would like to get through one interaction with you without one of us spilling our drinks,” you tease eyes glittering as you smile at him. 

His lips curve up and he lets out a chuckle, pulling you close to resume his kisses, “Ok, I’ll take the blame for that one sweetheart but the next one’s are on you.” 

“Are you asking me out, Maxwell Lord the fourth?” you tease, pecking his lips gently. 

“Yes,” he pulls away looking serious again, “What do you say?” 

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again, “sure,” you let out breathlessly, “why the hell not?” Maybe you didn’t find your prince charming in Tom but something even better came along. 

Suddenly, the door is thrown open and a thin older woman with grey hair in an immaculate Chanel suit stalks over to you, “Who the hell is this Trollope Maxwell?!” she screeches. 

“Mother, please leave us alone,” he hisses. 

Mother? Oh fuck, what have you gotten yourself into now. 

Chapter Three: Orange Juice