#i want to put them in a keepsake box

[qhostcaptain]

fergus and adam appreciation because i love their friendship and im literally fixating on them

[eats-the-stars]

we just don't put the kids in anything we don't want caked in mud/grass/etc. when we go outside to play. Super easy to just keep a bunch of outdoor play clothes that can get absolutely wrecked on hand (majority of their outfits tbh), and keep the really cute/sentimental stuff for like indoor outings like the children's museum or so on. and yeah there are also totally skirts that are plain outdoor things to be muddied up just as much as pants. any clothes can be destroy-able as long as you think they're kinda bland/ugly and they're also decently durable for rough-housing around.

My baby daughter got her adorable puffin-print dress absolutely CAKED in mud crawling around the yard and my first thought was "oh no her beautiful dress"

And my second thought was "oh huh it really WOULD be easy to unconsciously steer her away from playing in the dirt. Unlike my son, whose outfits are usually some kind of solid dark easily washed pants plus a shirt that doesn't trail in the dirt like a dress does."

Anyway something something gender roles start getting shoved on kids from literal birth, but with a little time to think about things, YOU TOO can let your children of any gender absolutely destroy their clothes in the dirt pit they're digging in your garden

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[wonderjanga]

I’m Never Going Back to That Farm

Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…

Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*

Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma

Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”

Supes and Marvel: *share a look*

Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”

Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*

Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”

Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*

Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*

As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.

Supes: “What’s all this?”

Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”

Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*

Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*

Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”

Supes: “Wife?!”

Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*

*silence*

Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”

Pa Kent: “And the kids?”

Supes: “Kids?!”

Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”

Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”

Supes: “He’s a year younger.”

Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”

Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*

So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.

Later during dinner…

Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”

Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*

Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*

Pa Kent: “And when you’re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”

Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”

Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”

Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.

Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.

Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.

Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.

Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.

Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christmas post, yay!

[andy-wm]

AYS Behind the scenes: behind the paywall

Now that the Disney+ episodes are complete (sob), my attention is firmly fixed on my mailbox as I wait impatiently for the AYS photobook and QR code.

I was always going to buy the Jikook photobook, even though I doubt there will be much we haven't already seen in the episodes. But the inclusion of the QR code was the clincher.

I must admit, Hybe locking up the behind the scenes for AYS was not on my bingo sheet.

Making behind/additional clips available on Bangtan TV would have been more in line with their regular MO. We don't generally have to pay for what really amounts to outtakes.

Okay, yes, we have to pay for behind cuts of Run BTS, but the actual episodes are free. With everything else the behind clips are included when you buy the series (I'm thinking of BV, ITS, and concert boxed sets).

In fact I can't think of any other time a behind/ bonus clip hasn't been available to fans who pay for the main content.

Maybe it is because Hybe was only contracted to deliver 8 episodes to Disney+ and the price was fixed. Maybe they saw an easy way to make the series more profitable.

We know they will take any opportunity to lighten our wallets.

But I think there's more to it

Let's talk business:

If Hybe wanted to make money from this, having the sale point directly on Weverse would make more sense. That way anyone could buy it any time without having to buy the photobook as well. Even if they charged just a few $$ for these extra clips, the return could be substantial over time. Long tail products can be very lucrative and Hybe clearly knows this - they have heaps of old footage for sale on Weverse. Since they're hosting the content already, it makes sense to keep that 'buy now' button active and let the dollars trickle in.

So why reduce the potential pool of buyers? Why limit this to those who buy the photobook??

Well, let's consider who is going to buy the photobook?

Who is going to fork out US$28 plus postage for a keepsake of these two on their third honeymoon?

I doubt OT7 ARMYs would buy it. Even ARMYs who bias JM or JK - if they aren't part of the SGMB they probably don't want it either.

Solos sure as hell don't want it - they are probably wishing the whole thing never happened... sucks to be them haha

Who really wants to see these two living their best lives together?

We do!

And by we, I mean Jikook supporters.

People who want to see more of this:

and this

And this

We are the people who will buy this photobook (and probably never look at it more than once, let's be honest)

But let's get back to the topic at hand....

The photobook/behind combo seems like a chicken/egg situation to me.

Which came first - as a concept - the photobook or the behind clips?

Did they decide to offer a photobook, and then think of adding the extra footage to make it more appealing?

Or vice versa?

Did they decide to make the behind clips, and think of the photobook afterwards?

Hard to say, since behind clips have always been a thing and recently Hybe is putting out photobooks for everything.

But I think I have a fair idea

Consider the price point for this photobook - it's the same price as most of the others produced recently: +-US$28.

AYS photobook & behind is the same price as the Photo-Folios, Tae's Type 1 (magazine version) photobook, and the Beyond The Stage photobook

🗣 So they aren't charging any extra for the behind footage?

No, they aren't. They're basically giving it to the buyers of the photobook as a gift.

🗣 Could they be making money off it?

Yes, the could.

Long tail, remember?

Looking at the profit-making potential, it makes WAY more sense for Hybe to offer the behind footage on Weverse for a few meagre dollars and... wait for their ship to come in...

See what I did there? hahahhaha (laughing by myself)

They really aren't making any money off this!

how unlike Hybe...

So why go to the effort of setting up QR codes and putting it behind a paywall? It costs money to host content this way. They are in fact SPENDING money to bring us this footage.

Not only through the hosting costs there are also production costs to consider.

Wouldn't it make more sense to just freely share it with ARMY via Bangtan TV? Or not release it at all?

Yes, it would...

So there's only one logical answer...

Hybe has chosen to make the content available - but also make it just that little bit more difficult to access.

This whole exercise seems to be about releasing additional footage without releasing it to the general public. It's being shared specifically with those of us who support them.

Does that mean we'll see slightly more personal content?

Maybe it's a little more revealing of their undeniable bond and their hot chemistry...?

Whatever they contain, these behind clips are definitely for a limited audience - and purposefully so.

The only reason for it, that I can think of, is to safeguard Jimin and Jungkook from too much scrutiny and criticism - from within the fandom (unfortunately) and outside of it.

We will find out in a few days I guess.

In the meantime, I'm camped out by my mailbox

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 9

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

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

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

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this wasn't my planned update but here we go.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your grandmother is where she always is. In her chair reading her book. She doesn’t look up and you don’t bother saying a word. She’s getting exactly what she’s always wanted and she doesn’t even realise it. She’s getting rid of you. Another thing you’ve done for her that she’ll never acknowledge. 

You go into your room and look around. You sit on the bed and examine each wall. You’re not going to miss this place, just your freedom. There is no illusion left around Andy. He’s shown how far he’ll go to make his will your own. You don’t expect him to ‘take care of you’ as he keeps promising, not in the way it sounds. 

You huff and hold your head. You’re not going to sleep. You don’t have time to. You have to figure out what to take with you. What do you tell your grandmother? She won’t care either way, will she. She’ll finally have her empty nest. At least someone will have what they want. 

You don’t have much to your name. Your switch, your headset, controllers; that’s the expensive stuff. Your clothes are mostly used, easily replaceable. You’re not really worried about dressing up. 

You spend the hours going through every little nook and cranny. You’re not sentimental, you don’t have much that it more than material. Only a box of keepsakes from the few years of your life; a friendship bracelet the neighbour girl gave you before she moved away, some meaningless award you won in grade school for attendance, and the only thing left to you by your parents, besides resent; a baby sweater you wore when they thought they could love you. 

You fit everything you’re taking in a single bag. The rest you box up and drag out to the curb. In the early hours, the house is quiet and you try not to make too much noise. Your grandmother’s snores stir from her room. She’s blissfully ignorant just as always. 

You strip the bed and put the sheets and blanket in the wash. Hopefully you can switch it over before you go. You wipe down the furniture with a wet cloth and dust the corners and the empty closet. You’re covered in sweat and breathless by the time you have the entire space barren. You’re so tired you’re dizzy but closing your eyes only brings Andy’s voice to mind. 

There’s a creak and you raise your head as the ripples dissipate. Your grandmother slouches as she clings to the door handle and scowls. She looks around the room and her grey brow twitches. 

“Eh, what’re you doing?” She growls, “making all this noise.” 

“Leaving,” you shrug. 

“Leaving? To where?” 

You’re dumbfounded she’s even asked. You sit up and show your hands, “gotta go back to school soon anyway so I’m going to crash with Kara. I’ll leave money on the table when I go.” 

“Oh.” 

That’s all she says before she goes. She believes you only because she doesn’t care enough to doubt you. You hang your head and sigh. You can’t help but think of what Andy said. You hate to admit it but he’s right. There’s no one else who wants you. It doesn’t make him a better option, just the only. 

Thinking makes your head hurt. Or maybe that’s the lack of sleep. You check your phone and wrap up the charging cord. Morning already. Nearly 7am. You spent hours clearing out your old life; a life that was never really living. 

There’s a message waiting for you. Two. Both from Andy. The first is a good night you never answered and the second from just twenty minutes ago, asking if you’re awake. You send a thumbs up. That’s all you can handle right now. 

The call comes almost as soon as the message sends and the check mark turns blue. You answer without hesitation. Your so numb to the inevitability of it all, there’s no sense in avoiding any of it. You just want this over with even though you know it won’t be. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” Andy purrs from the other end. Your throat clenches and your cheeks tug into a frown. “How are you?” 

You go to speak and cough, your mouth dry. You clear your throat and rub your forehead as it throbs with the effort, “awake. Packed.” 

“Oh, honey, you sound tired.” 

“Mm,” you hum flatly. 

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he says, “I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” He pauses, waiting for the lies you won’t give him. “Well, when do you wanna head out? Do you need a little more time?” 

“Ready,” you utter. Not really ready but resigned.  

“Sure, sweetheart, I’ll just get myself together and be over in twenty minutes, how does that sound?” 

Why is he asking you like you have a choice? You garble an agreement and hang up. You put the phone down as you sit on the naked mattress and stare. Your head is swimming with fatigue. As you close your eyes, the fear returns. You’re really doing this. 

You fold over your lap and whimper. It’s over, not that it ever really begun. Not that you were ever really expected much. You just wanted to be your own person, have your own space, make your own way. For once in your life, you just wanted to be you. 

Andy isn’t going to let that happen. You don’t know him but you know he wants you to be something you aren’t. Whether it’s delusion or cruelty, you don’t know, but you know something isn’t right. It can never be right. 

You get up and unlock your phone. You key in a message with the last of your strength; ‘meet me at the corner’. You don’t think she’ll bother herself but you wouldn’t want your grandma to see the truth. You’re not sure she’d even care enough to judge you. 

You come out as she grumbles into a coffee cup. You roll your bag behind you and grab your jacket from the hook by the door; a light canvas one you wear in the mornings when the dew chills the air. She stares at the television as the news blares at her. 

“Here,” you take out the little bit of cash you have left to your name and place it on the table at her elbow, “I’m... going now.” 

“Erm,” she grunts and slurps the coffee. She doesn’t even look at you. Should you tell her you’re not coming back? You leave your keys with the money 

You just turn and pull your bag after you to the door, stopping only to put your shoes on. You open the front door and step out into the soft hues of morning. It would be a beautiful day if the world hadn’t gone gray. 

Your bag wheels scratch the pavement behind you, the whole thing jostling at the end of the long handle. You head down to the corner and park yourself on the curb, waiting as your eyes rove the area. You take it all in; the fences, the hedges, the cracked birdbath, and the few welcome signs on doors. 

The low whir of an engine approaches. You know without looking it’s him. But you do. You have to face it. 

“Hey,” Andy steps out as you stand on the curb. “Let me get this, sweetheart.” 

He reaches back inside the car and hits a switch. The trunk opens on its own. Is it pathetic that you’re kind of impressed by that? You’ve only seen trunks that you open with your hands. He lifts your bag inside easily and taps another button, the hatch closing slowly behind him. 

“Come on, you look beat,” he touches your shoulder and you flinch, curling inward as you shake his hand away. “I brought you a coffee. Not the hotel brew, the good stuff.” 

You numbly follow him around to the other side. He opens the car door and you stare at the interior. You take a breath and grab the trim of the door and haul yourself inside. You drop heavily into the seat and your head bounces against the rest. 

He lingers. You feel his gaze on you. He’s expecting something you can’t give him. Not yet. You don’t know if ever. You let out a murmur as he leans in to kiss your cheek. You fight not to show your disgust. 

“Just relax. I’ll drive, you get some sleep, sweetheart,” he caresses your arm. You don’t react. Not a look, not a flinch. 

He shuts the door and walks along the hood. You watch him through the windshield. He’s wearing one of those suits. Dark navy slacks and white shirt with a black tie. You let your head loll and see the matching jacket folded neatly in the back seat. 

He gets in the car, his weight felt in the axle. He hits the button to wake the engine and buckles his belt. He glances over. 

“Hey, safety first.” 

You huff. He's acting like the dad you never had. You click the seat belt into place and turn your face to the window. He inhales deeply and lets it out slow before he puts the SUV into gear. 

“You say goodbye to grandma?” 

“Mm... mhmm,” you grumble. 

“She’ll miss you, huh?” 

Your lip curls and you hide your face as you focus on the houses rolling slowly by. Why is he playing this game? Did he not throw her apathy in your face to get here? 

“Did you bring your switch? We could play some at the hotel,” he offers. 

You close your eyes and ball your fists. It takes everything you have left not to scream and hit him. It’s like he’s rubbing it in. He won! He won! 

And you lost. Just like always. 

“What about Kara?” You ask crisply. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re hoarse. Try some of the coffee,” he reaches to flick the top of a travel mug. You narrow your eyes as you follow the gesture. The purplish pink metal is topped with a white plastic lid. On the side, the outline of a game controller is patterned on the multicoloured finish. “It’s a good brew. Only a few places I’ve found have it. I’ll take you to the shop back home once you’re settled.” 

You’re not arguing with him. You’ve seen how far that gets you. You take the cup and pop the tab on top. You take a tentative sip as you feel the heat within. 

“I added some sugar,” he says. 

“I don’t like sugar,” you snap the lid shut and put the lid back. 

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “guess we have a lot to learn about each other.” 

“Kara,” you insist again. 

He sighs and taps his fingers on the wheel, “I called last night. They’re holding her so we can pay the bond.” 

We? He’s not subtle. You sniff as your back racks with the sort of achiness that comes from being so tired. 

“I’ll talk to them. Get the charges knocked down. If anything, I can get them piled onto that boy she keeps around. He’s trouble, if I’ve ever seen it--” 

“Seen?” You echo, “have you... seen him?” 

He hesitates and his cheek dimples under his dark beard. He stares at the road ahead as his lips move as if he’s talking silently. Finally, he answers. 

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. I know better than any that hanging out with the wrong crowd can get you into a lot of trouble--” 

“No, Andy, tell me. Were you watching her too?” You sit up with effort. 

“You should sleep, it’s a long drive,” he girds. 

“Andy, tell me--” 

“I had too. You cut me off and I had to be sure you were okay,” he insists. “And you weren’t. Not really. Sweetheart, things are going to be a lot better. Together. You just can’t see it right now because you never--” 

“Oh, I know what I’ve never had,” you fall back and slump against the door, “you don’t need to keep reminding me.” 

A roiling silence fills the compartment. He exhales again and slows as his blinker clicks noisily. He turns onto the next road as you feel his anxiety. Or maybe it’s your own. 

“I’m sorry. I only want...” he trails of as he measures his words, “I want to take care of you. To give you all that stuff. I don’t want you to feel bad.” 

“I’m tired,” you snip and fold your arms. 

“Right,” he says tensely, “yeah, get some sleep. Easier to talk after.” 

Talk? You’re done talking to him. He only says the same thing over and over again.  

[xzaddyzanakinx]

I So, So, Right I pt.4

Stepbro! Anakin × innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The next few hours of your day were agonizingly boring, you had already paced around the entire house, called your friend to confirm she was still up for your hangout tomorrow, and taken a shower just to have something to do. Your hair wrapped up in a towel and a thin robe wrapped around your frame as you wondered back into the kitchen.

Opening and closing the fridge in hopes that the next time you open it a yummy treat will have magically manifested. Unfortunately the fridge had failed to conjure something, anything appetizing so you settled for leftover lasagna.

With your belly full you retired to your room, scanning your bookshelf and selecting a classic. Tossing it on the bed before digging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear.

“Cozy.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled out some fuzzy shorts, pushing aside everything else to find the matching shirt.

Huffing in aggravation you slipped on your underwear and the shorts while making the trip from your room to Anakin’s. It wasn’t uncommon for your clothes to get misplaced, sometimes when Anakin puts away the laundry he gets -alittle- impatient with folding. So he often ends up scooping what’s left in the basket into his arms and dropping it in the nearest dresser drawer.

Shuffling through the clothes you felt your hand touch something cool, curious to see what it was you pulled it from its hiding place. It seemed to be a trinket box, a deep blue hard plastic box with a very small latch. You popped it open and immediately recognized some of the items inside.

Movie ticket stubs, rocks you’d collected, the fancy coaster from the restaurant where you’d first met. A box of memories, a box of all things you. Your heart swelled as you picked up the items immediately remembering each moment connected to each precious keepsake.

At the bottom of the shallow box you found one thing that was unfamiliar. A tiny black velvet drawstring bag, hesitant to open it since you’d already invaded his privacy by opening the box in the first place. But what’s the harm right? You’d come this far… might as well take a look.

Carefully opening the bag, you turned it upside down above your open palm. Two metallic items clanked together as they fell into your hand. A simple but elegant ring and a tiny pendant meant for a dainty necklace. You clapped your hand over your mouth with the bag still between your fingers.

Hurriedly tucking the precious jewelry safely back into the bag and arranging the items in the box in the same places you’d found them. You tucked it back into its hiding place, shoving the drawer shut as if it burned you. Shaking out your hands you opened the next drawer and saw the shirt you were looking for laying right on top. Why couldn’t you have opened that one first?

Though the questions you really wanted to ask were ‘Why is his mother’s engagement ring in a box filled with things meant to represent you?’ ‘Where did the pendant come from? Who did it belong to?’

It had been two hours since your discovery and your nerves had finally subsided. You willed your mind to tuck those thoughts into the crevasses of your brain. It’s a trinket box, of course he’d put things like that in there! How silly of you to react in such a way!

You’d tried to read to put your focus into something else, but the words melted together on every page. You groaned in frustration, if only you’d done your own laundry last time! You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to dig through his clothes and you would’ve never seen the box.

Pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes and scrubbing until you saw colored dots. A nap. Yes, that’s what you need. A nice little nap to forget about your invasion of privacy and the troublesome things you’d discovered because of it.

You hopped up to close the curtains then got right back in bed. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and tucking your favorite stuffed animal under your arm, you tried your best to let sleep consume you.

Your blankets rustled, the mattress dipping under the weight of someone slipping into bed with you. Stirring slightly at the feeling of warm skin against your back, a hand stroking your upper arm slowly brought you back to consciousness. Your eyes adjusted to the dark room, only lit by the evening’s sun beams sneaking around your curtains and the bathroom light. Revealing the most beautiful soft smile on the lips of your love.

“Little sleepyhead.” He whispered, pressing his soft plump lips to your forehead.

You breathed in deeply, tucking yourself under his arm and pressing your nose to his neck. Drowning in the scent of his freshly washed hair and still damp body.

“Have you been home long?” You yawned.

“Nah, just about an hour. I didn’t wanna wake you up just yet so I had a bite to eat and a shower.” He nuzzled into your hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“You were gone soooo looong.” You groaned, “I was so bored.”

“My poor girl.” He laughed.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You pouted, pulling back to see his grinning face.

He leaned forward quickly to catch your protruding bottom lip between his teeth. Scrunching his nose and pulling gently, after releasing your lip he placed a soothing kiss over it.

“But it’s so fun.” He laughed.

“Yeah, for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no attitude.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, while his gaze stayed stern.

“M’sorry.” Looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I know you are princess.” he smoothed your hair back, twirling a lock around his finger and bringing it up to tickle your nose.

Something about his tone of voice, how he sounded so confident in that statement, made heat pool between your legs. You felt your cheeks blush, stomach swirling with nerves. Just as you were forming a sentence through the muddy waters of your mind, a noise made you both jump.

“Shit.” Anakin scrambled out of the bed, an obvious erection tenting his loose boxers.

It was Obi-Wan, treading down the hall, quickly glancing at your bedroom door you realized it was unlocked. Anakin had slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. You laid there, frozen in confusion, why had he run away like that?

Though you didn’t have too much time to wonder, because Obi-Wan’s fist was knocking on your door.

“Come in.” You said, leaning over to turn on your lamp light.

“Hey,” he peeked in, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm, I was just tired is all.” You answered, sitting up.

“Sorry to wake you sweets, your mom sent me up, dinner is ready. Do you know where-“ he started, interrupted by Anakin’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“There he is!” He laughed, bringing an arm across his body to ruffled his -now fully dressed- son’s hair.

Anakin gave you a sly wink over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Reaching around to flick on your over head light, flashing it a few times for good measure and earning a light scolding from his dad.

“C’mon, leave her be.” Obi-Wan laughed, headed back down the hall.

Anakin stayed in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“You heard the man, gotta leave ya be.” He shrugged, hiding a smile.

“Don’t say things like that!” You threw the nearest weapon you could find, a stuffed animal.

He caught it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor, his playful attitude dwindling. He walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted and let him pull you out of the bed, enveloping you in what would’ve been a sweet and comforting embrace if not for the words he whispered in your ear.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” His lips brushing your earlobe, “cause it seems like you are.”

“N-no! No I don’t want to!” You whisper shouted, eyebrows turned up in concern.

“My little good girl,” he tutted, gripping the back of your neck, “turned bratty the minute I showed you how I could make you feel.”

His face buried in the gentle slope of your neck, his fingers intwined in your hair tugging gently. His free hand sliding down your back to grip your ass and knead the doughy flesh. His tongue darting out to glide along the soft flesh, drawing a mewl from your eager body.

“I-I’m not a br-brat.” You protested, feeling weak in the knees already.

“Yeah you are.” He growled, pulling your head back by your hair, “but you’re my brat.”

A whimper escaped you, earning a dark chuckle from Anakin.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll help you be good again.” He released you from his strong hands.

“You will?” You asked, hopeful, disappointed with yourself for misbehaving.

“Of course babydoll.” He grinned, pointer finger hooked under your chin. “That’s what Daddy’s here for.”

Oh fuck, a gush of slick dripped from your cunt, wetting your panties. Daddy? Your eyes widened, in awe of how Anakin saying just one word could make you feel so, so many things all at once. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he expected this to be your response. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you with him down the hall.

Dinner concluded without any hiccups, that was until your mother suggested a ‘family movie night’. You couldn’t really say no, Anakin had bumped your foot and very slightly shook his head when you began to protest. Catching you at the sink where you stood scraping off the bits from your plate.

“If we both told them no they’d be suspicious.” He whispered, a hand sneaking to your plump backside, rubbing soothing circles with his knuckles.

“Why?” You asked, hearing the clink of your plate against the silverware in the sink.

“Baby,” he drew the word out, pain in his eyes, “you know we can’t let anyone find out about us.”

“But why?” You pouted, crossing your arms and stomping one foot.

His expression hardened at your defiance which you quickly recognized, fixing your posture and dropping your arms.

“Good girl.” He nodded, adding a sigh, “they won’t understand. No one would understand.”

“Is that why you ran away earlier?” You questioned, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek.

“I want to shout from the rooftops and let everyone know just how much I love you, but I can’t.” He pulled you in close for a tight embrace, cradling your head to his chest protectively.

A soft sniffle met his ears and his heart broke, shattered to a million pieces. This was so selfish of him and he knew it, he knew the consequences, he knew it was wrong. He couldn’t help it though, not when it comes to you. You with the gorgeous smile, the laugh that reminded him of fairy bells, the softness of your voice when you spoke to him in the cover of night.

That’s all you’d be able to enjoy, love under the blanket of darkness.

“Please don’t cry.” He whined and squeezed you tighter, “please, I can’t stand it.”

You simply nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose against his chest to wipe away the tears.

“I’ll find a way.” His voice strong and resolute, “I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

You both had missed the sound of slippered feet on the kitchen tile, only being alerted to the presence of another person when they let out a sharp breath. You felt Anakin’s muscles tighten, his heart quicken under the warm fabric of his shirt.

He was wracking his brain, to find an excuse and settling on the first thing that surfaced in the waters of panic. He twisted his body and yours in the direction of the noise, you could feel his chest heave in relief. He lifted his arm and brought his finger to his lips, half mouthing and half whispering to his father.

“Boy problems.” He wasn’t lying, he was just omitting that he was the offending boy.

Obi-wan tutted, coming forward to place a loving hand between your shoulders.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go get your mind off it huh?” He suggested, motioning to the living room.

You peeled yourself out of Anakin’s arms, allowing him to guide you to the living room, taking a seat on the plush carpet in front of the couch.

“I’ll get your mind off it.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

You giggled through one more sniffle, and Anakin left your side to grab two throw blankets. Throwing one over you and tucking himself under the other, with his back leaned against the front of the couch he took the remote and flipped through the streaming services.

With your parents settling in above you, you managed to enjoy your time. But of course, half way through the movie you let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Soon after your eyes fluttered closed, Anakin smiled softly at the sound of your tiny snores.

You were jostled around, feeling arms scooping you up. Anakin’s forearm hooked beneath your butt to support your weight and his other pressing your upper body to his securely. You stirred halfway through the journey up the stairs.

“Hmm?” You sleepily took in your surroundings.

“Shh baby, I’m just taking you to bed.” He whispered, pushing open the bedroom door, momentarily removing his arm to lock the door.

Gently he laid you down, rolling you to your side. Hazily opening your eyes you recognized that this was not your bed and you were not in your room. Anakin had put you in his bed, and he was now walking through the bathroom to your room, locking the door in there as well.

You sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes, groggy but conscious enough to speak when he re-entered his room.

“M’sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, holding out your arms and flapping your hands to beckon him closer.

He of course happily obliged, shedding his tshirt and pants on his way. Slipping into the bed next to you with a comforting hand to your cheek which you gratefully leaned into.

“My poor baby.” He cooed, leaning in to kiss the sleep away.

His lips slotted against yours and you tentatively returned the kiss, soon allowing him to deepen it when your body begged your brain to catch up. Snaking your arms around his neck earned a groan from his lips that were wrapped around your tongue, sucking gently.

Without breaking contact with your sweet mouth he pushed you into the mattress so that he was hovering above you. He spread your legs with a bump of his knee and you eagerly obeyed, allowing him to lower himself against your heated core. A sinful moan of yours was trapped in his mouth when pressed his already throbbing length into the apex of your thighs.

“Just woke up and already begging for my touch.” He snickered, sloppy kisses along your jawline as he snuck his hands under your shirt.

He placed a firm hand on your breast, palming and massaging it while using the other to guide your shirt over your head. With both breasts exposed he descended on them, peppering them with hungry kisses, suckling and nibbling on both nipples, unable to let one go without his attention for too long.

Keening and rolling your hips against him as he attacked your chest provided not relief at all, your body screaming for his eager mouth to travel lower.

“Ani.” You whined, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Not now sweet girl.” He mumbled against your supple flesh.

He smiled as he brought his teeth back down to the gentle slope of your breast, biting and closing his lips around you, tongue flicking against the skin once he released it from his teeth. He let his hands roam, exploring every inch of you. Making sure to find your hand often and give you a reassuring squeeze. His mouth finally delved lower, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake while it traveled the expanse of your abdomen.

“Gotta taste my sweet little pussy.” He groaned, hooking his finger in the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The animalistic noise he made when he spread your cunt open for him to see was nothing short of pornographic. Just the sound of him pining over your wetness was enough to make your hole flutter around nothing, making you feel hopelessly empty.

“Please Anakin, please I need it.” You begged.

“Need what princess?” He teased, his hot breath blowing against your cunt.

“Ani!” You pouted, slamming your fists down on either side of you.

“Hey.” He said in a gruff voice, warning you.

You stayed silent, gazing into his softening eyes, hoping your stare would be enough to sway him into giving you what you wanted. Slowly he did, introducing his lips first, chaste kisses from your mound down to your dripping hole. The tip of his tongue retracing those steps to elicit a soft and drawn out ‘oh’ from your kiss swollen mouth.

He gently delved deeper into your folds, humming at the taste of you. It was as if he enjoyed this more than you did if that was possible. From the way his breathing got heavier and the death grip he held on your hips you’d think he was the one writhing beneath you. Eating you wouldn’t be a good enough descriptor, he was - devouring- you, insatiable and aggressive.

His hot wet tongue breached your pussy and dove as deeply as possible, moaning in sync with you. His grip of your hips loosened, freeing up his thumbs to press into your hips, massaging them in circles, adding another layer of pleasure for you. You couldn’t help the trashing of your body, your fist abused by your own teeth and you bit down in hopes to stifle your cries.

“So good baby,” he groaned, suckling your clit, “doing so fuckin’ good f’me.”

“Mhm!” You squirmed, “I wanna be good for you Ani.”

“Shit. I’ll cum before you do if you keep talking like that.” He shivered, rutting into the bed.

He couldn’t let that happen, he needed your cum, he needed his lips coated in your juices like he needed air to breathe. He doubled down, rolling your clit between his teeth in such a way that the white heat in your lower stomach flashed with electricity, shocking your nerves with the sudden and harsh orgasm.

Your body convulsed as you buried your face into the pillow beside you. Painfully swallowing your cries, feeling your hot tears staining the softness of the pillow. Anakin lapped up everything you gave him, every drop coating his chin was licked up by his greedy tongue.

“God I could do this for hours.” He moaned, giving you no down time at all before starting again, the sensitivity made you hiss, kicking your legs involuntarily.

“M’not done.” He growled, holding your legs still.

He reached up beside you, taking the pillow from your face and folding it in half. Lifting your bottom with no effort and sliding the pillow under your lower back.

“What’re you doing?” You whined, trying to close your legs.

“Working this tight cunt open.” he moaned, his middle finger toying with your soaked core.

“Just one okay baby doll?” He asked, tearing his blown out pupils from your glistening cunt to look at you for permission.

Sighing in relief at your eager nod, he dipped the tip of his finger past your folds. Circling the hole gently, and moaning as he oh so slowly pushed into your virgin pussy.

“God.” He grunted through clenched teeth. “Look at my pretty pussy, all f’me.”

“All for you Ani.” You bucked up into his hand, begging for him to pump his thick digit into you.

“You want it? My baby girl wants me to fuck her open with my fingers?” He wasn’t asking, he was just trying to humiliate you.

“Yes!” You whimpered, clenching around him at his condescending tone.

“Squeezing me so tight darlin’.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Couldn’t even get another finger in.”

“Anakin, please.” You whined, “please I need more.”

At that he hooked his finger and began dragging the tip across the spongey wall of your pussy, drawing circles as he pumped in and out. Keening at the new sensation had you gripping the sheets hard enough to rip them.

“Can’t baby,” he moaned, “just gotta wait, be patient.”

“No. Anakin!” You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist.

His free hand blocking yours before you could even get halfway.

“Did you just tell me no?” He growled, you shook your head, desperate to shove those words back in your mouth and swallow them.

“You want more? Fine.” He said sternly, “I’ll give you more.”

He immediately started fucking his long digit into your soaked cunt with such fervor that you had to reach above you and grab the head board for support. Without missing a beat he came up from his resting position and towered over your small frame.

“Where did my sweet little girl go huh? It’s like you’re trying to get punished.” He sighed, as if disappointed.

Attacking your mouth with his, you could taste yourself on his tongue as it forced its way past your teeth.

And just like that, with your tongue trapped between his teeth to prevent you from screaming he wrapped his large hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply the second he felt your cunt clamp down on him. Drawing out your second orgasm with a ridiculous amount of force. Your thighs closing when he didn’t remove his hand, still pumping his finger at jackhammer pace.

“Don’t.” He broke away from your lips and wrenched your legs back apart. “You wanted more, so take it you fucking brat.”

“M’sorry Ani!” You whined, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck. “So sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Anakin dove into your neck, sucking in the gentle slope near your shoulder. He was ignoring you in hopes you’d keep apologizing, as disgusting as it was he was getting off on the sounds of your worried voice, it made him feel powerful. You were just his little puppet right now, and he was your puppeteer.

“I wanna be your good girl, please!” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Please don’t be mad with me Daddy, please I promise to be good.”

Just as he was feeling on top of the world with his baby girl trapped under his thumb, he was shrinking, melting from the one word you’d uttered like a prayer. His eyebrows shot up along with his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. He softened immediately, and you held back a smirk now that you’d discovered this was his weakness.

“Oh my pretty baby,” he cooed, his hand caressing your side lightly, “you are a good girl.” He leaned down catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Really?” You sniffled.

“Yes really,” he sighed, “my baby doesn’t need punishment does she?”

You agreed, shaking your head with a pouty lip and gripping his sandy locks between your fingers.

“Just need Daddy’s cock don’t you baby doll?”

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[pucked-bunnie]

not so bad ⎜j.drysdale

pairings: jamie drysdale x plus sized! reader genre: fluff warnings: mentions of injury ⎜ slight mention of body discrimination synopsis: after jamie was traded you finally made it to one of your best friends games - you didn't expect things to go so horribly. word count: 5k authors note: there are obviously a few discrepancies from the actual game when jamie got injured but this is what must happen for cute stories. (UNEDITED)

+

+

“And please for the love of god, Trevor, don’t forget to lock the door when you leave.” You grumble as you slide out of the passenger side, scurrying around to the trunk to retrieve your suitcase - Trevor already pulling the hard cased bag from the car, placing it on the side walk for you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think I can manage to look after your cat for a week.” He huffs, waving your off as you raise your brow at him. You had spent the last thirty minutes in the car making sure he knew how to care for your six month old kitten - despite the cat already being quite self sufficient and having an automatic feeder you wanted to make sure someone was checking on him at least once a day, hence your stressed instructions to Trevor on the drive to the airport. 

“Okay, I’m trusting you.” You say, pulling your keys out of your pocket and handing them over to the eager hockey player. 

“Me and bean are going to have so much fun.” He coos, shoving the keys into his pocket before reaching over and giving you a tight squeeze. “Make sure to tell him I’ll be watching his game.” He adds and you nod, squeezing him back before stepping onto the pathway pulling your suitcase with you as you watch Trevor pull away from the curb. 

You tug your phone from your pocket checking your flight information one last time before heading inside to check in. After Jamie had been traded almost a month ago you had been with little to no contact while he settled in to his new environment, both you and Trevor feeling the effects of your quiet best-friends absence. 

It was when you finally managed to catch Jamie between his schedules he invited you to Philadelphia to visit him, requesting your help in setting up his new apartment in the city - he luckily had managed to snag a fully furnished apartment - in his words it just needed a ‘piece of home’, so the two of you had quickly managed to book in a week for you to fly to Philadelphia. 

With Trevors reckless driving you had managed to make it to your flight with an hour to spare, taking your time at the cafe near your boarding gate to scroll mindlessly on your phone until you heard the first calls for your flight to board. With an estimated flight time of five and a half hours you were very glad for the kindle Jamie had gifted you at the last Christmas dinner. 

“I know we said we weren’t doing presents this year but I wanted to get you something I thought you’d find useful.” Jamie had whispered as he leaned over to your side as the conversation continued in the room. He placed the small wrapped gift in your lap with a nervous smile his eyebrows raised in anticipation as he waits for you to unwrap the gift. 

“I wrapped it myself.” He adds quickly, pointing out the red wrapping paper covered in Mario characters holding presents. You send him a quick smile before ripping the paper open gently - tucking the remnants into your bag to add to your keepsake box in the back of your closet - you pull out the amazon branded box looking down at the kindle now in your lap with a growing smile. 

“I know how much you love to read and my mum recommended this one.” Jamies explains before pointing to the torn box, “I already took the liberty to download some that my mum said you’d like and I put a gift card in the box so you can buy some more when you feel like it.” 

You can feel your heart beating against your chest as you look up at the sweet boy besides you, his hands fiddling in his lap as he waits for you to say something. “It’s perfect, Jamie.” You mumble, smiling at him with a short nod as you close the distance between you placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” You add shifting back in your seat as Jamie does the same a bright red tinge on his cheeks. 

That was almost a year ago and you had filled the kindle with over a hundred books since then, somehow managing to convince Jamie to get one for himself after he had listen to your high praise for the device. 

Sliding into your seat on the plane and placing your kindle on your lap you sent a quick message to your trios group chat. 

‘Princess Peach 🍑 : on the plane about to take off - should be there around six tonight.’ 

‘Mario 🥸: I’ll be waiting’

‘Wario 👨🏻‍🦲: me and beans are excited for you to be gone.’ Trevor sends with a photo of your kitten glaring up at the man, quickly followed by another message. 

‘Wario 👨🏻‍🦲: hey who changed my name.’ 

‘Wario 👨🏻‍🦲: I’m supposed to be Luigi.’

‘ Mario 🥸 : lol.’  You chuckle at the messages before switching your phone to airplane mode and tucking it into your pocket, sliding your headphones over your ears as the flight attendants finish their spiel on safety and move to their own seats. 

+

+

Six hours in a small seat trying to avoid making any contact with the person sitting besides you really has a way of stiffening every muscle in your body. You roll your shoulders as you wait for the others in your row to gather their belongings, deciding it best to wait for most of the flight to empty out before attempting to make your own way. 

As soon as you had turned off airplane mode on your phone, it had started dinging with messages. 

‘Wario 👨🏻‍🦲: I’m changing my name back.’

‘Wario 👨🏻‍🦲 has set the nickname to Luigi 👴🏻’

‘Luigi 👴🏻: that’s so much better.’ 

‘Mario 🥸 has set the nickname to donkey kong 🦍’ 

‘ donkey kong 🦍 : knock it off.’ 

‘ donkey kong 🦍 : @princess peach🍑 please tell him to stop bullying me’

‘Mario 🥸: she would never’ 

‘Princess Peach 🍑: I would never’  you respond quickly before deeming it time to grab your bag from the overhead storage and follow your fellow passengers off the plain, making sure to bid a quick ‘thank you’ to the flight attendants standing by the exit. Your phone dings again in your hand as you making it into the boarding area. 

‘bestfriend ❤️: I’m waiting outside your flights baggage collection - do you still have the white suitcase?’ Jamies message albeit simple gives you butterflies, the idea that after so long apart you were finally going to see him made you giddy. 

‘trevor’s bestie ❤️: yep, the one with the blue tag on the side.’  You send your reply frowning at the sudden change in nick name, Trevor must’ve have figured out your passcode again. You roll your eyes but tuck your phone back into side pocket of your leggings, pulling on the hoodie from your carry on, knowing Philadelphia this time of year was a lot colder than Anaheim. 

Jamie is easy to spot in front of the baggage carousel, his eyes focused on the passing bags as he waits for yours to slide past him. You watch him with a soft smile as he steps forwards to help a lady pull her oversized suitcase off the line before helping another lady besides her, nodding quickly as they thank him, stepping forwards once more to pull your bag off the line, placing it delicately at his side as he glances around the waiting area, pulling his phone quickly from his pocket his thumbs typing. 

‘bestfriend ❤️: I have taken your bag hostage - if you wish for it to be returned you must be in front of me in the next 60 seconds.’  Your phone dings with the arrival of the message, your feet moving quickly as you sneak up behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly once your reach him. 

“Miss me?” You question cheerfully, Jamie’s eyes widening as he turns around. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually get here this fast.” He says, placing a hand on his chest as he lets out a shaky breath, “Scared the crap out of me.” 

“Sorry.” You apologise waiting for him to move before deciding it’s best if you initiate contact. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you pull him in for a tight hug, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist as he hoists you up, his arms pulling you in even closer as your feet dangle off the floor.

“I personally didn’t miss you at all.” You chuckle into his neck as he sways a little his own face buried into your shoulder, you can feel the grin on his lips as he gently places you down on the ground, not quite letting go of you yet. 

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder a little more before finally pulling away, his hand grabbing for your suitcase as his other hand reaches out for yours. 

“Trevor wanted me to tell you he’d be watching the game tomorrow.” You say as you take hold of Jamie’s hand, letting him lead the way out of the airport. 

“He better be.” Jamie says, “he has nothing better to do these days.” 

+

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The drive to Jamie’s new place from the airport takes longer than normal, as he stops around to pick up a few bits a pieces to help make your stay with him more comfortable - snacks being his highest priority. 

“I know it’s not the fanciest but its cozy and it has two bedrooms so it was perfect for friends to come visit.” Jamie warns as he parks his car in the garage under his building. You’re quick to roll your eyes at his statement, if the outside of the building was anything to go by the apartment was going to be more than ‘cozy’. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You respond, undoing your seatbelt and slipping out of the car, dragging your backpack with you trying to make your way to grab your suitcase before Jamie could beat your to it. 

You’ll give him one thing, for how built he was, he could move faster then most people. Jamie grins as he pulls your suitcase from the trunk of his car, holding it in one hand the other grabbing for the grocery bags. “Too slow.” He teases as he shuts the trunk, guiding you to the elevator. 

You just watch as he gets in the moving metal box scanning his access key and pressing the tenth floor your reasonably heavy suitcase comfortable in his hand. “You know the suitcase has wheels, right?” You question. 

“Yep.” Jamie says quickly, nodding his head as he adds, “But how would I show off how strong I am, if I just wheeled it around.” His statement pulls a shocked laugh from you as the elevator stops announcing it’s arrival on the tenth floor. Jamie once again moves quickly walking to his door and pressing a few numbers into the keypad. 

“Not fancy, my ass.” You grumble as he pushes his door open, moving inside placing your suitcase by the door, and the groceries on the dining room table. 

“Welcome.” He exclaims arms out wide as he lets you take in his space. It was definitely fully furnished, the house looking like it came from a home decor magazine, but it didn’t have the comfort a home should have. Jamie had already started adding a few decorations of his own, his and Trevors ducks jerseys hanging side by side in large frames besides the living room T.V, a few photo frames with his friends and family lining the shelves besides the window. 

“This place is great, Jamie.” You exclaim, as you reach for your suitcase, lying it on the floor as you dig around for your present. “But you were right when you said it was missing something.” You continue finally grabbing hold of the rolled up fabric in your bag. 

You smile as you hand it to him watching the fabric unroll, the man looking down at the blanket in confusion. “Your mum sent me some of your old jerseys that weren’t going to any use, and Trevor asked the equipment manager if I could have some ducks ones as a parting gift.” You begun to explain, motioning to the logos from the jerseys of every team he had played on. “Most of it is made up of jerseys from your time with the ducks, and I had to buy a Philadelphia one to finish it off.” You finish motions to the orange square at the bottom of the blanket. 

“You made me a blanket?” Jamie asks quietly. 

You nod. 

“Out of all my old jerseys?” He asks again. 

You nod.

“Do you like it?” You asks slowly, watching his face for any sign of distain. Jamie glances towards you for a moment before taking off down the hallway, his feet sliding against the wooden floorboards as he enters the room at the end of the hall. 

“It’s perfect.” He yells, your feet moving to follow him. You glance around the corner into the bedroom, Jamie smoothing the blanket over his bed with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. “It’s perfect.” He says again. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it.” You respond, your hands clasped behind your back, “Now show me my room.” 

+

+

“Are you sure your okay to make your own way there?” Jamie asks as he straightens out his dark grey suit, his hair freshly washed and pushed away from his forehead. Your night with Jamie had consisted of Chinese takeaway and a lot of gossip about Trevors new girlfriend - the two of you eventually falling asleep on the couch while watching ‘love is blind’ on Netflix. 

You had woken up in the guest room, unsure how Jamie had managed to move you with such ease. 

“I’ll be fine, it’s like a ten minute Uber.” You reassure, reaching out the smooth out the collar on his shirt. Jamie was heading to the rink early as most players did on game day, wanting the chance to start warming up and checking their equipment. 

“Oh before I forget.” Jamie says quickly, reaching into his practice bag pulling out a large ID hanging on a lanyard. “I grabbed you one of these so you have access to the family room if it’s too overwhelming down near the ice, it also gets you free food at the concession stands.” He says quickly handing you the lanyard. 

‘Jamie Drysdale - Friends and Family - All Access’ Printed in large letters on the front, the lanyard covered in big block letters spelling out ‘VIP’ 

“You didn’t have to Jamie, you already got me those rink side tickets.” You complain looking down at the pass again. 

“Well I didn’t have to pay for this - and it’s just in case of emergencies, I don’t want you to get stuck with security if you need something.” He explains and you nod slowly, tucking the pass close to your chest as you glance up at him. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Meet me near the locker room.” He says softly, reaching forwards to tuck a lose piece of hair behind your ear. 

The silence is thick between the two of you - Jamie hand resting on the side of your neck as he opens his mouth to say something, closing it quickly after. He doesn’t say anything as he shoots you another grin, picking up his phone and keys by the door, quietly exiting his apartment. 

You let out a long sigh, the feeling of his hand still tingling on your skin. 

Now was probably a good time to get ready. 

+

+

You checked your outfit one more time in the mirror - the flared leggings doing wonders to make your legs look longer and slimmer, you favourite hoodie layered under one of Jamie’s new Philadelphia jerseys - usually you wouldn’t wear a jersey to a game often feeling they made you look awkward and desperate when hanging around with your two friends, but for the first game you were watching of Jamie’s in his new team you felt it was necessary to show your support. 

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, your grab the spare set of keys Jamie had left for you, tapping on your phone to order the Uber to take you to the rink. The car arrived quickly, game days often being a easy money making day for Uber drivers, the man greeting you and confirming your destination as you slide into the backseat of his car. 

“You a Philly fan?” The drivers asks as he glances at you in the rearview mirror. 

“Not really - I’m actually from Anaheim but my friend recently moved here and I just wanted to support him.” You explain the driving nodding before asking. 

“Your boyfriend, is he a player?” 

“Oh no, we’re just friends.” You correct the driver raising an eyebrow as he turns his gaze back to the road. 

“Not many friends would fly across the country to watch a hockey game.” The driver continues, a smile breaking out on his face as you stare like a deer caught in headlights. “Must be some friendship you two have.” He adds driving the needle further into your chest as you think about your friendship. 

The crowds begin to grow as you close in on the rink, the driver giving you a kind smile as he stops outside the front entrance. “I hope you have fun at the game.” The driver says as you swing open the back door, “Tell your friend how lucky he is to have you.” He adds as you shut the door, you can see him smiling as the car pulls away from the curb, shaking your head at the friendly mans antics. 

As you make your way into the building scanning your ticket at the front door - grabbing a quick bottle of water from a concession stand before making your way to your seat just in time to see both teams fly onto the ice for warm ups. Taking your seat you smile at the two girls sitting a few seats down, pulling your phone out of you pockets to snap photos of number 9. 

‘Jamie’s not-so-bestie 😈: snapped a few photos of our special little guy.’ You send the message to Trevor rolling your eyes at yet another name change in your phone. 

A hard bang on the glass has you looking up from your phone, Jamie staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Trevor.” You mouth his head nodding, as he flicks his puck into his hand, showing it to you before throwing it over the glass, the puck easily caught in your hands. Jamie watches you as he take a few steps away from your seat, handing it over to the girls sitting a little further away. 

“He wanted me to pass this to you.” You say as you hand it to one of the girls, both letting out high pitched squeals as they glance towards your best friend. 

“Where’s your pass?” He mouths through the glass, motioning his hands around his neck, your hand tapping your bag, pulling out one corner to show him where your stored it. He nods quickly, waving a quick goodbye as he skates away, doing a few laps around the ice before stopping to stretch closer to the bench. 

“I always knew Jamie would be into bigger girls.” One of the teenagers exclaims, both looking you up and down before leaning together and whispering. “She is really pretty though.” The others replies. 

You glance down at yourself with a sigh, settling back into your seat, your arms wrapped around yourself.  The game starts soon after the flyers and penguins taking to the ice in a close game. You watch on the edge of your seat as Jamie moves quickly around the ice - occasionally taking a second to respond to one of Trevors messages. The first period ends with the penguins ahead by one - Jamie exiting the ice with slumped shoulders. 

You knew how tough on himself Jamie could be when the game wasn’t going his way - and being on a new time, you could guess the pressure he was putting on himself was multiplied. Waiting for the second period you glance down at your phone, liking a photo on your instagram before a tap on your shoulder catches your attention. 

“So, do you know him or something?” One of the girls ask as she takes a seat next to you, her friend moving to sit besides her as they both wait for your answer. 

“Or something.” You respond, looking back to your phone as it dings. 

‘bestfriend ❤️: does the game look as bad as it feels?’ You move to respond before one of the girls asks another question. 

“So are you two dating?” She says and you shrug waiting as she adds, “you just don’t seem like the type to be with a hockey player.” Her friend slaps her shoulder as they both giggle, “You can’t say that.” He friend laughs as you just roll your eyes typing quickly on your phone. 

‘trevor’s bestie ❤️: the game is tight. You’re playing great.’ You send the message to Jamie. The two girls remain besides you as the second period starts, the flyers managing a goal to tie the game, the play moving fast as the penguins manage to score a third goal with less than nine minutes left in the period. 

You try to stay positive, hockey being a game where score reversals can happen so fast, the play restarting at centre ice the puck making its way back and forth on the ice before being hit high into the air. Jamie skates his way to the red line, swatting the puck back down to the ice before taking off with it. 

He gets past one penguin making his way into the offensive zone before he gets rammed into - his body hits the ice hard, you can see his mouth open in a pain filled hiss as he rolls to his side, his right hand gripping his left shoulder. 

“Shit.” You curse, jumping up from your seat as you watch him move. Jamie makes his way onto his feet, his left arm hanging limply by his side, the boy skating quickly off the ice into the locker room. You ignore the fans cheering as the two teams go head to head in a scrum, your mind racing as you take two stairs at a time. 

‘Jamie’s real bestie 😈 is calling.’ 

“Is he okay? What the fuck was that.” Trevor yells into the phone, as you speed walk through the building. 

“I don’t know - he didn’t look okay.” You respond stopping one of the workers who’s in a Philadelphia branded shirt. “Excuse me, do you know where the locker room is?” You question, the man looking at you with confusion as you fish around in your bag, your phone still pressed to your ear as you grab hold of the VIP pass. 

“It’s his shoulder, Trev. It looked dislocated.” You say into your phone as the man walks quickly with you behind him, stopping outside a roped off area, whispering quietly to one of the security guards who slowly walks away. “I’m going to see if I can check on him.” Trevor swears a few times before making you promise to text him once you know if Jamie is okay, the two of you ending the phone call quickly as the security guard comes back. 

“We don’t let most people in the locker room.” The security guard says quickly and you nod. “Can I see your pass please.” He adds quickly, handing over the lanyard and pass as he glances over it. His eyes widen a little as he sees the players name on your pass before handing it back to you. 

“What’s your relation to the player?” The security guard asks and you hesitate. 

“His girlfriend.” You splutter out the guard nodding before holding up one of the ropes for you to slip under - he motions for you to follow behind him as he walks to the entrance of the room, holding out a hand for you to stop. 

“We have someone claiming to be Jamie’s girlfriend outside, she wants to come in.” You heard the guard say into the room, a few people mumble back words of confusion and disagreement with letting you inside. 

“Let her in.” Jamie voice cuts through, before he lets out a painful whimper, “Please.” He adds quickly. You don’t wait for permission, rounding the corner to walk into the locker room, a small gasp escaping you as you take in Jamie. His eyes are squeezed shut as the trainers work carefully to remove his pads, his shoulder clearly out of it’s socket. 

Jamie lets out another yelp as they lift his arm to unclip the chest pads, both trainers apologising as they gently place it back by his side. You take a few steps forwards, Jamie’s eyes opening at the sound of your approaching, his bright blue eyes finding yours as he reaches out his right hand. 

“Oh Jamie.” You sigh as you take his hand in yours, your other reaching out to move his hair out of his face. He lets out a long sigh as he turns his head to face your, burying it in your stomach as he lets out a long groan as the trainers rotate his arm slowly, your face scrunching in a grimace as you watch the joint slide back into place, your hand stroking gently across his hair. 

Jamie lets out a sigh of relief as the trainers drop his arm into his lap, the joint now comfortable back in the socket. “Are you okay?” You ask, Jamie just nodding his head against you, his body melting into your side as your hand moves from his hair to rub soft circles on his back. 

“Lucky for you Jamie, I think we’ve saved you a trip to the ER.” The trainer says pulling out a triangle bandage, making quick work of wrapping Jamie’s arm in a sling “Bad news is you’ll still have to go to the hospital for an X-ray to make sure everything is where it is meant to be.” The trainer adds, finishing off Jamie’s sling before turning to you. 

“Are you in a position to drive him over?” The trainer questions and you nod quickly, “We will ring ahead to try and get you two in and out as quickly a possible.” You thank the trainer, before moving Jamie’s head away from your body, crouching down in front of him. 

“Do you wanna get changed before we go?” You ask, Jamie just nodding slowly, his eyes shooting over to the equipment manager already holding a fresh set of clothes. “I’ll wait outside, okay?” You reassure pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before leaving the room. 

‘Jamie’s not-so-bestie 😈: He’s okay, left shoulder was dislocated but one of the trainers managed to get it back in, so we’re heading to the hospital to get a quick X-ray.” You send the message to Trevor, your gaze lifting from your phone as Jamie trudges out of the locker room, his arm tight in his sling, a black hoodie thrown on with a pair of sweatpants. 

“They know you’re coming, just go straight to the imaging wing and give them Jamies name.” The trainer explains, handing Jamies backpack to you with a gentle smile. He pats Jamie on the back before heading back into the room. Jamies free hand reaches out to grip yours, pulling you in the direction of the parking garage. 

“Thank you.” Jamie says quietly as you reach his car, throwing his bag in the backseat before helping him slide into the passenger side. 

“Theres no need to thank me, Jamie.” You reassure, racing around to get into the drivers seat. As soon as you’ve reversed out of the spot, Jamie’s hand finds your again, his fingers laced with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand softly. You glance over at him every now and then, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw tight as the car jostles him. 

“We’ll be home before you know it.” You coos, trying to drive as smoothly as possible. 

+

+

Jamie’s trainer was right, the trip to the hospital couldn’t have been more then an hour, the doctor giving Jamie the all clear to go home with some pain relief and instructions for strict rest, he would be in touch with the Philadelphia team to decide on a treatment plan. 

Jamie is silent as you drive the two of you back to his apartment, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way into his apartment moving him over to the couch in front of the TV. 

“I’m gonna grab you some food and water so you can take your pills.” You say quickly, but Jamie just shakes his head, his hand squeezing yours as he pulls you back to him. 

“Just stay.” He says softly, “Sit with me for a little.” He adds, his head falling to your shoulder as you take the spot besides him on the couch. Both your hands clasp his, fiddling with his fingers as his breathing slows. 

“Thank you.” He says again. 

“You really don’t have to thank me, Jamie. It’s what friends do.” You respond, the boy letting out a scoff. 

“Most friends wouldn’t fly across the country to watch a hockey game.” He sulks, the words from your Uber driver earlier ringing in your ears. 

“I guess I’m not like most friends.” You coo, a smile lighting up on Jamie’s face. 

“I guess not.” He says softly before asking, “So, are we like offical now or something?” The words making your snort as you glance down at him. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You… Me… Us. You said you were my girlfriend.” He explains, his words gentle as he shifts his head against your shoulder, your eyes meeting. “I really want you to be my girlfriend.” He sense the way you hesitate, quickly moving to take back his statement. 

“Isn’t it obvious Jamie?” You ask, “would just a friend really fly six hours just to watch a hockey game?” 

[youcouldmakealife]

David/Jake; all eventualities

Another Kickstarter fill, for the prompt: David showing commitment to Jake

It comes up at dinner with Jake’s sister. The Lourdes are very — candid with one another, David finds. Initially he found it uncomfortable, even sometimes alarming, but now he’s mostly used to it. Still, he didn’t expect Natalie to casually bring up making a will while twirling spaghetti on her fork.

“I know most people put it off,” she says. “But when kids are in the picture you can’t, you know? You have to make sure they’re taken care of. Not just financially, but you have to think of that too.”

“For sure,” Jake says. “You do know I would—“

“No, I know,” Natalie says, waving Jake away with her fork. “Still. I have Allie and Serge as guardians. No offence to you guys, obviously, she’s just, you know, already a mom. What’s one more, right?”

David is pretty sure it’s a little more strenuous than that, but then, he isn’t a parent, so maybe he's wrong. Jake doesn’t look offended, and David’s too busy suddenly considering the possibility of Jake having custody of his nephews, as small as it may be. He hadn’t really thought about it before, not even as a distant possibility.

“But you guys are the back up,” Natalie says.

“Sweet,” Jake says, completely unfazed, while David spends the rest of dinner methodically cutting his spaghetti down into smaller pieces.

“You know it’d never happen, right?” Jake says on the drive home.

“Hm?” David says.

“Me getting guardianship,” Jake says. “Nat’s just being thorough, checking all the boxes.”

“Oh,” David says. “I know.”

“You looked a little worried,” Jake says.

“I wasn’t worried,” David protests.

Obviously, that wasn’t true, but as David thinks about it more that night, Jake asleep beside him, he realises Jake’s right — the chance of both Natalie and Allie being unable to care for the children are infinitesimal, orders of magnitude smaller than the odds of, say, a collision each time David gets in a car. And that risk doesn’t stop him from getting into one almost every day.

But if David did get into a collision — and that would be the most likely cause of his premature death, statistically speaking — he wouldn’t have a will of his own. David likes to think he’s a responsible adult, and his bookkeeper praises his record keeping, but apparently that doesn’t extend to planning for the end of his life. It’s not like he’s never considered making one, given that he’s in a career where a shortened lifespan is unnervingly common, and just because he’s emerged from it more unscathed than others doesn’t necessarily mean he’s escaped long-term consequences, but it’s just — uncomfortable, he supposes.

If Jake died — David doesn’t even like thinking about it, but if he did, and he didn’t have a will, then his money would surely go to his family, and that seems right.

But if David died without a will? It’d probably all just go to his parents. He doesn’t think Jake would fight it, even if he had far more right to it than either of them.

He’d say it didn’t matter, that he had enough money, but it isn’t just money, is it? It’s David’s money, but it’s also property, furniture, keepsakes, from his Gold medal down to his pyjama shirts, plastic cracked and cotton faded. The things that belong to him — but if he isn’t around anymore, they’re Jake’s if he wants them.

*

“I want to write a will,” David says, after he thinks about it a few days, makes a preliminary appointment with an estate lawyer. He doesn’t think it’s a particularly inappropriate moment, sitting on the couch, half watching the news, waiting for the weather forecast, because Jake wants to go for a drive this week, maybe take a picnic basket along, but Jake turns the TV off, looking alarmed, so perhaps he didn’t choose the right one.

Or, well, David supposes he’d be alarmed if Jake suddenly announced that as well. Wonder if something had happened. If he had cancer, or—

“I don’t have cancer,” David says.

Jake looks, if anything, even more alarmed.

“Or anything else,” David says. “At least as far as I’m aware. I just — remember what Natalie said? About making a will?”

“Oh,” Jake says, and blows out a relieved breath so big it makes David startle.

“I haven’t made one myself,” David says. “Which was irresponsible of me.”

“I mean, I haven’t made one either,” Jake says.

“I’m not calling you irresponsible,” David says.

“No, I know,” Jake says. “Maybe I should, though.”

“I thought — if you were —“ David says. “If something happened, your family would get your money, right? And that’s how it should be.”

Jake’s frowning again, and David talks faster so he can hopefully explain himself before Jake misunderstands him again.

“If I didn’t have a will, my money would go to my parents,” David says, and the frown’s gone again, replaced by something closer to — it isn’t pity, David thinks. Hopes, at least. “Your family, they’ve been — supportive of you. Present. My parents — they don’t deserve anything of mine.”

“No,” Jake says. “They don’t.”

“So I think I’d like to make a will,” David says.

Jake reaches out, squeezes David’s hand. “Sounds like a good thing to have, just in case.”

“Yes,” David says. “Exactly. Did you want to — should we check the weather?”

“Okay,” Jake says, and when he turns the TV back on, the forecast sprawls across the screen, all sunshine.

“Good weather for a drive,” David says.

“Perfect weather,” Jake says, and squeezes his hand again.

[etherealising]

chapter four | to burden natalie berzatto

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: platonic!natalie berzatto x f!reader | slight carmen berzatto x f!reader | slight the bear crew x f!reader | male!oc x f!reader |

summary: your lack of competent decision-making after mikey’s death puts natalie in a compromisng position.

warning(s): substance abuse | overdose | grief | self-sabotage | angst | humor as coping mechanism | one mention of ativan | unintentional self-harm | blood | hospitals | scars | mention of treatment centers | rehab | recovery | thoughts of relapsing | appreciation of natalie berzatto | avoidance of grief | selfishness | memory loss | unhealthy grieving mechanisms | PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

wc: 8.1k

please remeber you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any warnings trigger you DO NOT READ!

The smooth music filtered out of the record player, a rich voice singing through the house painting the atmosphere with a calm vibe. The two occupants were gathered in the living room, sifting through the last of the boxes that contained small decorations and keepsakes. Discussing what would look best where and what should have been left behind in the move.

You looked over your shoulder to check on Nat, her sudden silence cause for concern. Circling over to her you realized what had stolen the words from her lips. You maneuvered to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the framed photo in her hands, the two of you silently reminiscing.

You placed your head on her shoulder as she let out a quiet sniffle, her emotions heightened due to her condition. “You looked so beautiful that night,” you let out a quiet laugh before moving to stand next to Nat, eyes still focused on the framed Polaroid in her grip.

It had been a year and it still wasn’t easy to look at any pictures of Mikey without feeling like your chest would cave in. You hadn’t seen this particular picture since his passing, the grief too much, all memories painting your west coast apartment shoved into a nondescript box.

You understood now why it was so important to label your boxes when moving. If the box in front of Nat had some type of label on it, you knew for sure it already would’ve been shoved into the dark recesses of your closet.

“You can just put that one back in the box,” you left Nat’s side to continue going through your box, pulling out the book designated to sit on your coffee table.

Natalie watched you from her side of the living room, a small scowl painting her face as she watched you so easily disregard a memory that had once been so special to you. She looked back down at the picture, your bright smile staring back at her as Mikey and Richie leaned in to kiss your cheeks. A fond memory of the three of you the night of your senior prom.

Looking back at you one last time Nat let out a sigh before walking over to the mantle and setting it on the corner, visible for everyone to see. She understood how much Mikey’s death affected you, but there was no way you could heal from the hurt if you never allowed yourself to live in the uncomfortability of grief. It was something you had to want for yourself.

Nat had half the mind to keep digging through the box, eyes catching on another memory. Not wanting to sour the first night in your new home, she replaced the cover, doing her best to act as though she wasn’t curious about the box of memories.

The doorbell rang as you were looking for a place for the picture of you and your mom at your college graduation. Carefully sitting it on your coffee table you made your way to the door making sure to grab your wallet on the way. You opened the door to see the pizza delivery person standing there, giving them the money and a tip before thanking them.

“Oh that smells delicious,” you laughed as Nat followed behind you to your decent-sized kitchen. The two of you grab plates and a slice of pizza before heading to your couch.

Setting your plate on the coffee table, you left to quickly grab two wine glasses and the sparkling cider Natalie and Pete bought you as a housewarming gift. Stopping to grab a bottle of water from the fridge for Nat just in case the cider upset her stomach before taking your seat on the plush couch.

“I’m happy you’re home Baby.” Your eyes met Nat’s before you moved to pour yourself a healthy amount of sparkling cider, ignoring Nat’s laugh at the full glass in your hands. You raise your glass in a mock toast, at least one of you was happy that you were back.

“I guess it's good to be back. Nice to be around people that care about me,” the grateful smile sent Nat’s way as a form of thank you.

Natalie deserved more than a pathetic smile and both of you knew it.

You had been relatively alright after Mikey’s death, which came as a surprise to everyone. Your impromptu stay in Chicago after the funeral was a way for you to keep an eye on Natalie and Donna, occasionally helping Richie at The Beef when you could.

But you had to return to your own life eventually, and when you did shit spiraled out of control for you.

People always drone on and on about the five stages of grief and how it affects everyone differently, and you never thought that statement to be more true than when you stepped foot in your apartment upon your return from Chicago. Grief is supposed to come and go, you were doing everything that everyone was telling you to do. Following all the steps, checking all the boxes. Forcing yourself to try and heal, to feel your emotions as much as you would allow yourself to.

But at the end of the day, it was just you, an apartment full of memories, a voicemail you were too scared to ever listen to, and the shadow of your grief following behind you.

You experienced all the denial, anger, bargaining, and depression and you waited and hoped for the acceptance to come. But all that ever came was the cycle of grief replaying in your life like a bad dream.

You had thrown yourself into your work, anything to forget about the pain Mikey’s ghost left behind. And when your psychiatrist recommended a prescription to aid with your anxiety, you accepted. Anything to escape the shadow of a man you once knew appearing in your apartment on late nights.

But then the prescription wasn’t enough, and the alcohol you once used to numb everything had lost its edge, your days just turned into functioning as best you could. And then there were times you couldn’t even remember the previous day, the last five minutes, falling asleep on the couch.

You had become dependent; dependent on the alcohol and the drugs, and the way they made things all better for a short time.

And then you had woken up in the hospital one day, with no memories of how you got there, no care for what happened to you.

The figure in the chair next to you helped you to escape the fog in your brain. The woman you had known your whole life looking down at you with a tear-stained face, her hand tightly clutched around yours, her presence all the more confusing.

The silence in the room was too loud for you as you just watched the blonde, the lack of emotion on your face breaking the woman down even more. When the doctor came in to explain what happened it shocked you. Not because of the severity of the situation, but because you couldn’t remember a thing.

The theory was that you had been mixing prescription drugs and alcohol for some time, a truth you already knew and were purposely partaking in.

You were at your apartment after work winding down from the long day, pregaming for a night out with your co-workers. The Ativan you had taken earlier at work already put you at ease. You were trying to get to your patio for some reason but had trouble with the sliding glass door.

Too inebriated to unlock it you had essentially thrown yourself against the glass until it finally gave way to the weight of your body and you ended up face down covered in glass and the pool of your blood.

Not fazed by your injuries you collected yourself, glass and all. Grabbing your keys from the counter leaving to whatever destination you had in mind. Somewhere between removing yourself from the mess of your ruined sliding door and stumbling out into the hallway, you swallowed two more pills.

According to the reports, a neighbor found the mess of your body in the hallway, making it a mere few inches from your door before your body succumbed to the deadly cocktail swirling inside you.

In October of 2022, 8 months after Michael’s death; you would overdose.

You were broken from the haze of memories as you felt a dip in the couch. Natalie came to sit right next to you head resting on your shoulder, you gently laid your head on top of hers. You owed Nat your life.

A quiet sniffle left you, losing the battle to keep your emotions under wraps. “You’ve done so much for me Sug, and I…I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you enough appreciation.” You felt Nat’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you into a side hug as the two of you sat in each other’s presence.

It was no secret that without Natalie and Pete, you might not have been experiencing this moment. You for sure wouldn’t have gotten your shit together if you were still all alone on the West Coast. Nat had gone out of her way to find the best treatment facility on the East Coast for you, it had been decided that you would make the move back to Chicago when you were released.

So while you were away facing the consequences of the darkest moments of your life. Nat was at home picking up the pieces of your life while also trying to keep hers intact, not that you realized or cared back then.

Nat and Pete sold the family home that was still in your mom's name, nobody needed to ask to know that it wasn’t healthy for you to live in or across the street from a museum of memories. The couple got you a good deal on a quaint home not too far from them, the leftover money put towards the rest of your savings.

Natalie Berzatto, a miracle worker in your eyes had somehow pulled strings to get you an interview with the Tribune. So yeah, you owed Nat a lot more than placating smiles and cheap pizza.

“Are you sure you’re ready for tomorrow?” You shifted positions at Nat’s question, the two of you now sitting criss-cross applesauce, facing each other on the couch. You gave a small nod, fingers playing with your fuzzy socks.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” you let out a small laugh. “I can’t expect you and Pete to babysit me forever.” You smiled up at Natalie, the prospect of writing again caused a sense of excitement to stir within you. It felt like the only thing you had left, the only thing you were still good at. Although you had almost completely fucked up your life, you still had your writing, and that was a start.

“Maybe we can meet up for lunch after?” You didn’t want to celebrate too soon, you hadn’t even got a job yet, but the idea of a lunch date with Nat sounded like the best form of indulgence you had allowed yourself in a while.

The night continued with the two of you talking, Sugar doing her best to catch you up on all that you missed sans any mention of a certain blue-eyed baby brother she had. As the night began winding down the two of you cleaned up the mess of your dinner, before you sent Nat on her way with promises to fill her in after your interview tomorrow.

Making sure your kitchen was cleaned to your liking, you made your way into your room to begin settling in for the night. A knit crew neck you had meant to return to its rightful owner once upon a time, becoming the basis of your pajamas after a relaxing shower.

Settling into bed you couldn’t help but lie awake, mind racing with all the different scenarios that could play out tomorrow. This was your first night alone in your new home and the reality of just how alone you were slowly began to sink in. You knew Nat would always be there for you if need be, but she had her own life to live, the beginnings of a family in her near future.

All you had at that moment were your racing thoughts and the regrets of a life you had almost ended too soon.

You sat in the lobby of the Tribune leg bouncing nervously as you waited for your meeting with the editor-in-chief, resume, and copies of your work sitting snugly in your tote bag. You knew Natalie had already sent over your information, but your nerves forced you to believe that being over-prepared would be necessary.

The sound of the receptionist calling your name caught your attention. She was standing a little ways away from you waiting for you to follow her, you gave a nervous smile before rising from your seat and following the rhythmic click-clack of her heels down the hall. As you watched her walk in front of you, you thought you may have been a little underdressed in your casual street clothes, but you forced yourself to push your thoughts aside. They’d be judging you for your backlog of work, not your choice of attire.

The receptionist lead you to a corner office, the frosted glass of the exterior providing a sense of privacy. Ushering you into the empty room she let you know that the editor you’d be meeting with would join you shortly. You sent her a small thanks before walking into the room, eyes catching on the minimalistic decorations scattered around the office.

Your feet lead you to the wall of windows situated behind the desk, the view reminding you of an office you had occupied so many months ago. You looked out over the Chicago skyline, it still felt so surreal to be back in this city.

The face staring back at you something you were still learning how to get used to. The scars that decorated the right side of your face were healing up nicely considering how deep some of the glass had gone.

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, someone entered so swiftly you hadn’t even heard them, or maybe you were just too wrapped up in memories of a past life. You hurriedly turned from the window not wanting to seem rude, the man who had entered the room caught your eye before gesturing for you to take a seat at one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

You felt a little less concerned about your fashion choice as your eyes followed his Levi-clad legs as he settled into the chair behind his desk. You could feel your nerves returning, not knowing what to expect from this interview. In the most humble sense you had forgotten what being interviewed felt like, not having to go through the process since getting your first big journalist job straight out of college.

“Nervous?” Your leg stopped bouncing as the man’s voice met your ears, a shy smile curving your lips.

“Here I thought I was being subtle,” you tried to joke hoping to relax yourself a bit. The responding chuckle helped somewhat, so far the man sitting in front of you didn’t seem like too much of a stickler.

“Never thought I’d see the day you were nervous in front of me Baby,” you tried to control the look of disgust you felt begging to paint your features. You were grateful for Nat’s help but you were sure this was a mistake.

“I’m sure HR has their hands full with you.” You mumbled, the roll of your eyes showcasing your irritation. “Thank you for the opportunity sir, but I don’t think this is a good fit for me.” You reached out to the chair next to you where you had sat your tote bag wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“No wait,” the sound of the rolling chair moving rapidly caused you to stop, seconds away from rising from your chair. You turned your attention to the figure in front of you eyebrows pinched together.

“It's me, Hayden,” your brows furrowed even more, your mind searching your memory for that name. “I…uh, I took you to senior prom. We met in our creative writing class that same year.”

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’, eyes darting to the pristine nameplate facing you on the desk. The name ‘Hayden Ivanovski’ staring directly back at you.

“No fucking way.” The whisper traveled easily through the silent office, Hayden’s echoing chuckle caused you to let out a small one of your own. “I’m sorry, it's just nobody but close friends and family even call me that anymore. And, I really wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You watched as he nodded, you could see it now. The boy you once knew in the maturity of his face, hadn’t changed much but it was enough that you wouldn’t easily recognize him if he passed you on the street.

“Uh, the porn stache sure is a uh choice,” your hand raised to gesture to your upper lip, you couldn’t help the smile curving your lips.

Hayden laughed head dropping as he resumed his seated position. “Divorce makes you do crazy things,” your smile faltered, you hadn’t meant the quip as an invitation to discuss any personal grievances. “No need to look so sad, it was mutual.” He shrugged the topic off like he hadn’t given it a second thought in a long while.

You nodded your head distractedly, “Enough about my failed marriage, how have you been?” You gave him a small smile, mind going blank as you thought of the best route to take this conversation.

“I uh, almost died five months ago,” the laugh ripped from Hayden’s chest, the last thing you were expecting to hear. You watched as he found your eyes, his smile disappearing as he took in the harrowing look on your face.

“You-you’re not serious are you?” The question almost caused you to laugh.

“As serious as my overdose was,” you watched as Hayden shifted in his seat, the air easily became uncomfortable. “Sorry coping mechanism.” You laughed the topic off, you had assumed Nat told him when she booked you this interview.

“So um, when does the interview start,” your leg began bouncing up and down again, the nervousness returning. If you hadn’t already made a bad impression you were sure exposing your less-than-stellar life choices definitely lost you the job.

“Nat didn’t tell you?” You stopped your brows from pinching together, the constant frowning sometimes the tiny scar between your eyebrows. “I don’t need to interview you, you’re an amazing journalist. I hired you the second Nat told me you were moving back. That is if you want to work here.”

“You’re not just hiring me because we went to prom together, or as a favor to Natalie are you?” Nat had helped you to get your foot in the door, you had wanted to secure the job because of your merit.

You watched as Hayden quickly shook his head, “While it is nice to reconnect with you, we need some experience in our newsroom. I know before your uh… incident you were working as a travel journalist, and the pay here wouldn’t be the same. But you’d still have full control over the stories you write, although you might not write as often as you’re used to.” You nodded along listening to his explanation. The fact that this was happening failed to resonate with you.

“So, the position of Managing Editor is yours if you want it.” Hayden sent you a small smile awaiting your response, he did his best not to focus too long on your scars as he stared in your direction.

“As long as I can write and edit then I will happily work for you,” the large grin spreading across your lips stretched the small scar stitched into your upper lip.

The smile on Hayden’s lips matched yours as he walked around the desk to shake your hand. The two of you sat there going over the expectations that your new role required, Hayden explaining the environment he tried to uphold at the paper.

You finished the meeting off with a tour of the floor the Tribune occupied, the one you’d mostly be working on. The two of you caught up a little as he input you into the system and created your badge so you could easily come and go as you pleased. You learned that he married Marlene Buchanan, a girl you went to high school with. The ink of their divorce still drying after only being finalized two months ago.

He invited you out to lunch but you had to rain check explaining the plans you made with Natalie promising the two of you would work something out in the future. He walked out with you, the two of you parting ways once you left the lobby.

You stood on the sidewalk taking in the crisp Chicago air. Your life was finally starting to feel like your own again, and even though you had only secured a job, the inevitable weight of doom that followed you was beginning to feel a little lighter.

Natalie was pacing in the office quickly moving to close the door as the chaos sounding through the building caused a headache to form. She knew Cicero would be there in the next hour, and that the money problem was their biggest issue in getting the new restaurant up and running.

The urge to call you was immediate after speaking with Cicero. Nat knew how much you cared about this place, and regardless of what anyone else thought she wanted you to have a say in any decision they made now that you were permanently back in Chicago. And she’d be lying if she said the reserved funds that came with you weren’t also a reason to invite you to this meeting.

Shouts could be heard through the door as she finally made her mind up, you two had plans for lunch anyways so you could just meet her and the two of you would leave together. Any excuse Nat could think up to call you would help her.

Sighing she scrolled through her contacts before forcing herself to press on your name and just call you. She listened as the phone rang, part of her hoping you didn’t answer her call, the hope immediately dying as your voice sang through the speaker.

“Nat, hey! I was just about to call you,” She smiled at the light tone in your voice, a tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time. “We still on for lunch?” The question caused her to take a deep breath, it was now or never she either asked you or she didn’t.

“Yeah of course. Uhh but would you mind meeting me at The Beef?” She was hoping the question came across as nonchalant, she called out your name as the line went quiet, sure you had hung up on her.

“Nat, I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” the apprehension in your voice made her feel guilty for even asking you in the first place.

“Listen, Baby, I know how you feel but we’re making a big decision today and I feel like you deserve to have your input heard,” she waited for a minute before continuing. “If it triggers you we can leave immediately, no questions asked okay? I just…this might be good for you.” She bit her lip as she waited for your response, she would be okay with whatever you decided but at least she had put the opportunity out there.

“I think I can be there in 45 minutes,” the tired sigh that escaped your lips matched the way Nat was feeling.

“Thank you, Baby.” She listened as you said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Nat was sure if she didn’t already have morning sickness she would’ve thrown up from that phone call alone.

It was exactly as you remembered it. Not that you had expected the exterior to change in the year since you’d been there. Although not physically changed things felt different, it no longer felt nostalgic as you stood there looking at the newspaper-covered windows. You could feel the anxiety eating away at you, the sick part deep inside of you wishing you had something to numb your feelings.

You could hear the faint sound of an alarm blaring with how close you were standing, the sound helping you to focus on the things you could control. You hadn’t come all this way just to look at the old building’s facade, and part of you didn’t think you could take disappointing Natalie by walking away. Nat wouldn’t have been disappointed in you though, but since your accident, you were scared to ever see that look in her eyes again.

The deep breath of fresh air filling your lungs helped to cool you down a bit. The pairing of your puffer jacket and scarf felt a bit suffocating.

In through your nose out through your mouth, a few more deep breaths were all you allowed yourself before forcing your hand to grip the door handle and step foot into a building that might haunt you for a lifetime.

The constant screeching of the alarm was so loud it made you glad that it drowned out the sound of the bell ringing above the door. Your eyes traveled around the restaurant, it was the same but it wasn’t. Little things missing telling you that some type of work was being done.

“As I live and fucking breathe!” The loud voice you would recognize anywhere drawing your attention to the dining area, Richie’s large figure taking up the doorway.

You shared a small smile with him. Subtly adjusting your scarf to cover the most noticeable scar lining your face, you watched as the older man took steps to close the distance between the two of you. The tall man quickly pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed a hug from Richie until you were snuggly pressed against his chest, the warmth of his body helping to relax you. The unconscious thought crossed your mind that you might have never experienced one of these hugs again if you hadn’t made it to the hospital in time.

The love Richie was pouring into the hug caused your eyes to water, Mikey’s passing bonding the two of you, the loss of someone you both loved so much bringing the two of you impossibly closer. But not close enough for him to know the path you had taken after. And not close enough for you to want to burden him with being just another addict in his life.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head before pulling away, the annoying alarm still blaring at full volume. You stepped back to give him space, “You been fucking around in the crawl space Richie?” The question paired with your signature grin as Richie let loose his boisterous laugh.

“Of course, you’d fucking know about the alarm.” Richie’s disgruntled mumbling met your ears.

“Hey, Richie, could you please turn that goddamn motherfuckin thing off?” The voice of Cicero filtered through your ears. “It’s making me insane!”

“My bad Uncle J, Baby just walked through the door and shit like a ghost. Fucking Mikey booby trapping crawl spaces and shit.” He poked his head back into the dining room to let the occupants know he somewhat had the situation under control.

“Mikey’s fuckin Kevin McCalliper-,” The responses correcting Richie caused you to let out a small giggle, the noise bringing a smile to Richie’s lips.

You continued standing with Richie as he spoke to somebody on the phone, the long one-word password he gave made you chuckle. Pretending you knew how to help Richie was an excuse to not join the conversation going on in the back for a while.

While the blaring alarm was causing your ears to ring, the loud noise was a buffer between your impending thought and the inevitability of being back in this restaurant. The sudden quiet was the only sign that you would have to face a now unavoidable situation.

“Here lemme take that,” Richie reached out expecting you to give him your scarf and jacket. You hesitated, your wardrobe feeling like a sense of armor for the time being.

“Uh, I’m actually pretty cold. Thanks, Rich.” Your hand shot out to pat his bicep, head jerking in the direction the voices were coming from. “Sugar in there?” You didn’t need Richie to reply to know the answer.

You followed Richie’s lead as he headed to the back, taking a deep breath to still your nerves, not all too sure what you were getting yourself into. You watched as Richie pulled up a chair next to Cicero for you, taking your tote bag out of your hands as he gestured for you to sit. You smiled politely, giving him a small nod as you moved further into the room.

Three out of four familiar faces stared back at you, the look on Nat’s face indicating how much it meant for her that you showed up.

“What is this an intervention?” You made the joke as a way to cut the tension that had filled the room, the silence felt even louder as Nat said your name in a reprimanding tone, the joke not being funny to her one bit. You shrugged before moving to sit in your designated chair, shooting a small smile to the dark-skinned woman who was eyeing you from across the table. Your eyes easily avoided the blue ones you knew too well.

You listened as Nat cleared her throat, all attention focused on her. “So uh, I invited Baby here because I think she deserves to be a part of this decision.” Four eyes flashed to you as you awkwardly adjusted in your seat. “And, um she has a decent savings account.”

A snort left your lips at Natalie’s rushed words, her ulterior motives for inviting you here reminding you a bit of her mischievous brown-eyed older brother.

“Sorry uh, big fan of your work. But uh, how do you play into all this.” Your eyes drifted to the unknown woman, a smile played at your lips, a feeling of shyness sweeping across you at the fact that she had any idea who you were.

“Family friend.”

“Old acquaintance.”

The three other people at the table looked between you and Carmy, eyes darting back and forth at both of your explanations. You couldn’t help the cackle you let out, missing the look of panic shooting through Natalie’s eyes. You couldn’t recall a time you would ever describe your relationship with Carmen Berzatto as an acquaintanceship.

“Baby is a close family friend,” Nat interjected before any other response could be given. “A friend we should be thankful for even considering investing in the restaurant.”

Your eyes finally found Carmy’s having a hard time taming the smile threatening to spread across your lips. The false confidence you were exuding helped you not overthink the situation you were in.

The conversation picked back up where it had left off after you entered. You sank into your seat shoving your hands into your jacket and tucking your chin into your scarf as you did your best to pay attention. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel across the mostly empty dining room, memories of a life that no longer felt like your own clawing to overtake your senses.

Up and down, up and down. The tick you gained while in recovery helped you to remain in the present your leg working overtime as it bounced to keep you focused.

The voices talking around you are drowned out by your wandering thoughts. Thoughts that had you re-evaluating your relationship with Natalie.

It was no secret that you had become a selfish person after Mikey’s death, every decision you made was to benefit you, and if someone else somehow benefited from it then good for them.

That was the reason you stayed in Chicago so long after the funeral, telling yourself that the remaining Berzattos needed you, that you were staying to make sure they made it out of the deep end alive.

But that was a lie, you stayed because you were too afraid to face your own emotions, afraid to face your grief head-on. Even now you could say you stayed behind to ensure Donna and Sugar were okay, but deep down you knew that you stayed because you didn’t want to be alone.

You helped Richie at The Beef because he needed you, needed to know he wasn’t alone. In all actuality, it was you who needed them, you who had become dependent on people grieving just as much as you.

The same could be said about your substance abuse after returning to your reality. The idea of never being able to talk to Mikey, see Mikey, or hold Mikey was all just an excuse you used to justify your indulgences.

You constantly told yourself that it wouldn’t be fair to burden Sugar or Richie with your hurting, that they didn’t need to babysit you while trying to heal themselves. That when your memory became spotty and you missed more than one of Sugar’s calls, it was because she didn’t need to put up with you and your problems.

And then unintentionally or not, you became Natalie’s problem. Not even letting her brother’s grave grow cold before you forced her to face the idea of losing another person she spent her whole life loving.

You pleaded with the universe for Nat to wipe her hands of you. To let you waste your life away and rot like you were starting to. To turn her back on you, because how could you so easily fall into the same vice as Mikey knowing how much it affected him; knowing how much it affected the people who cared for him.

How dare you pretend as though no one would give a shit if they had to bury you mere months after putting Michael to rest. How fucking dare you be so selfish.

There were nights in bed where you’d lay awake questioning your intentions. Had you purposely thrown your life away because you knew Natalie would come to your rescue? Did you somehow manipulate Natalie’s good nature into digging you out of a hole you were so far gone in you couldn’t bring yourself back from?

You always got on Natalie about putting herself first, and how she needed to stop stretching herself so thin for everyone else. And then you went and almost fucking died, and you forced her to take on a role she had been playing her whole life.

You had willingly ruined your life and forced Natalie to face the consequences.

If there was one thing you learned in your recovery, it was that getting clean, staying clean, and becoming a healthier better version of yourself should never be done for someone else. You had to want it for yourself, but damn if seeing Natalie’s face didn’t push you to get your shit together you weren’t sure what did.

“500,” you weren’t sure where the confidence to speak up came from, not even entirely sure what the balance in your savings account even was. Your unfocused eyes now staring directly into Natalies. “That’s my offer.” You quickly glanced around at everyone else unsure as to what they were even talking about but needing to put your stake into the game.

“Like $500..or,” your attention turned to the other woman, her voice trailing off indicating that she indeed was asking a question.

A chuckle parted your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean 500K.” You made sure to look at each person across from you individually, instilling how serious your offer was.

“Bullshit.” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, sure he had been speaking this whole time but it's not like you were paying that much attention.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in tandem with the sound. “I thought you needed money Carmen,” the name slipped through clenched teeth. You turned to face Nat. Your final numbers would be decided between the two of you, “Nat?”

“100.”

“450.”

“120.”

“375.”

“200,” you hesitated for a minute. The triumphant smile on Natalie’s lips caused your eyes to narrow.

“250, or I walk.” You leaned forward hands moving to lay flat atop the table, a small smirk played on your lips. Your leverage was total shit and Nat knew that there was no way you’d walk away from this project.

“Deal.” The smile on your lips faltered as you faced Carmy again, his annoying crystal blue eyes staring daggers into you.

Clearing your throat you slumped back in your seat, hands moving back to hide inside your pockets. The meeting finished on a good note without a hitch, with the restaurant gaining an extra 250K to put toward inevitable expenses.

You quickly stood from your seat moving to escape any awkward reunion that may have sprouted between you and Carmy. The interest in meeting Carmy’s partner was pushed to the back burner as you made your way through the restaurant, looking for the one other person you wanted to speak with at the moment.

Maneuvering through the kitchen you found Tina not too far from what you remembered to be her usual station. You leaned against the wall watching her work, the effort she was putting into saving burnt and rusted pots bringing a small smile to your face. You shrugged off your jacket and slipped the scarf from around your neck.

“Need some help?” The hesitation in your voice was evident. You weren’t sure where you stood with Tina, you knew how she felt about Mikey and how much his choices affected her. The thought of relaying the past few months to her was too much for you to think about at this moment, you had time, and when you were ready you would confide in her. But for now, there was no point in ruining a much-needed reunion.

You watched as Tina jolted, not prepared to hear your voice. “Ay, dios mío!” Tina turned to you hand raised above her heart, eyes wide. “Why the fuck are you sneaking around the kitchen.” You listened to the older woman’s voice scold you before making your way in her direction.

Not giving her another second before throwing your arms around her, you probably should’ve made sure it was okay, but there was nothing like a mother’s endearing hug to let you know that everything would eventually be okay.

The two of you stood in each other’s embrace in the middle of the kitchen. Neither of you said a word as your quiet sobs began to echo off the walls. You were crying for Mikey, and for yourself, and for all the lives the both of you had ruined, whether they knew it or not.

You were apprehensive to step foot back in this establishment so soon. But it had easily shown you all the things your life would have missed out on had you not allowed Natalie to get you the help you needed.

Carmy’s head perked up as he noticed you exit the kitchen with Tina. His irritation began to rise as he laid eyes on you, Sugar had blindsided him with your arrival. He hadn’t even known you moved back to Chicago, let alone that you had any interest in getting The Bear up and running.

You looked different. His eyes immediately caught the obvious scar tracing along your jaw. The tip of it started a few centimeters below your chin before meeting your jawline and finding its end just before your ear. It was a gnarly scar and he knew for sure the amount of stitches you needed must have been painful.

Carmy was also sure you didn’t have that scar a year ago, nor the smaller one that was carved into your upper lip. He would’ve taken notice, you can’t spend 48 hours with someone and not be able to recall all the puzzle pieces that were specially made to create them.

He watched the two of you approach the group at the counter, you hanging a little farther back than probably necessary, pretending to occupy yourself with the bare walls. Carmy might’ve smiled at your awkwardness if he wasn’t so confused by your presence.

A distracted farewell to Tina left his lips as he tried not to be so obvious in his study of you. His eyes refused to meet Sugar’s as he could feel her watching him, watching you.

Sydney’s return gained his full attention, forcing himself to focus on something else other than his thoughts that were racing and full of you. The clearing of your throat as you finally made your way to stand next to Sug had all six sets of eyes focusing on you.

You didn’t just look different. From the very few interactions the two of you shared and Carmy’s constant people-watching, you seemed like an altogether new person, the confidence and surety he was used to seeing in you was dull.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I was kind of hoping I could take on a more involved role in all of this?” Carmy’s eyes squinted as your hand raised in a flourish to signify you were talking about the restaurant.

You were met with silence. Carmy was too distracted by being in your presence after a drought without you, and Sydney still hadn’t even been truly introduced to you.

“Shit, sorry.” Your hand shot out to shake the woman’s hand as the two of you introduced yourselves. Although she read your articles, mostly your profile stories highlighting various chefs, it was different to be formally introduced to the person behind the stories.

“I uh, actually read most of your articles.” Carmy watched as you brightened up a bit your writing something that would always bring you joy. “I had to cancel my subscription though.” The sound of your laugh went straight to Carmy’s heart, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the delicate sound until hearing it again in this moment.

“I actually have a proposal for you three,” you paused, making sure everyone was paying attention before continuing your explanation. “What if I highlighted the renovation? I was..uh…before,” you had to stop yourself and take a deep breath to ground yourself.

“I was profiling The Beef and Mikey before he…yeah. Um, so I was thinking I could maybe continue that with The Bear,” you stopped to make sure everyone was following along, sending Carmy a small smile before continuing. “We could profile the team, give people a behind-the-scenes look into the renovation, and who’s behind it. I would publish it, it would be great PR and might help to fill seats.”

The following silence made you feel insecure about your proposal. “Maybe just give it a thought. No pressure or anything uh just let me know if there's any interest.” Your voice trailed off as your confidence continued to plummet, Carmy’s blank eyes doing nothing to quell your nervousness.

You turned your attention back to Sugar, a silent plea to leave in your eyes. She nodded “Uh, Baby and I had plans so we’ll be heading out.” You sent the two chefs in front of you a forced smile before hurriedly returning to the kitchen to pick up your jacket and scarf you left there. Call it cowardly but slipping out through the kitchen’s back door seemed to be in your best interest.

The fresh air whipped against your face like a blade, and the immediate change in temperature helped to relax you. There would never have been a perfect time to make your return to this restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t how you things to go, but you felt an immense pressure off your shoulders.

The hard part was over, you made it through the door, walked past the remnants of Mikey every time a specific spot reminded you of him.

It wouldn’t always be like today, you knew that. Some days would be harder than others as you worked through your struggles and allowed yourself to feel the loss of Mikey. One step at a time, it was cliche but it was really how you had to live your life from now on.

Being around Carmy would continue to be hard for the time being. You had essentially watched his brother deteriorate, watched as his mind no longer became his own. And you too had almost become a victim to the whims of your drug-addled mind.

You wouldn’t force a relationship with him and would make him privy to your shortcomings when you were ready. But you told yourself you would be okay if he wanted nothing to do with you, the choices you made would not be easy to come to terms with. And if Carmen Berzatto decided he was finally done with your constant disappointment in his life, you’d just have to accept it.

The sound of Natalie’s footsteps pulled you from the labyrinth of your mind, a small smile sent her way as the two of you made your journey far from this lot of memories.

Carmen stared at the outlines they had hung along the walls, eyes following along with tasks that needed to be completed to open in six months.

He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little bummed out that Sugar returned to the restaurant without you. Any small glimpse, or interaction he could get with you he would swallow like a man starving. The chef stood there doing his best as his counterpart gushed over meeting you, doing his best not to cringe at his two worlds colliding.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he could keep it professional while you worked alongside him on the renovation. Sure you would be doing your own thing in tandem with the work that would get done. But surrounding himself with you in an already stressful time in his life and an even more stressful environment wasn’t something he was prepared for.

He let his mind wander, thoughts of what happened to you in the year since your visit drowning him. Carmy had no clue what happened after you left that night, no clue what had seemed to connect you and Sugar more than you already were.

Seeing you again made his chest hurt. Seeing you was like a hot poker being shoved through his heart, unbearably comfortable but all so warming at the same time. He wanted to know you, know what had changed you since the last time his fingers had traced your skin.

Carmy knew the two of you were nowhere near as close as you had once been. Unsure if you’d ever share a connection like your past one. But he knew while you were here, in Chicago, surrounding yourself with him, the two of you would be given equal opportunity to put this years-long game of cat and mouse to an end; it was just a matter of who bit first.

a/n: well…here we are. i know this might read like baby’s life is just gonna be sunshine and rainbows from here on out but i can promise its not. she is a deeply flawed character with a lot of shit to figure out and a half baked relationship with everyone’s favorite chef won’t fix that. i’ve been around addicts my whole life so i have an understanding of what they can be like, i want to iterate that in no way am i romanticizing addiction. my personal experiences with functioning/addicts DO NOT make me an expert on this topic in anyway, but i do use those experiences to write for baby. i’m always here if anyone needs to talk. i hope you all enjoy <3

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder

unable to tag: @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[knitmeapony]

So the day that I let Frank go, I knew it wouldn't be good for me to just sit around the house all day miserable. So I booked myself a little pottery class and learned how to use a pottery wheel again and made this little vase. They let you pick what color they would glaze it for you, and I chose this yellow because of course, because it made me think of him.

So I added the lettering to the front and I made a little bouquet of fake dandelions, because he was my little lion face, and some dried flowers from the lovely bouquets that people sent me, and then printed up some tiny little pictures of him so I can change them out by the season.

So I have this little stack now, of the flowers and then this little ceramic cat shaped dish that was his food dish for years, and his ashes, and a little box of keepsakes that includes some of his fur and paw prints. Right now it's on the shelf of his cat tree where he loved to sleep the best.

At some point I'm going to have to get rid of the cat tree - I bought it for the old apartment and it never really fit in here, but he loved it so much that I never wanted to get rid of it. So I think I need to either build or find a shelf that will enclose this little stack very nicely, and once I do I'll put it in a place of honor in the house and finally get rid of his cat tree.

[dollhouse-lied]

Creepypasta headcannons i have

Tw: sh mention, murder talk, sex talk (light)

Jeff the killer

He comes off extremely rude and he is, what you see is what you get with him

He is the definition of a pervert, almost obsessed with sex. Hes extremely non committal, but he has enough respect for his hookup to let them know that its not anything more than a hookup to him

He is very unkempt, rarely showering. Because of this he REEKS of axe body spray. Shower in a can.

His clothes all have some level of blood or dirt on them, he only washes clothes when they are borderline unwearable.

He will never admit it, but he has a soft spot for animals. However, if he comes across a hurt animal, he will “put it out of its misery” even if the animal could live.

His room has piles of random things hes stolen from his victims, including a box full of family photos. His reasoning is that he doesn't want the victims familys to have any keepsakes. The rest of the creepypastas think its weird.

He spends most his days laying in bed on his phone or playing video games with ben, waiting for night so he can go pick out and stalk his victims.

He puts great care into choosing his victims, mainly choosing the ones who look like they could put up a fight. He lives for the struggle, feeling that adrenaline rush and satisfaction for when he finally kills them

Eyeless jack

Hes a sweetheart to those he cares about, choosing to spend his time around people he knows. He comes off very stoic, but in reality he just doesn't know how to interact with people.

He has a large knowledge about medicine and how to treat wounds that has made his room very popular in the mansion. He offers his services for free, but he doesn't offer any numbing or anesthesia if you happen to need something like stitches.

He is very quiet, only speaking if he has something important to say.

He doesn't quite know how to keep a romantic relationship, but he tries his best. He is devoted to his partner, treating them like a god/godess.

His victims are all women, particularly pretty women. He enjoys breaking something delicate and fragile, cutting them open and displaying their pretty organs.

He likes to “play” with his victims, often splaying them out like an art piece with the organs he doesn't eat hidden around the house.

His room is oddly neat, with little bloodstains or dirt. He hates messes, obsessive over keeping a steril environment for his “patients”. He doesn't even eat in his room, fearing a spill.

Ticci toby

Toby is…. something alright.

He is the definition of bipolar, switching between happy and bubbly to homicidal and aggressive at the drop of a pin.

He is usually found up in a tree, watching the forest. He takes comfort in knowing that the world goes on when hes not there.

He is suicidal, but usually takes out his emotions by hacking up someone. Murder is his favorite coping mechanism, treating the victims dismemberment as a sort of “play therapy”

He doesn't have a favorite type of victim, but he does tend to kill more men than women, rarely choosing to kill children. They scream too much.

His partner, if he was stable enough to get one, would be treated well enough, receiving gifts and little signs of affection. He isnt the touchy feely type, as he cant really *feel* it. It might be nice for the partner, but toby isnt THAT considerate

He keeps his room clean, but it does get messy when hes having a down swing.

He is kind of a hoarder, having shelves full of various trinkets and rocks he likes.

He also has a book of pressed flowers, as he feels safest while in nature. The natural world is beautiful to him, keeping him sane.

Ben drowned

Ben is a little shit. Poltergeist is the best term to describe him, constantly tormenting the residents of the mansion by messing with their electronics.

He can fly, but it takes effort, something ben doesn't really like to put in. He walks most the time.

He can enter people's electronics at his whim, pissing off everyone with his antics

He loves going through peoples cameras and inserting himself into the photos while in the digital world, as well as deleting random apps

He loves anime, often putting the shows on 1.5x speed so he can watch quicker. Hes totally a weeb, having posters of attack on titan and jjk up in his room

Speaking of his room, its a disaster. He hasnt cleaned it in god knows how long and it stinks like ass covered up by the cherry incense he lights.

He isn't interested in romance, it has never occurred to him that someone may be interested in him.

Hes very self centered, doing most things soley for his benefit.

He doesn't really like killing, as it takes too much energy. He would rather play video games instead.

He doesn't have to eat, but he chooses to anyways. Why not when food tastes so good?

Sally

She might be only a child, but shes not stupid. She knows that she is looked at like a stupid child so she uses that to her advantage.

She is absolutely ADORED by slender, having tea parties with him whenever she can. She sees him as a father, calling him “dad” at times.

Her room is full of stuffed animals, as she finds comfort from having them to protect her while she sleeps.

She has frequent nightmares, often waking up shaking and crying. She runs to maskys room when this happens, as she knows he will protect her. They usually end up watching tv on the couch where sally falls asleep, causing tim to carry her to her room.

She doesn't like killing, as it reminds her too much of her past. Slender refuses to have her do anything but what she wants, so she gets to be at the mansion all day, going out with the proxys to the store if needed.

Masky

He is totally hooked on cigarettes, smoking almost a third of a pack a day. He knows its bad for him, but its one of the few things that brings him joy.

He has restless leg syndrome, constantly bouncing his leg while sitting. It pisses jeff off for some reason, but to be fair everything tim does pisses jeff off.

You will often find him sitting by a body of water as he finds the sound soothing. It acts as an escape from his horrible intrusive thoughts.

He really is slenders lap dog, despite how much it irks him. He cant help it, where else is he supposed to go? He has to help slender to keep himself safe.

He always is slightly cold, wearing two layers and gloves. It pisses him off because people (jeff) are always making comments about it

He sees toby as a kid, not really realizing how much it pisses toby off. Masky feels like a parent to him, but toby sees tim as nothing more than an adult trying to control him.

His room is full of various posters of his favorite bands, specifically deftones. He keeps it tidy, but theres always a slight mess that he claims he knows where everything is, but he constantly is losing something.

He likes killing, but its also just a job. He doesn't see his victims as people, but as an obstacle he has to eliminate. He prefers killing sex offenders, as he sees it as a good deed to the world, as well as because of sally. He can't imagine a child like sally getting assaulted, so he takes them out in the most painful way he can think of.

Hes not gay… but hes definitely not straight. He cant imagine having an exclusive partner, but an open relationship would be nice.

Hoodie

Hes quiet, but he listens. He knows all the drama in the mansion, despite not personally knowing most the people involved.

Most people forget he exists, which is exactly how he wants it. Hes not one to get in anyones way.

He loves sally, giving her gifts, flowers, anything she wants. Sally sees him only as tims friend, not really as a caretaker.

He constantly gets on maskys nerves by taking his things and using them, placing them back in a place he knows tim will look and know it was moved.

He has feelings for tim, but doesn't quite know how to express them, so he just plays little pranks and smacks his ass. Thats his idea of flirting. Tim doesn't find it funny.

He loves weed, and smoking a blunt in the woods is his ideal night. He always smells like weed, which is part of why sally doesnt really like him.

Hes a clean person, keeping his room comfortable and in order. He showers a little too infrequently, sometimes having greasy hair for a couple days too long.

He has a mild drinking problem, but he is aware of it and is trying to cut back, choosing to smoke instead.

Clockwork

BAD BITCH ALERT!!!

She's muscular, but mainly trains for strength instead of looks. She exercises obsessively, bordering on unhealthy amounts.

Shes a total gym bro, drinking protein shakes that she keeps in the mini fridge in her room specifically so no one steals her food.

She and nina are best friends despite being polar opposites. They work out together, nina usually tapping out long before clockwork does.

She is brash, not afraid to speak her mind or punch someone if needed.

She hates all men, but can tolerate masky, hoodie and toby. They treat her well enough, respecting her boundaries.

She loves killing men, joining tim when he kills child predators. She knows not all men are bad, but that doesn't really matter. A man is a man, and she doesn't like them.

She loves sally, but keeps her distance. She doesn't want to be seen caring for anyone, despite desperately craving love and attention.

She wishes she could trust enough to have a partner, but she lets her fear get in the way when she has a chance. She ruins he relationships on accident without really knowing why. Its just instinct to isolate herself.

Her room is clean, clothes organized by color and a mini kitchen in the corner. She often cooks for her best friend nina.

Nina the killer

Shes THE scene queen.

She feels stupid for ever idolizing jeff after realizing who he really is so she strives to prove she is better than him.

Slender loves her, admiring her drive and ability to preform well in missions

She is especially skilled in stalking, watching her victims for days before hand

She uses social media to find victims, catfishing men and women to meet her and then killing them in their own home.

Her favorite method is strangling, as she feels it proves how strong and capable she is. She is right.

Her natural hair is light brown, but she dyes it black and pink every 2 months.

She has freckles, but she covers them up.

She spends most her days stalking or on her phone, calling people shes catfishing for hours.

Clockwork tries to pull her out of her room but after 5pm it's impossible to get her out without a food bribery.

She definitely has borderline personality disorder, but she has a handle on it. Her favorite person right now is clockwork, and when she splits on her, clockwork takes it calmly and lets her cool off. Nina always apologizes and appreciates clockwork for her patience.

She does self harm, but usually bullies herself out of it because “thats cringe”

She wants a relationship, but refuses to acknowledge that shes a lesbian.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Saving People -2-

Thank You For The Request @deanwinchestersgirl8734

Idk if you can but can you do a dean and 911 crossover fic like dean comes to get the reader like he did Sam but finds the reader is a firefighter and friends with buck

Supernatural/911 crossover count me in!! I had so much fun writing this one. I hope this is what you were looking for 🤍

P.s - I did tag my Dean girls. I understand it's a crossover, so if you don't want to be tagged in this mini series just reach out 🤍

Summary: Saving People, Hunting Fires. That's your life now. An open armed welcoming from the 118 helped you put hunting and Dean in your past. 2 years later John Winchester goes missing, of course he tracks you down for help. Warnings: Language, Spoilers, Angst, Jealousy, Talk of sexually assaulting a car, Gunshot Wound. Talk of heartbreak and being unfaithful. I think that's it. If i missed any let me know. Word Count: 3,791 (i know, i blame Dean!) Master List Tag List

Part 1

“So, you’re really just gonna leave?”

“Buck, they are like family. I can’t say no. If Maddie walked through that door right now and said Evan, I need you.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Buck protested. You raised your brows at him. “He’s just going to do it again you know.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Deny it all you want. You’re going to fall for him again.”

“I’m not going to fall for him again,” you mocked his words, rolling your eyes.

He stared at you.

“Evan I’m not going to.”

He sighed, “At least tell me you’re going to be back by Monday.”

“Shit.”

“y/n you really forgot?!”

“I didn’t forget, there’s just got a lot going on right now.”

“Well, if you miss it.”

“Buck, calm down I won’t miss it,” you cut him off.

“Just be careful,” His voice was softer as he pulled you into his embrace. “I really don’t want a repeat of 2 years ago.”

You hugged him back. “It’s not going to happen.”

"Oh, baby girl." you said turning onto the highway. "It has been way too long."

Dean's eyebrows raised as you rubbed the steering wheel "Uh, if you are planning on sexually assaulting my car, I get to watch."

You laughed. “Don’t worry baby, I won’t let him.” You whispered, making him smile.

Dean popped in a cassette tape and started playing the drums on the dash as Enter Sandman starts to play.

Miles later, you pass a sign that reads Jericho 5 miles.

“Have you called the hospital and morgue?” You asked Dean, turning the radio down.

He looks at you, an unamused scowl on his face. “Of course I did.” He pulled out his cell. “I guess that was a week ago. I could check again.”

“Yes sir, thank you.” Dean hung up. “No and no.”

Dean points off into the distance, “Check it out.” Your eyes follow his finger, finding a bridge with several cop cars parked every which way, lights flashing.

“Pull over darlin’.” He tells you once you get close. He opens his glove box, pulling out his wooden keepsake box. “What I.Ds did you bring?”

“I got FBI, DEA, and Marshals.” You grabbed them out of the side pocket of your duffle.

“Marshals it is, Lets go,”

You and Dean walk into the crime scene like you own the place, you walk up to the victim’s blood covered car, where 2 sheriffs are talking while they do their inspections.

“So, this kid Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?” you hear one of the deputies say as you approach.

“Yeah.”

“How's Amy doing?”

“She's putting up missing posters downtown.”

“You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?” Dean asked interrupting their conversation.

“And who are you?” Deputy Jaffe asks as he looks over at you.

You and Dean hold up your badges.

“Federal marshals.” Dean announces.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” Jaffe comments, looking over the badges.

“That’s sure kind of you sir.” You flash him a flirty smile” But you did have another one just like this, correct?”

You see Dean roll his eyes as the deputy smiles back at you. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road.”

“So, this victim, you knew him?” you asked.

Jaffee nods. “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

“Any connection between the victims,” Dean asks, circling around the car, inspecting it. “Besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“Did you guys come up with a theory yet?” you ask

Dean completes his search and steps up beside you.

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” the deputy explains.

“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I’d.” You elbow Dean in the stomach, cutting him off.

The deputy furrows his brows.

“Sorry about him. “You flash another coy smile and the sheriff mimics you, “Thank you for your time gentlemen.” You say as you start to walk away.

Once you get to the end of the bridge Dean pokes your side.

You glare at him.

“So, you can elbow me, but I can’t poke you?”

“They were already suspicious Dean, you could have blown it running your mouth.”

“Please, the way you were smiling at him, he wasn’t worried about anything else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever Winchester.”

“Trust me sweetheart, with a smile like that, you could get anything you wanted.” He said opening the driver door of the impala.

‘Yeah, not anything.’  You thought sliding into the passenger seat.

You spot a teenage girl walking along the street hanging up missing posters. “Dean. I bet that’s her.”

“Yep.” He agrees, parallel parking in a spot nearby.

“So, you gonna give her some of that Dean Winchester charm?” you asked as you walked in Amy’s direction.

“Nah”

“Hi. You must be Amy.” Dean says as you approach her. “Troy told us about you. We’re his aunt and uncle. I’m Dean this is my wife y/n.”

‘Damnit’ you thought as your heart fluttered at his words.

“He never mentioned you to me.” Amy stated, as she continued hanging posters.

“Well, that's Troy, I guess.” You said as you follow her, “We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.

“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Another young girl cut Dean off, giving Amy a hug.

“Yeah. Thanks Rachel.” Amy sniffles as her friend holds her. They both look at you and Dean. “You mind if we ask you a couple questions?” You ask

“You guys want anything to drink?” you asked the girls as you sat down in the booth.

The waitress walked up “Soda is fine.” Amy said to her.

“Same.” Rachel agreed.

“2 coffees black.” Dean said as the waitress looked over at you.

“Thank you.” You said as the waitress nodded.

“I was on the phone with Troy.” Amy blurted out “right before it happened. He was driving home. He said he would call me back, but he never did.” Rachel rubbed her shoulder as her eyes started tearing up again.

“I’m sorry Amy. I know its hard.” You tried to comfort her.  She gave you a weak smile. “He didn’t say anything strange or out of the ordinary?”

The waitress brought you drinks and sat them down “You guys want anything to eat.” She asked.

Everyone shook their heads. “I think we are good. Thank you.” Dean told her, handing her a credit card.

“Not that I remember.” Amy told you after she had a drink.

You and Dean looked at each other as you sipped your coffee.

Dean sat his mug back on the table. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So, if you've heard anything...”

The girls looked at each other.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Well, it's just...” Rachel stammered.  “I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”

“What do they talk about?” you and Dean asked in unison.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered on Centennial, like decades ago.” Rachel explained “Well, supposedly she's still out there.”

“She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.” Amy told you.

“Thank you.” You said as the girls got up and left.

“So wifey. You think we should check it out.” Dean smiled as he put his arm around you.

“Well local legends are kinda of our thing, pookie.” You played along resting your head on his shoulder.

You heard him inhale loudly.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Mmhm.”

Standing behind him, you watch as Dean types "Female Murder Hitchhiking" into the search engine.

0 results found pops up.

He replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway"

0 results found pops up again.

“What if it wasn’t a murder.” You lean on his back, your arms reaching out to the keyboard in front of him. You replaced ‘Murder’ with ‘Suicide’

1 result found popped on the screen.

Dean tilts his head, looking up at you, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a genius?”

You smiled at him “Not today.”  

Dean cleared his throat and looked back at the screen. You jumped back and pulled up a chair beside him.

“It was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.” Dean told you.

“Does it say why she did it?” you asked.

“Yeah.” His eyes scanned the screen. “About an hour before they found her, she called 911. She left her 2 little kids in the bathtub alone for a second and when she came back, they weren’t breathing.”

“Damn…” you whispered.

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Dean read out loud.

You looked at the picture. “That’s the same bridge.”

“Yep.”

“So, this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean remarked as you both looked down at the water.

“Really?”

“What?”

You chuckled. “Nothing. So, you think John was here?”

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” He said as you start walking along the railing.

“Alright, so what does the great Dean Winchester have in store next?”

“Now we keep digging until we find him. It might take a while.”

“About that.” You stopped. “I have to be back by Monday.”

“I thought your Captain said.”

“I have a Lieutenant’s test. If I don’t take it on Monday I will have to wait a whole year.”

Dean whistled. “Lieutenant’s test huh?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re like serious about this whole firefighter gig.”

“Ya think?”

“What’s the plan? Become a Lieutenant, marry a nice guy, have some rugrats running around in a white picket fence?” He sneered.

“Maybe?”

“And you ever gonna tell that nice guy the truth? Will he ever know the real you?”

“No…” you could feel the tears start to well.

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sweetheart. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are”

“And who is that, Dean?  on the road 24/7, eating shit food, living in shitty motel rooms…”

“You’re a hunter y/n you should be out there saving people.”

“I am saving people!” You shouted. “And at least this way I’m not miserable doing it.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you were miserable all those years we spent together.”

You turned as the tears started rolling. You look up to Constance standing at the edge of the bridge.

“Dean…”

He stepped in front of you.

 Constance looks at you and then steps off the edge. You and Dean ran over to where she was, looking down into the water.

“Where'd she go?” he asked

“I don't know.”

You look over at Dean as you hear the Impala hum to life.

“What the fuck?” He says looking up at you.

“Please tell me you left the keys in it?”

Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for you. You start to run.

“Run baby, run!” Dean shouts running behind you.

You dive over the edge, Dean follows you. You managed to grab onto the railing and hold on with all your strength. Baby hits the railing as Constance dissipates into thin air.

You pull yourself back up and over the railing.

You look down to find Dean covered in mud, lying on the side of the river.

“You alright Deanie?” you shouted.

“Just fucking peachy sweetheart.” He calls back, you let out a chuckle of relief.

 "Is she ok?" you ask Dean, as he looks under the hood of the Impala.

"Yea, whatever she did to her, seems all right now." Dean explains. "Stupid bitch!" Dean yells in anger.

"Are we ok?"

"Yea sweetheart, we'll be alright."

“So, get this,” Dean says walking back from the office of the Motel. “Apparently dad was staying here.”

“Do you know what room?”

“Got it “ you said as the door clicked. You pushed it open.

“You might be losing your touch,” Dean teased as he followed you through the doorway. “ I could of picked that in half the time.”

“Whatever you say stinky.” Your eyes scanned the room, newspaper articles, and faded pictures covered the walls, “Yep this was definitely John’s room.” You said stepping over a salt line.

Dean walked over to a table, turning the lamp on he noticed a half eaten burger. He gagged as he sniffed it “I would say he hasn���t been here for at least a couple days.”

“Probably still smells better than you.” You smirked at him.

“Keep running that mouth and you’re gonna get a big old bear hug.” He teased, winking at you.

“Centennial Highway victims.” He said pointing at the pictures on the wall. “I don’t get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right?” You nodded as he looks over at you.

You walk across the room, looking at the other wall, filled with pictures of witches, lore print outs of sirens, and the possessed.

 “What do these guys have in common?”

One of the pages catches you eye, you read John’s hand writing as you tear it off the wall. “Dean, your dad figured it out. She’s a woman in white.”

He rushed to you, taking the paper out of your hand as you held it out.

“Oh, you sly dogs.” He said looking back at the victims.

You raised your eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. “Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.” He thought out loud “So, why is she still here?”

“Maybe he didn’t get that far…”

“Does it say anything about where she’s buried?” he asked pointing to the article about Constance.

“No, but the husband would probably know. If he’s still alive.”

“Alright, I’m gonna get cleaned up, you wanna find an address for us?”

“Sure thing.” You hesitated “Dean. Just so you know I wasn’t miserable the whole time.”

He gave you a half smile. “Good to know, jerk.”

“Bitch.” You blurted out.

His smile grew.

“So, have you fallen back in love with him yet?” Buck asked you as he answered his phone.

“Really? I call to check in with my best friend and he’s gonna be an ass?” you huffed laying back on the bed in your motel room.

“Sorry. So how’s it going?”

“Pretty good. We checked in with the local law enforcement, checked the hospital and morgue.” You kept the lies honest. “He hasn’t turned up yet.”

“Well you better.”

“Be back by Monday.” You mocked his tone.  You knew he was just trying to be a good friend, but his attitude was really getting on your nerves. “So, how’s the station?”

“Everything is great.”

“How’s my replacement?”

“Like anyone could replace you y/n.”

You smiled.

“Hey, I’m starving. You wanna grab something to eat on the way?” Dean asked walking out of the bathroom.

“Yea gimme one sec.” you told him. “Hey Buck.” Dean rolled his eyes and walked out the door. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later, k?”

“Sure, just be careful.”

“Yep.”  You closed your phone.

It started ringing.

“Dean what’s.”

“We got cops. Take off.”

“What about you.”

“They’ve already seen me. Go find my dad he can help you get me out.” You closed your phone again, grabbed your jacket, and headed for the bathroom window.

You walked up to the door of the address you found, knocking on the grimy glass window.

“Hello, darlin’ what can I do for you?” an old man asked as he opened the door.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?”

“Yeah.”

You showed him a picture of John. “Have you seen this guy?”

“Yeah, he was older, but he was here.”

“Do you remember when?”

“He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That’s right. We’re working on a story together.”

“Well, I don’t know what the hell kinda story you’re working on. The questions he asked me?” Joseph shook his head.

“About your wife Constance?”

“Yea.” He scoffed. He asked me where she was buried.”

“And where is that again?”

“You’re really gonna make me go through this twice?”

“I know. I’m sorry “

you flashed your ‘get anything smile’

“It’s fact-checking. If you don’t mind.”

“I understand. She’s in a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.”

“You moved?”

“I couldn’t live in the house where my children died.”

“Mr. Welch, would you say you had a happy marriage?”

He hesitated. “Definitely.”

“Have you ever heard of a woman in white?”

“A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman? It’s a ghost story.”

Joseph’s jaw clenched as his nostrils flared. “I don’t care much for nonsense, darlin’.”

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them and these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.”

Your hand caught the door before he could close it

“Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads and waterways. If they find an unfaithful man, they kill him.”

“You think…you think that has something to do with…Constance? You bitch.”

“I don’t know Mr. Welch. You tell me?”

“You get the hell out of here! And you don’t come back!”

He pushed the door again. This time you let it close.

Dean

“I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you.” Dean sighed, “It’s my high school locker combo.”

“Come on kid. Are we really gonna do this shit all night?” The sheriff leaned in closer to him. “Don’t you wanna get back to that sweet little thing that was with you earlier?”

Dean’s nostrils flared, but he kept his cool. “I don’t know.”

“We just got a 911,” a deputy exclaims bursting in the door.  “shots fired over at Whiteford Road”

The sheriff looked back at Dean “You have to go to the bathroom?”

“No?”

“Good.” He smarts as he slaps a cuff around Dean’s wrist and locks the other cuff in the loop sticking out of the table. Then walks out the door.

“Not bad sweetheart.” Dean says as he grabs the paperclip sticking out of his dad’s journal.

Dean snuck out of the station, once all the deputies cleared out, finding an old pay phone 3 blocks over.

“Well, it’s about time.” she said when the call connected.

“y/n, what’s your firefighter buddies gonna think about you making a fake 911 call?” Dean teased.

 You chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

“Listen. We gotta talk.”

“I know. So, I checked in with Joseph. She’s buried behind their old house. And that would have been John’s next stop. So I can ”

“Sweetheart. My dad left Jericho.” Dean interrupted her rambles.

“What? How do you know that?”

“Those cops found his old journal. He left coordinates.”

“Why would he leave without finishing the case”

“Not sure but I’m gonna find out.”

“Ok well I’m on my way back now. I’ll come… Shit!!!” she yelled, Dean swore he heard tires screeching through the phone.

“Y/n?! You, ok?!”

Reader.

The impala skidded to a halt. You looked up, the figure that was just in the middle of the road was gone.

“Take me home.” You heard from the backseat.

“Look lady, I don’t really think I’m your type.”

“Take me home.”

“How about you get out.” The thud of the doors locking cut off your words. The gearshift pulled down on its own and the Impala started moving forward.

She pulls the car into the driveway leading to her old house.

“So, I get to be your first female?” you smarted off raising your eyebrows.

“I can never go home.” She cried.

“You’re scared to go in there huh?”

She dissipated again. Reappearing in the passenger’s seat, she licked her lips and was gone again.

You felt her hands pushing on your shoulders, reclining the seat as she reappeared straddling you.

Shivers rushed down your spine as her icy lips captured yours.

“You can’t kill me. I’ve never been unfaithful.”

She leaned into your ear. “I don’t care.”

She disappeared again. You laid your head back in relief, a loud grunt escapes your throat as you start to feel fingers prodding at your chest, digging through your skin.

The fingers sink deeper, tearing through the cartilage around your heart, making your cries grow louder.

You hear gunshots and Constance disappears as the pain stops.

You start the Impala as an idea pops into your mind. “I’m sorry baby.” You pull down the gearshift and stomp on the gas.

Dean

“Y/n!!!” he yelled as the tires squealed, he followed as the Impala crashed through the side of the house. “y/n!!! You ok?”

“I think so.” She muttered as he approached the passenger side of the car.

“Can you move?”

“Yeah…”

He held out his hand. “ Here. Let me help.” She inhaled sharply as he pulled her out of the car. He could tell she hurt something from the way she was holding her side.  She stood beside him. “You good?”

She smiled. “I’m good.”

He heard her breath hitch, and he looked up, finding Constance standing there holding a picture.

Loud groans filled the abandon house as he felt the weight of the dresser crushing his legs against the Impala.

The sound of running water starts to float down the stairs as the pressure on his legs eases. Constance is distracted enough for him to be able to push the dresser back.

“Still good?” he whispers

She nodded her head.

Suddenly 2 children appear behind Constance. She lets out an ear-piercing scream as they embrace her tightly, y/n turned her head into his chest when a blinding light surged from the entities. His arms automatically wrapped around her, nuzzling his face into her hair.

With another piercing wail the spirits melted into the floor, leaving a puddle of water in their wake.

Dean walks over, looking at the puddle on the floor. “So that’s why she couldn’t go home.” He turns back to y/n, she was still standing by the Impala, still holding her side. “Too afraid to face her kids.”

She managed a smile, then winced again.

“Alright let me see it.”

“Its fine Dean.” She protested.

“Y/n. Let. Me. See. It.” Dean ordered.

She hesitated, but gave in.

She pulled back her jacket. His entire body became numb as she revealed the bullet hole in the side of her abdomen.

@idk6505 @jackles010378 @mqdhvtter @nightxcreature @kamisobsessed

@perpetualabsurdity @barnes70stark @wonderland2022 @quietgirll75 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @hunter-or-the-hunted @deanwinchestersgirl87

@deansimpalababy @roseblue373 @1313diana @lmg14 @aand13b

@phoenixqueen @spnaquakindgdom @americanvenom13

[vodika-vibes]

Kiss From A Rose

Summary: You buy some flowers for your boyfriend.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x GN!Reader

Word Count: 737

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. Reader calls themselves a "failure of a person".

A/N: So, I do have a lot of requests, but since I recovering from a cold I decided to do something a little easier on myself. Tagging: @clonethirstingisreal because you love Hunter

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It was an impulse buy.

Honestly, this is why you shouldn’t be trusted with a paycheck. But you saw the dark red roses and the first thing that popped into your head was that Hunter might like them. 

So you bought them.

Even paid extra to have them wrapped in pretty foil and arranged tastefully.

But, now that you’ve bought them and you’re on your way to Hunter’s place, you’re starting to have second thoughts. 

What if the scent is too strong for him? What if he doesn’t like the color? What if he thinks you’re weird for buying him flowers?

You reach his front door and shove your anxiety down as much as you can before you lightly knock on the door.

The door opens only moments later. Hunter looks surprised, at first, and then pleased when he sees you standing there. “Cyare! I wasn’t expecting to see you today!”

“I bought you flowers!” You blurt as you shove the bouquet into his arms. Then you cringe. You didn’t even greet him. Why are you such a failure of a person?

Hunter looks, understandably, baffled as he looks from your face to the flowers in his hands, and then back to your face. The longer he goes without saying anything, the more awkward you feel.

You’re about to apologize for the weird gift when you notice something startling. There’s color rising to his cheeks.

You stare at him, stunned, for several moments. You’re sure that your eyes are lying to you, but…no. He’s blushing. Hunter is blushing.

You made Hunter blush.

“Are you blushing?!” Okay, you didn’t have to sound quite as delighted as you do, but Hunter takes great pride in making you blush, and now you understand why.

“No! Of course not!” Hunter replies immediately, “It’s just…cold?”

“We live on a tropical island, Hunter.”

He huffs out a laugh and reaches out to clamp his hand over your eyes, “You didn’t see anything.”

You tug his hand away from your eyes, “Come on, Hunter. It’s cute.”

“Ugh. I’m a grown man. Cute is a descriptor for people Omega’s age and younger.”

“What? You don’t think I’m cute?”

“That’s a trap question if I’ve ever heard one,” Hunter counters dryly, then he moves his hand to cup your cheek, “Thank you for the flowers, cyare.”

“You don’t think they’re a stupid gift?”

“They’re from you. How could they be stupid?” Hunter replies, his voice soft. There’s silence for a moment as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, “Cyare?”

“Hm?”

“What am I supposed to do with them?”

A startled laugh falls from your lips, “You display them in your home until they start to die. Or you press them for keepsakes.”

Hunter tugs you so that you’re in the house as well, “What do you do with the flowers that people give you?”

“I dry them and put them in a shadow box.”

“Including the flowers that I give you?”

“I put those flowers in a different shadow box.”

“Yeah?”

“Well,” You kick off your sandals and follow him into the kitchen, “The flowers you give me are special, aren’t they?” Hunter doesn’t reply, and when you glance at him, you see that he’s blushing again.

This time, though, you don’t comment on it. 

“I think, I want to press one flower to keep and then display the others,” Hunter says. “I want to show them off.”

“The others won’t tease you?”

“About how I have an amazing cyare who buys me flowers? Not unless they want me to beat their asses.” Hunter replies, “I think we have a vase under the sink.”

You crouch to dig around under the sink and release a triumphant noise when you pull out a slightly dusty vase. “This will work. I need to wash it though.”

You stand and jump when Hunter pulls the vase from your hands to set it on the table next to the flowers. You’re about to ask him if something is wrong, but you don’t get the chance, as he leans in and catches your lips with his.

“Hunter?”

“I love you, you know that?” He says against your lips. 

You almost melt against him, “I love you too, did you know that?”

You feel his lips curl up into a grin, “You know, I think I did.” He kisses you again, and suddenly, roses are the last thing on your mind.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@kimiheartblade

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@bb8-99

@falconfeather23435

@dukeoftheblackstar

@continous-mistakes

@0revna0

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@mira-loves-star-wars

@adriennelenoir

@rebell-ious

@silly-starfish

@heidnspeak

@maniacalbooper

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@justiceandwar98

@cdblake1565

@cc--2224

@omegaprime18

@wax-birds

@msmeredithrose

@tiredbi-peach

@sweater-sloot

@etod

@lonewolflupe

@bad4amficideas

@kiss-anon

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter One

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn't be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there's a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: You, Antiques salesman, mother, cute black cat.

Chapter Warnings: Pain in the ass mother, language.

W/C: 1,220

A/N: Soley thought of this idea just for that Spiderman meme.

The bell to the antiques store tinkled as you opened the door. As you stepped in, the proprietor of the store moved away from behind the counter. The place was cluttered, and everything in sight was for sale.

“Hi there, interested in purchasing something today?”

He was a kindly-looking older gent, who reminded you of your pops, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Potentially. Just browsing, for now.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He enquired as you started to browse.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He smiled then. “Ah. You won’t know what you’re looking for until it finds you.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled and nodded. Yeah, you could agree with that.

It didn’t take long for you to find something. Your eye had landed on a trifold oval picture frame. And for the price tag, you were tempted. Very tempted.

“Ah a lovely set. Baroque features in the detailing. Could do with a possible restoration, but a proper clean would also suffice.”

You fingered the tag again, it was a hundred dollars.

“Tell ya what. I’ll knock off ten bucks. How does that sound?”

You looked at him then.

“You don’t think I don’t know the look of someone finding an item they can’t walk away from? Darlin’ you got that look. You got it bad.”

It was just a picture frame. A dumb little picture frame, but why did it give you so much joy to look at? You weren’t much of a haggler and it would seem rude to haggle the price after he had already generously knocked off ten percent.

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

He shook your hand. “Excellent.”

He picked up the item and very carefully began meandering his way back to the counter with you following him. He set the item down gently and rung up the purchase.

“Such a pretty little find. And it was a shame that it had been hiding in a box, before coming here.”

You gave him a quizzical look and he held up a hand before disappearing into the back for a few moments and coming back with a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter in front of you. Your hands reached out towards it. The wooden box looked plain compared to the delicate and intricate detailing on the frame. It was finished with a dark varnish and what was with the strange script etched into the grain? Was it Elvish, or Sanskrit, or even Latin? You had no idea. A simple clasp locked the box. Easy to use. Either way, now you had a keepsake box also.

“It’s my understanding that the original owner had passed away and his living relatives didn’t want it and, well here it is.”

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“Of course, of course. If they hadn’t, then you never would have found it.”

He took your cash and then handed you the receipt. He bid you a good rest of your day as you lifted the box and the picture frame and made your way out of the store.

*

You placed the final photo in the frame. Slid the locks, and placed the frame on your sideboard, angling it so you could appreciate it all that little bit more. You sighed in contentment as three of your favourite fictional men smiled seemingly at you from beside your TV.

The door knocked and by the light raps you knew who it was. This time, you sighed heavily and muttered “God, give me strength” before going to open the door. You’d only opened it a crack before she started to barge her way in.

“Y/N, honestly, what are you wearing? Pyjama’s during daytime? I don’t know. Go put on some proper clothes.”

You looked down. Now you were annoyed. It was loungewear for God’s sake. Perfectly acceptable.

“Mother, what I’m wearing should be of no concern to you and its just gone five, and it’s a Saturday.”

She sniffed and made her way into your lounge. She tutted at the clutter.

“Don’t you ever tidy up?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down. “What did you come here for? To pick faults or was there an actual reason?”

“Your father—”

“Not my father.” You stated.

Your mother had married her partner not long after your father’s passing and now, she acted as though he had been in your life since birth.

She continued, like you hadn’t interrupted her.

“—and I have been talking. You know that nice young man that started last year, Cole—"

“Wait, you’re not seriously trying to set me up?”

Your mother looked a little put out.

“Well, it can’t hurt to get back out there. Get back on the horse or so to speak.”

You sat there shocked. Then it turned to anger.

“Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed that your one and only daughter is a divorcee!”

“Ashamed, no. Disappointed, yes.”

It was like a punch to the gut and the hurt stabbed at your heart. You’d suspected your mother had opinions on your divorce but to voice her disappointment a year and a half after finalization felt like a kick in the teeth. It left you speechless.

“Is that new? I have to say I don’t think it goes with the room. Who are those men? Are they from your shows? Honestly Y/N. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

Your mother had continued to ramble on whilst you were still reeling from her comment. At that moment your all black cat slinked in, jumping up and made her way over to your mother’s lap.

“If you’re not careful, this is your future.” She said nodding to the cat.

You looked at her then.

“I think you should leave, mother.”

She turned her head, facing you. She looked like a goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. Then her lips pursed together, and she stood, with the cat leaping from her. She made a disgusted sound, discovering the amount of cat hair had malted on her. You handed her a nearby lint brush, and she furiously started scrubbing at the hair on her skirt. She then stood and bid you a good evening and purposefully walked to the door. Your mother didn’t wait, slamming the door on her way out. You scrubbed your hand down your face muttering about her audacity.

*

You plonked yourself on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The cat had been fed and was currently God knows where, doing its own thing.

Halfway through Family Feud, a loud crash from what sounded like your kitchen alerted you. Your laugh cut short and Steve Harvey poked fun at a contestant's absurd answer, laughing on the screen. You jumped up, abandoning the snacks and ran to see the destruction, cussing your cat out along the way.

You stormed into the room ready to reem your pesky feline, grabbing a broom, threatening the extinction of treats for the rest of his life. But what you saw had you stopping in your tracks. Words died on your tongue. And what you saw, there was no rhyme or reason to it. In fact, it should have been physically impossible.

Dean Winchester stood in your kitchen, holding a case of pie.

[shiningfremi]

freminet teaches you how to swim!

[ the pro-diver x the not-so-coordinated y/n ]

wc: 1.9k

enjoy the story! ≽^•⩊•^≼

❀ you adored your blossoming relationship between you and freminet. but the problem is, you can't swim. how will you accompany him in the water if you can only manage to go two feet in? ah.. this calls for swimming lessons! will he give them to you? you wanted nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend doing the thing he loves most. plus, you've been needing to be taught this skill for a long time coming, not only for freminet, but for your own safety! no more floaties, y/n~!

❀ you were on a date with him one day, well, it was more of you tagging along with him as he went to dive and log his discoveries, but he enjoyed greeting you at the shore and playing in the shallow end with you at times. freminet would pop up out of the water just to see your pretty face and hang around you for a bit until he went back in again.

❀ you usually loved to pick out the best seashells for him, digging them out of the warm sand. he would end up keeping every single one and held them in a keepsake box. your heart just fluttered thinking about it, but you wanted more than to just stay behind and find trinkets on land.

as the two of you were on the way home for the night, you asked him the question.

🏖✨️🌺

"hey, freminet?" you pique his interest.

"yes? is something wrong? i apologize if you were getting bored.. we can do something else tomorrow." he sighed, instinctively putting his walls up.

“not at all. in fact, i wanted to ask you a favor. can you please teach me how to swim?” you asked him, hopes high and eyes gleaming. you were so excited to finally try and learn, and who better than him to teach you? he’s the best diver in all of fontaine!

“wait.. really?” freminet seemed as if that was the last question he was expecting.

“i thought you weren’t open to the idea, seeing you never strayed far from the shore.. so i never pried. are you s-sure?”

“of course! i should’ve learned when i was little, but i’ve always been afraid to drown. now that i realize it, i need to be properly prepared.” you cleared your throat. “i want to explore with you. i truly want to know more, but my lack of ability is holding me back.” you confess.

“alright y/n, i will try my very best to help. i promise to keep you safe.” he gratefully sighed with a small smile. “say, when would you like to start?”

“tomorrow!” you beam cheerfully. >ᴗ<

🏖✨️🌺

❀ when you told freminet that you wanted to learn to swim, he was over the moon. he hoped that you would enjoy the realm of possibilities that would unfold as a result. but for now, he was lazer focused on your well-being, and when you guys reached the secluded beach where your first session would begin, he told you over and over again that you shouldn't push yourself. swimming can be difficult at first.

❀ you reminded him of how greatly you wanted to do this, and so he simply gave you a tiny nod, happy knowing that he is able to share his knowledge with you. he loves you whether you are able to swim or not, but the fact that you’re taking the initiative.. warms his heart.

❀ when you two were taking off your coverups, freminet’s swimsuit was revealed and your jaw dropped. it was a change from his thick diving suit that concealed his entire body, and you had never seen him in such a tight fit up until now. it accentuated his muscle tone and his broad shoulders. you willed yourself to stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

🏖✨️🌺

“that swimsuit looks perfect on you!” you’d compliment him.

although you could tell he felt a bit insecure.

“ah, it does? thank you.. i'm glad you like it.” he looked away, his face heating right up. your kind words felt very significant to him, but it is difficult for him to express his gratitude without feeling like a horde of butterflies forced their way into his stomach.

“anywho, where do we begin, my dear teacher?” you tease. this makes him blush even more. hey, you just have to give this boy all the admiration that you possibly can! he deserves it~! even if he isn’t used to it.. ;^;

“p-please y/n! you’re making my heart melt.” he blurted out.

“i’m overjoyed that i am.” you gave him a thoughtful grin, and turned away to dabble into the water. “whew, it’s cold!”

freminet followed closely behind you, and both of you began wading in until the water was up to your torsos. that’s about how deep you were able to go without a struggle emerging.

“it will warm up after awhile.” he assures you, whilst he has no reaction whatsoever to the chill.

you stretch your arms and get prepared. "a little cold won't hurt!" you respond in determination, letting out a sharp breath.

“alright, the first step to swimming is knowing how to float. so, we’re going to start off on your back. it will greatly help with keeping stable in the water…” freminet directed.

“okay, that doesn’t sound too difficult!” you excitedly respond. you sink down and slowly lean back, but the sensation puts you off. you didn’t know the first thing about proper form.

as if freminet was reading your mind, he quickly comes to your aid. “i-it’s fine y/n, i’m right here to hold you up. lay down, and i’ll adjust you.”

you trust his guidance, and so you continue to lean until the back of your head touched the surface of the water, and suddenly, you feel one hand under your head and another one holding up your lower back area, stabilizing your body.

“there we go, n-now just breathe how you normally would. you can loosen your legs so they dangle..” he told you. “the thing about floating is that your center of gravity is in your upper body."

you listened in, and looked down at your center to make sure you were balanced. but instead, your body was feeling heavy and you were a bit lopsided. "ohh, gotcha!"

"i'll give you some pointers, uhmm, so you'll want to point your chin up to the sky. if you focus on what your feet are doing, you won't stay afloat because your stomach will sink."

you'd adjust your chin, obeying his instruction. "got it!" you spotted a pretty cloud in the process. what a beautiful day~

"and, you'll want to lift your chest and your hips up. that will arch your back and help tilt your body to break the surface." he helped you out to find the perfect positioning, carefully making small adjustments.

"that's a lot better!" you mentioned, your spirit building. "what next?"

"you're doing a great job, y/n.. now you just need to spread your arms out and pretend you're a swan, propeling yourself backwards. i'll be holding you the entire time. would you like to try?"

"mhm!" you began to move your arms, and glided through the gentle waves. it felt surreal, you were totally weightless with freminet moving you along.

"yes, that's good!" he applauded. "okay, can you use your legs next?" a glint of confidence was revealed within him.

you then used your legs, but flailed them about and accidentally created some splashes.

"a bit more gently, and you've got it. try to keep your calves under the water, then kick on again." he instructed with the smallest hint of a chuckle. this feeling.. his love for you, and your company, it made him feel so giddy.

you took his advice, and tried again, making sure to avoid disrupting the surface of the water, and then you stood up straight with one of his hands boosting you up.

“that's correct. can you.. try using your arms and legs at the same time?”

you were determined, but you paused for a moment to try and figure out how you were going to stay coordinated.

“don't worry about staying afloat yet, we will get to that. my hands are right under you at all times.” he nodded earnestly, patiently waiting for you to try it out.

“i got this!” you pump your fists in the air, then you prepare yourself, angling your frame backwards as freminet hovers his arms near.

“do everything that i’ve taught you so far.”

taking a breath in, you kick your legs, and once you were consistent, you then propelled your arms, making large, controlled movements, grateful for his help to keep steady.

“you’re doing it, you’re doing it y/n!” freminet praised.

“i am?” you beam, and continue on. “i really am!” you couldn’t believe it. this had to be the first time if your life that you properly swam.

you travel for a couple feet, before you look up at freminet's face to notice that he has on the biggest, most adorable smile that you have ever seen.

“it's all thanks to you.” you tell him, before slowing down and coming up once more.

“i've got to say, you're a natural.” his expression was so sincere that you couldn't help but get flustered and beam.

🏖✨️🌺

❀ after some more practicing with freminet, you were tired out. but it was a great feeling, because this only marks the beginning of all the progress that there is to come! you were helped to realize that swimming wasn't so scary after all. as long as you had the best teacher by your side, you could accomplish anything!

❀ something else that you were loving was that freminet tended to put his hair up into a ponytail before swimming. occasionally, he lets you put braids in his hair~ what more is there to love?

🏖✨️🌺

it was getting dark, and so you both decided to dry off and start walking home together. but as you made your way out of the ocean, a wave surged your leg forward in the shallow end and caused you to trip on a rock.

“ack!” you call out in surprise, feeling yourself losing your foothold. before you could brace your hands forward to hit the ground, you feel a cradling sensation.

you fell right into his arms!

“y/n, are you alright? I'm sorry! i should have warned you about the rocks over here.”

though, his words weren't what you were focused on at the moment. he had a hand on your waist and the other grasping your shoulder, and he was staring down at you in concern, blond locks flowing with the light wind.

“yes.. i'm okay.” you finally speak, and notice an endearing spark in his gorgeous eyes. you swore that you could find a thousand hues of blue in them, getting lost in his dreamy gaze.

you were totally frozen in place, and it wasn’t because of the chilly water.

by now, the dusk had begun to settle, and in the twilight, you find yourself yearning for a kiss, his captivating features inviting you in.

without another word, you pull your head up until you were inches away from his face. freminet blinked a few times, then closed his eyes in anticipation.

your lips met with his, and you both melt into the soft, sweet kiss. the waves crash by your legs, but you weren't going anywhere with the way freminet was holding on to you like no tomorrow.

what a pleasant end to your lesson~