#instead i did something even more embarrassing and read it as an adult

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

confession: if i read the Percy Jackson series when i was younger i would’ve been absolutely convinced i was a child of athena

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY ONE

October 1st -- Praise

happy first day of kinktober 🎃🎃🎃🎃!!!

masterlist

summary: You've been secretly hooking up with your coworker Spencer for two months. He notices something about you and wants to try something new. (I personally imagined circa season 10 Reid, but you do you bestie 😘)

warnings: praise, lots of 'good girls', oral [m/f both receiving and giving], light dom behavior, finger sucking, piv, safe sex practices, and a little bit of begging

word count: 3.1k (this one got away from me a little bit oops)

this is adult content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

You had never wanted to be one of those people, a girl with a huge crush on her coworker, but then you’d meet Spencer Reid. A year ago, you’d waved at him instead of shaking his hand when Hotch had introduced the two of you, and you’d felt the first flutter of butterflies. You had tried desperately to ignore your feelings, but the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. And then, about two months ago, you’d become another cliche. The girl who was sneaking around and secretly hooking up with her coworker. 

Now you were trying to avoid touching your knee against his as you sat on the plane on the way home from a case. The last time you’d simply accidentally brushed your hand against his, it had been like an electrical shock between the two of you. So it is just easier to avoid touching at all costs while in the presence of your other coworkers. 

The words in the book that you’re holding in your hands are absolute gibberish as you can’t focus on anything except the way Spencer’s hands glide over the page of notes he’s re-reading. You've always known he has captivating hands, but now you know intimately just how capable those hands were. This case was long, and before that, Spencer had been at a conference for four days. He hasn’t touched you in almost a week, and you’re becoming impatient. But you both had wisely made the promise that as long as you were on clock, so to say, you were only coworkers and nothing more. 

You look up as you hear him say your name. 

“Would you mind reading over this? I’m not sure it makes any sense.” He hands you his leather bound notebook. You place your book on your lap and look over into his eyes. 

“Me? I really don’t think I’m the person who…” 

Spencer interrupts you, “I trust your opinion.” It’s a simple statement, but it sets your skin aflame all the same. To hide your reaction, you focus on reading Spencer’s notes. 

“I think it’s great, Spencer. But you’re presenting this to college students, so I think it would be beneficial to use examples they may have heard in the news or at least know ‘cause of the insane amount of Netflix documentaries.” You roll your eyes as you mention the oversaturation of true crime television. But then suddenly you feel self-conscious and hand back his notebook. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s just a small idea.” 

“No, it’s insightful. You’re brilliant.” You can feel your skin heat in embarrassment, not comfortable with the compliment. Compliments often make you uneasy and you don’t know why. Well, that’s not entirely true, but you didn’t feel like profiling yourself to better understand this aspect. 

Spencer’s eyes observe you, and you watch as his tongue slips out and wets his bottom lip as he thinks. “I mean it.” He emphasizes. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly.   

“Good girl.” The words glide from Spencer’s mouth almost absent-mindedly and barely audible as he returns to his work. If he notices how much deeper your blush becomes, he doesn’t say anything. And you pretend you didn’t even hear him, or else you might make a fool of yourself.

Several hours later, you’re finally back at your apartment and getting into pajamas. As you pull a tank top over your head, you allow your mind to think about Spencer.

Good girl. 

He said it so flippantly, practically under his breath. Did he even mean for you to hear it? Did he know how it would make your heart hammer? You play it over again and again, letting yourself bask in the feeling. 

There’s a knock on your door, so you quickly pull on an old pair of yoga pants and race to your door. A brisk glance through your peephole causes that all too familiar heart tremor. Dr. Spencer Reid at your door, as though you’d summoned him with your thoughts. 

You swing open the door and let your eyes trail down his body. 

“I meant it.” He says immediately. 

“What do you mean?” You want to reach for him. He’s still dressed for work, and it takes everything in you not to wrap your fingers around his tie and pull him into your apartment. 

“When I called you brilliant.” He replies casually. 

“You came all this way to call me brilliant?” 

He smirks. “No, I came all this way to do this,” as he talks he steps toward you. 

You let a small breath of anticipation escape before he has his hands on either side of your face and is pressing his lips to yours. Your own hands find their way first to grasp at his waist and then around to his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you, desperate for the feel of his body against yours. The harsh sharp lines of him melding into the soft, lush curves of you. 

He moves you further into your apartment, shuts your door, and then pushes you up against the cool wood of the door, all without pulling his lips away from yours. Goosebumps spring to life across your skin as your body tries to process the head spinning sensation of the warmth of his body, combining with the chill of the door against your back. His hands are in your hair, possessive and needy, and you moan into his mouth. 

You feel the puffs of breath against your mouth as he laughs softly and then pulls away, his hands come to rest between your neck and shoulders. “I’ve missed you.” 

A small smile curves your freshly kissed lips. “It’s been like two hours since I saw you.” 

“I’ve missed being able to touch you.” He amends. The thumb of his right hand starts to move up and down the skin of your neck, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. His eyes search your face. “Did you like it when I called you a good girl?” 

Your lips part as if to reply, but no words come out. 

“Answer me.” He demands softly, his words are never harsh, but they still hold a sense of power. 

“Yes. I liked it,” you admit. 

He continues to watch you as his mind works, and then he makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “And would you like me to call you a good girl more often?” 

Need and want pools low in your belly, but you take a second to wet your lips before answering. You want your voice to come across as strong and sure, so there is no question that you want this. “Yes, please.” 

Your head is swimming in the overwhelming sensation of his lips back on yours in a matter of seconds. His hands explore your body, grazing and grasping onto your breasts before settling on your hips. He uses his knee to push your legs apart, and you move without resistance. A guttural moan breaks free from your throat as that same knee connects with the place that has been begging for friction since the moment Spencer put his hands on you. 

Spencer breaks away from the kiss. “You’re so beautiful when you moan like that,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses, licks, and nips along your jaw and neck. 

Your hips jerk involuntarily, but it instantly causes a wave of pleasure as you slide against him. “Do that again, baby.” You do as you’re told and again and again. His mouth continues across your clavicle, and then lower until his teeth scrape against one of your nipples over the fabric of your tank top. You gasp and push yourself closer to him, but he pulls away. 

He lowers himself to the ground as he works to push down your yoga pants. As soon as you step out of them, the pants are thrown across the room, Spencer not bothering to pay attention. All of his attention is on you. 

“Look at you, pretty girl.” His thumb traces over the damp spot in your underwear while his other hand travels up your leg, sending zaps of pleasure straight to your core. 

“All for me?” His eyes flash up to yours. 

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

“That’s my good girl.” You twist your hands into his hair when his mouth makes contact with your still clothed pussy, his tongue swiping against you. He only teases you for a second before he can’t take it anymore and pulls down your underwear to be able to taste you without a barrier. The room fills with the obscene sounds of him lapping at your core as he lavishes praises on you in between licking and sucking. “So perfect, so goddamn perfect.” 

You throw your head back with a deep moan. 

Spencer continues, undisturbed. “Yes. Keep moaning for me. I want your neighbors to hear how good you are for me.” His tongue circles and caresses your clit. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Tell me.” 

“Yes, oh god. Fuck. Spencer.” You can’t think straight. The only thing your brain is capable of is focusing on how good you feel. 

Spencer obliges your request and plunges two fingers into you. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “I can’t believe how wet you are. And you’re taking my fingers so good. I bet you’d take my cock even better.” He hooks his fingers and massages against the swollen pressure point inside you. 

You lean forward over him, trying to keep your legs steady. 

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” You simply nod your head even though he can’t see with his face buried in your pussy. “You’re gonna come all over my face and my fingers because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

Your legs shake, but Spencer uses his free hand to hold onto your hip and hold you steady. 

“It’s okay, you can let go. I’ve got you.” His fingers buried deep within you speed up and he focuses all of his attention on the pattern of his tongue against your clit, ramping up the building pleasure that’s threatening to bubble over. “You’ve made such a mess, a beautiful mess. Look at you, so good. So good.” 

You clench around him. “Yes, that’s it. I want you to come. Just like that.” You jerk against his fingers and jaw as the pressure cascades and overflows inside you. His name is the only thing you can say in between your moans. “I love when you say my name when you come.” His fingers slow their pace, and his mouth becomes less frantic as he guides you through your orgasm and the small after-shocks. 

When he finally pulls away completely, you watch slack-jawed as he takes his two fingers and puts them in his slick mouth, cleaning away traces of you. “Tasting you makes me so hard, I love it.” You lean back against the door with a smile. 

“Do you want me to help with that?” 

He laughs. “I’m not even close to finishing with you, my beautiful girl.” When he starts to reach for you, you grab onto his tie first and pull him closer. You work on his tie as you kiss his mouth, tasting the remnants of yourself.

In a matter of seconds, you have his tie off and thrown into the abyss, your shaking fingers focusing on unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes watch as you strip him of his shirt and then pull on his belt. But he can’t keep his hands off you, and they create a path over your skin. You undo the clasp, the tingling sound of metal like a beckoning call. 

After taking off his belt and letting it drop to the floor, you also head toward the floor onto your knees. Spencer’s hand’s end up in your hair, and your hands travel up his thighs to the noticeable bulge in his pants. “Do you see what you do to me? Only you can make me this hard.” 

You bite your bottom lip and work to take off his pants and underwear as he kicks off his shoes. Your eyes look up to his eyes, and he smiles at you. “Go on, I know you’re desperate for it.” One hand holds onto the base of him as your tongue circles the pink tip. He lets out a sharp breath at the contact. 

You watch his reactions, flicking and teasing his head, gathering the stickiness of his precum on his tongue. Then you circle your lips around him and inch down, your hand sliding up and down on him to meet your mouth. His mouth is wide open as he watches you, the eye contact between the two of you almost overwhelming. Your body doesn’t seem to care that you just had an earth-shattering orgasm because you can feel the steady thrum of need building. 

“Are you getting wet again just from sucking me off?” You nod and take him deeper in your mouth, the hand resting on his thigh feels a muscle twitch. “You have the perfect mouth.” His fingers in your hair pull slightly, not enough to cause pain, but just enough to cause you to moan on his dick. 

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come down that pretty throat.” You moan again, and he makes a low humming noise. “Is that what you want, sweet girl?” 

You pull off of him, a string of spit following you, “yes.” You take both hands and twist and stroke up and down him with a smile on your messy lips. 

“Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out flat. He takes his two fingers and sticks them in your mouth, and you instantly start to suck on them, never stopping the motion of your hands. “My perfect, beautiful girl.” He mutters and then pulls his fingers from your mouth. Before you can put your mouth back on him, he’s stepping away and then helping you stand up. 

When you’re on your feet, he kisses you slowly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, and you reach down with one hand to continue to stroke him. He breaks the kiss and lightly guides you to turn around and bend over, using your hands to hold yourself up on the door. “You’re so good for me. Stay there.” You look over your shoulder and watch him find his pants to grab a condom. He quickly unwraps it and slides it on before returning to you. 

He glides his hands over the back of your thighs and over your ass appreciatively, then squeezes your ass. “Are you going to take all of me?” The whispers tickling the back of your neck as he leans over you toward your ear, you shiver against him. 

“Yes.” 

He trails a hand down your spine as he pulls away and then helps you to set your legs further apart. You bite your lip, so ready for him, when he squeezes your hips. Both of you moan deeply as he guides himself into you, inching himself in until he’s seated completely. His hands are back on your hips, holding you in place. He leans forward and places a kiss on your back. He whispers in your ear again, “now you’re gonna be a good girl for me, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you you can. Do you understand?” 

You nod swiftly. 

He presses another kiss. “Words please, sweet girl.” 

“I understand.” 

He stands fully and slowly starts to pull himself out of you, dragging against every inch of your core. When he’s out fully, he pushes forward, again at that agonizing slow pace. You squirm against him, needing more. “You think you can take all of it, baby?” 

“Yes. Yes. Please. Please.” 

“You’re so beautiful begging for me.” You think he’s going to continue to tease you, but he doesn't. He starts to move faster and faster, building up a steady rhythm. Your nails scratch against the wood of your door. “That’s it, so good. I only ever feel this good with you. Only you can take my dick like this. You take it so perfect.” He gasps and rambles as he pumps into you. 

The base of your spine zaps pleasure through your body and you shake on him. 

“Don’t come yet, baby. Not yet. I could spend forever inside you.” 

You feel your arms start to get weak, but Spencer holds so tight on you that you know that you’re stable. “I need to –” you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“I know. I know. But you can wait, I know you can. Do you know how I know you can?” 

You shake your head. 

“Because you’re my good girl.” You press your lips together and moan. “Yeah, and you’re gonna wait until I tell you. And then you’re going to touch that swollen little clit of yours. It’s aching isn’t it.” 

“Yes!” You practically shout. “Spencer, please.” 

“Beg again.” 

“Please. Spencer. Oh god, please. I need it. I need it.” 

“Touch your clit, baby.” You cry out as soon as one of your hands makes contact. “You still can’t come, honey.” 

You whimper, but try so hard not to give yourself over to the pleasure. 

“You’re all mine, aren’t you.” 

“Yes, yours all yours. Only yours forever.” 

He bites out a harsh moan, and you know he’s trying just as hard as you to keep it together. “You look so pretty.” The words are just rambles, almost imperceptible. “Come for me. Come all over me.” 

You do so instantly, Spencer tightens his grip on you to hold you steady as you lose yourself in the feeling. He comes with whimpers and sighs and deep grunts. When he finally stops moving, your legs are gelatinous, so he holds you tight against him, your back against his chest. He pulls out of you and then turns you around in his arms. 

“You’re perfect.” He peppers light kisses across your face and lips and neck. “You did so good.” His hands are wrapped around you, both holding you steady but also keeping close to him. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, and he kisses your lips fully. When he pulls away, you open your eyes and look up into his eyes. “Are you okay?” He checks in softly. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” He kisses you again chastely. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Another kiss and his hands massage down your back and your hips, checking to see if you’re sore. 

“I’m fine.” You answer before he can ask. 

“Did you like that,” he asks earnestly. 

“I loved it.” 

He smiles brightly and you match it. “Are you hungry?” 

“Starving.”

[shuenkio]

Mid Night w'you | Ksn. 🌜

Paring: Innocent!Sunoo X Male!reader | Genre: Sg Smut.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

Synopsis: Sunoo was waking up in the middle of the night feeling overwhelmed by the sudden heat, so he asked you for a lil help.

Cw: mentioned of cum, masturbate, overstimulated, curse Mdni.

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A-N: I'm back with Sun's work after a while, I mean I'm kinda sucky at writing this genre a bit suar don't be mad at it :') / also tell me which member you wanna see next.

You know that, your boyfriend, Sunoo was a bright person, sweet as sugar, a gentleman and never had any bad background before, he was just perfect. However, in the life of a human, as a man he was pretty innocent even if he was already an adult, you know what we trying to say.

Sometimes he was a pain and oblivious that, doing it with alone times is nothing to be ashamed of, your body do need relaxation too such as a good release. You did bring up this topic a few times too that, nothing to be embarrassed off, while he said he was fine, shrugged it off didn't care of it that much. So you just go along with the flow, not everyone is enjoying themselves doing alone time.

However, during the middle night as you and him, have gone to sleep. Sunoo was seen waking up, feeling uneasy, flashing and heat surrounded all over his body in every part especially 'that'. Why did his dick is so hard like a rock right now, damn it. To say that, he didn't know how to make it dead down and back to normal. Usually Sunoo would just pee it out when his bladder said so, but this was different. He feel nothing to pee, his balls are tight together, the base of his dick twitching and throbbing hard to point it actually painfully hurt.

He didn't want to wake you up from your sleep just for this personal issues to be solve, it kinda make him even more ashamed and embarrassed. Yet he got no choice, as Sunoo pull over to see once again under his pant, it wet? Why did his tip leaking wet and what are all these, he don't understand. Yeah they said everybody had a wet dream when they hit puberty, for Sunoo, he don't really care about it that much, at this point, he don't even know what c u m is. Innocent, really innocent.

He left with no choice, the more he try to resist, the more his dick hurting him more and more, that feeling when it just hitting, and needed to get it done asap. Shaking you gently, as you slowly open your eyes to see what's wrong, He finally explain.

Sunoo expected that you'd be hate him for waking you up this late, just for his dick never dead down or to find solution for him? Instead, you yawn. You know someday, man will always be man, and so are you and this was a countless time that you have to deal with it, and today it turn out to be your innocent boyfriend, this is going to take a while.

"M/n— i-im sorry, but how am i suppose to make it stop hard" He asked. His face are all redden like a fine wine, clenching tight on the bed sheet because he was shy, to deal with this with you helping. On the other hand, you didn't say anything as you remove the blanket away from the views and asked him.

"Sun, remove your pant. And underwear you need it" you state, finally half awake as you command him to do as you told. Shamelessly, he did remove everything and was left with bare butt and his dick, able to breathing for once. His expression is readable, he could actually fainted from all of these moments alone.

"N-now what should we do next?" Sunoo asked, he was still leaking with pre cum and it soaked his shaft already, well this was his first time for a while, gonna be a bit sensitive.

"So... It kinda late, we can't do something that need much energy so, can you uh jerk it off?" Explain what he should do, his face began to grow even redder, he was supposed to what? Fap his own dick? Naur way, he don't even know how to do it.

"I need to what? B.. but i don't know how!" Claiming he can't do it, explain the big picture that he can't do it for himself, which in the end you did have to help him, everything.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you Sun, but let me tell you first, it gonna be sensitive yeah?" Informing your boyfriend, he know that it would be so he agree even if he know he's gonna squirm under your touch, not to mention, everybody first time, its a hella crazy experience.

You crawl closer beside him, as you slowly wrapped your palm and finger around his dick. Just by doing that, he's already gone twitching non stop, the sensation are slowly making him swallow hard already.

But to stop it, he must need to do it, nothing to be afraid of.

You looking at him for consent that you'll be moving, when he catch your eyes he gently nod, as his brows strain together, feeling the heavy heat absorbing him once again.

As you moving your hand up and down in a slow pace, Sunoo was shaking. His thighs is so sensitive to your touch, with the wave of first stage pleasure wash over him. But why does he feel good? What's this feeling. Continue to jerk him off by the increase speed in every step, he can't help but to cover his mouth by the pleasure. The sound that he make only was whimpering, only to make him even more turn on.

Little by little, the slow pace turn into a fast one. The foreskin on his tip moving up and down nonstop with the help of your hand. The balls are swinging by the rhymes of your move that make Sunoo rolling his eyes over, almost can't hold himself back down. The more you go, the more his breath start to hitch, along with the high pitch sound he make, groaning, feeling like he was about to seen heaven in any moment.

"S-SHIT m/n i want to pee, i n-need to pee right now! Nvgahh ah"

"Piss it out Sun, don't hold back it not a pee~"

In another few more strokes, a wave of ecstasy hit him, as Sunoo feel like his body is begging for to be release the white liquid that he had seen back in those day. He was trembling and indeed squirming just like he predicted, his tips is twitching as it giving signal once last time before a big load of cum shooting out on the bed, a very heavy one. Sunoo's body couldn't endure such pleasure before, the sensation running wild in his vein, and that's when he pass out, on the spot. He's probably seen heaven before he pass out right now.

You chuckle at your boyfriend who is a sensitive guy, before lay back down next to him, leave the dirty sheet for a while.

"How does it feel ma luv?" You asked, seeking for the attention and how does he feel like to be able to masturbate.

Yet Sunoo was still catching his breath, he can't bare himself to touch his sensitive spot, why does it feel so pleasurable that he can't even endure it yet he feel so good?

He must try... For another time in a while he thought, again soon.

"It feel so... Good just like you said, M/n...it actually overwhelmed with- it sensitive good"

"I know you would, everybody did, you don't have to be shy, unless it for everybody and not me ok? Now go to rest, you look like you're about to dead, so sensitive so cute hehe"

"Thanks you, M/n"

Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

Crd to all the owners of pics and dividers.

Ps; I didn't use the grammar checker so a lot of words might be incorrect.

[sleepyangelkami]

Okay but imagine - Tommy and Maria have a daughter (reader obvs) and is shy and quiet while ellie is all outgoing n stuff eeeek they would make such a good couple

CRYBABY e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 7.6K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - reader is tommy and maria's daughter and while she had always been on the shyer side, she can't help but fall into a loop upon becoming best friends with the ellie williams. and how on earth is she going to come to terms with the sudden feelings bubbling insider her when she finds ellie has begun to pay more attention to her 'fling' cat.

☆ warnings - mushy fluff, angry love confession, kissing, loser lesbians?, stupid grumpy x sunshine trope (my absolute fave), reader is kinda innocent, slight suggestive themes, angst if you squint, mentions of cat, reader is mentioned to be shorter than ellie, tinsy bit of tommy and maria slander? mentions of bullying, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proof read 🩷

the princess of jackson. ellie williams could remember the day when she very first met her, the prized possession, the adored and loved. you.

of course, you were both only fourteen then. ellie williams stood with a small scowl on her face, standing parted from joel as he had a heated conversation with tommy, your father. she hadn't even noticed you, too caught up in her own feelings. she needed to get to the fireflies and quickly, she had no time to 'dilly dally' while waiting for tommy miller, she had decided he was nothing but a cowered, unwilling to help.

she only met the man, so naturally such an opinion hadn't stuck with her. but then, oh how she hated his stupid face. rolling her eyes over something stupid he had said, she turned her eyes to his wife, who was standing off near her, though completely engrossed in the conversation between the two older men. And then, her eyes landed on a pretty girl, standing in a woollen jumper that hung from her frame, covering her hands whole. you.

it was that moment, ellie realised, that she had fallen completely head over heels for y/n miller. she didn't know you then, you were just a child and a shy one at that. you stood practically clinging to your mother, hands fiddling with one another as you listened to your father raise his voice, nothing new, it was apparent that tommy miller had anger issues at times.

she merely stared, too embarrassed to so much as part her lips fully, simply turning her nose up. it wasn't until you turned your head that you noticed her impending stare. instantly, your face heated up like a match lit on fire. eyes widening slightly, you whipped your head back around, ignoring the way your hair now covered your face from her view but she could still... sense it, the way your face had turned beat red. if it were anyone else, she would have chuckled, threw her head back and laughed at whoever was embarrassed to make mere eye contact amiss an apocalypse. but she didn't laugh, didn't even smile. instead, her face softened into an expression you were still yet to decipher.

it didn't take long for you and ellie to meet again.

you didn't talk to her before she left, didn't even bid her a hello or a goodbye. she simply stared as you all but cowered behind your mother. your mother introduced you, however, knowing you weren't going to do it yourself. "this is y/n, y/n this is ellie." and you simply nodded as ellie wore a small smile, growing more impatient to leave the town as the seconds scraped by.

and you thought you had gotten away, weaved your way out of making a new friend, you always did hate it when maria pushed you. you were adored in jackson by all the elders, all the adults and yet if there was one thing you couldn't do, it was talk to people your age. let alone a pretty girl like ellie williams.

but when the girl reappeared soon after, your parents were just over the moon about a girl your age living so close, having such a close connection with your family as your uncle practically took her in. you could remember the first day you were told to talk to the girl, you remembered hating every single second of it.

you had to walk all the way from the main hall to her house, and for some reason the fourteen year old girl was given her own house, you weren't sure of, maybe a bad call by your father. nonetheless, you didn't think much of it, too focused on the angry mumbles tumbling from your lips as you puffed your cheeks out, reddened with the cold. you had to return a jacket, a jacket for god sake. you hadn't felt like it when tommy pulled you aside, shoving a green jacket in your hands and telling you to return it to the girl, stating she'd need it in the morning. you simply cringed, stating that your uncle could return it when he was passing home but of course, your parents would never give up a chance for you to communicate with teenagers your age, and so, they shoved you out the main hall door.

you cursed every star and constellation that she had managed to leave it behind. looking back, you weren't even sure why she had been in the hall in the first place. she did so many jobs for the town it was difficult for you to keep track. you almost grew envious of how everyone had come to adore the girl. it wasn't as if they had adored you any less, you simply envied the way she could keep the conversation flowing with the people of jackson, how she stood up tall and didn't have to glance down at her fingers every five seconds, attempting to come up with some form of a response. unlike you, that is.

puffing out another breath, you ignored the white smoke in front of you, painting an image that you had been smoking. it was almost humorous, the thought, y/n miller would have gone near no such thing. you brought a balled fist up, knocking on the door gently. almost instantly, you retracted it back to your side, chomping down on your bottom lip. you didn't know why you were so embarrassed but you could feel your face getting hot already and for the love of god it was the middle of winter in jackson.

you mentally cringed when no one answered the door, knowing you'd have to knock again. what if she had heard it and chose to neglect it? what if you came off much too annoying? what if she opened the door in the middle of knocking? what if she was in the bathroom? your thoughts were cut short by your own actions, knocking on the door once more only this time, not as softly. and when you received no answer this time, the door slowly creaked open.

eyes widening, you turned to look around as if casper the ghost would appear at any given moment. you slowly pushed the door open further, who leaves their front door unlocked in the middle of the night? you made a mental note to remind ellie to lock her doors, you know, if you ever actually gained the confidence to speak to her. swallowing harshly, you peeked your head in from the front door. "ellie?" your voice slightly raspy. "uhm, ellie!" attempting to project your voice just a little louder this time, of course failing in your attempts.

then your eyes caught it. her.

she was sitting at her desk, pen in hand and bushed brown ponytail sitting on her back. you took note of the earphones plugged into her ears. of course she hadn't heard you, you could practically hear her music blaring from where you stood all the way at her door. you had been near ellie at least a thousand times by now, she was always creeping close, her eyes always strained towards your face. you always pretended not to notice the way her eyes would stay fixated on you, the way you completely ignored her presence every single time. not on purpose, obviously, but you knew the minute you were pushed into her bubble, you'd find some way to absolutely humiliate yourself, you swore yourself against that, embarrassing yourself in front of ellie williams. and yet here you stood, awkwardly holding her jacket in your hands as you slowly entered the room. her house wasn't massive but it was very homely. shutting the door with your back facing it, you called out her name again in hopes of her somehow hearing you despite the loud music plugged into her ears.

you bit down on your bottom lip, moving closer to her. you reached your hand out, wincing knowing you were going to scare the girl however you truly did have no other choice. you softly patted her shoulder causing her to completely whip around.

you flinched as her book went tumbling to the ground, a yelp falling from her own lips as you took a step back, eyes screwed shut momentarily.

"y/n, jesus christ!" pressing a hand to her chest as she ripped the earphones out from her ears, heart thumping quickly.

despite no one scaring you, your own heart was thumping swiftly against your chest. "sorry, sorry!" instantly feeling guilt washing over you.

"you're okay." the girl chuckled, pushing the ear buds onto the table. "just scared me is all." puffing out a breath to show she was merely breathless from the scare.

"sorry, i didn't mean to." instantly falling to your knees to pick up the book that had fallen off the table. "your door was open and you had earphones on — i called your name but you didn't hear me- did you draw these?" suddenly, your breath caught in your throat, rambling being cut off as you peered down at the sketchbook in your hands, filled with mystical drawings. there was a dragon splayed across two pages along with gargoyles hiding at the corner of the pages, many other creatures you didn't even know the name to on the pages.

"uh- yeah." sitting back in her seat. her eyes were glued to yours, watching your face as your own eyes scanned across the page, face shifted into complete awe at her amazing art work. you stayed silent, eyes blown wide in complete shock. how could someone so young be so... talented?

raking your eyes over the drawing of the dragon once more, you tried to ignore how well the creature had been captured onto the single page, head tilting as you viewed such shading you thought only artists could do. "they're... amazing." breathing out as you looked back up, handing her the book as you suddenly realised you had been overstepping.

"thanks." she chuckled, taking the book out of your hands. with your eyes glued to the ground, you let her take it from your soft grasp. but when her fingers brushed against yours, you tried all that you could to not look up at her with pink flushed cheeks, simply ignoring it as it seemed she had. she placed the book back down on the table, turning in her chair to view you once more. "uhm... did you need something..?" she hadn't said it in a rude way but it was enough to send you back to reality.

"oh!" looking down at the green jacket in your hands. "uhm, maria and tommy said to give you this, you left it in the main hall." it was simply easier to call your parents by their first name in front of ellie, you didn't wish to embarrass yourself by calling them mama or daddy in front of her, it was beyond shameful so you simply stuck to their names, shooting your hand out to hand her the jacket.

"oh, thank you." grasping the jacket but this time her fingers never grazed yours. "probably gonna need this in the morning. last thing i need is to be going on patrol with no jacket." laughing softly at the very unfunny comment before tossing the jacket to the side.

your head perked up. "you're on patrol?" confused brows furrowing together.

"yeah." she squirmed in her seat. "why, something wrong with that?"

"no, no." you quickly defended, shaking your head. "it's just... you're a little young for that, no?"

she shrugged her shoulders. "nothin' i haven't seen before." you nodded your head at that, a little unsure but nonetheless, you were not one to interject. if she said she knew what she was doing, she probably did, after all she had spent more time on the road than anyone else in jackson. "hey, uh, the storm has gotten pretty bad out there." you turned your head in confusion, eyes peering out the window. she wasn't lying. snow now tumbled down outside at a much quicker pace than the small flakes that had fallen on you on your way there. "why don't you stay here for the night, probably too dangerous to walk back now anyway."

you turned your head back slowly, mind registering the words ellie had just spoken. you had never had a sleepover before, and you were sure that this wasn't a sleepover at all, but your mind couldn't help but jump in ecstasy. "uhm..." your parents wouldn't even notice, if anything, they'd be over the moon at the thought of their daughter spending time with someone her age. "are you sure you don't mind?" shuffling your feet against the wooden floor, hopping from foot to foot.

she almost laughed at you, blinking at you. " 'course not." as if you were being absurd. she stood from the seat, pushing herself towards her drawers. "you can wear some of my clothes for the night but they uh, might be a little big." she eyed you, noticing that you were shorter than her, not by a great amount but enough to make her clothes baggy on you.

"i don't mind." you smiled gently at the girl who was already grinning at you. "thank you, ellie." you weren't used to people your age being nice to you. usually, they were beyond rude which was more or less why you had put yourself in a shell. you knew you'd get nowhere in making friends so what was the point? your parents obviously thought very differently. so it was safe to say that ellie williams, a rather scary teenager, being quite kind to you was a rather foreign feeling, something inside you screaming at you, stating that she was playing some kind of a joke on you, it was a game, all a game. but the way her eyes softened when she looked at you had your knees weak and the wall you had built up slowly chipping.

she shrugged, tossing a long white shirt your way. "that's what friends are for."

you caught the t shirt. friends? the ellie williams wanted to be your friend?

that was the first sleepover of many. ellie williams was an exact opposite of you, that was the exact reason why you were the perfect match. everyone in jackson adored you as if you were their own daughter but despite that, you were rather reserved. you didn't have many friends your age, dina and jesse maybe, but you weren't close with them, not like you were with ellie. she was outgoing, bubbly, everyone adored her just as much, the only difference was that she was much more popular with the people your age. she had gone through so many girls it baffled you and now she was on the next, cat was her name, and ellie seemed infatuated by her.

but despite her going through her fair share of girls she always told you one thing, as corny as it was that you were 'her main girl' always and forever, you couldn't deny that the words had your cheeks heating up an embarrassing amount.

you were never good with people your age, not good at keeping conversations or starting them. you always had a problem with opening your mouth around them but with ellie, it was the exact opposite. she was so easy to talk to, a complete breath of fresh air in a world you never imagined yourself being happy in.

you did everything together, went everywhere together, you were practically attached to her hip by the time you were both nineteen. like now, as you stood with your hands on her shoulders in attempts to keep your balance. she was leaned down on one knee, the other propped up with your left foot placed on it, tying your shoelaces with ease. "should we check the east estate?" you questioned, fumbling with the fabric of your gloves. this wasn't a new thing, it seemed as though you always tracked around with your shoe laces untied, ellie constantly commented on it, stating that you'd someday fall and break your head open. you always rolled your eyes and called her dramatic until you actually fell over and then she'd bend down and tie them for you, despite your angry protests. today wasn't like no other, the white snow dusting across the knees of your jeans served as proof.

"jesse and dina did yesterday." she shrugged. you had been designated patrol partners upon the day of your very first patrol, you begged your parents to assign you together. they tried to get you out there, talking to other people and making new friends but after too many nights of you returning with tear stained cheeks, they decided that ellie was enough. her face suddenly contorted. "yeah we should probably check." patting the back of your calf to let you know you could bring your foot back down.

the boot on your foot crunched against the snow while you looked up at the girl as she stood, taller than you, she had grown a great deal since she was fourteen. "thought you said jesse and dina checked yesterday." following her in the snow, she knew the tracks much better than you did.

she gave you the smallest of smirks that you couldn't understand. you were so innocent, she thought, then again it was hard to be educated in a world alike their own. "they weren't doing anything except for getting in eachother's pants, sweetheart." that pretty nickname that always had your cheeks set aflame.

a mix between the pet name and the words that had fallen from her mouth as if it were nothing had your whole face a beat red. "oh." fell from your lips while the girl chuckled at you, fixing the straps of her backpack. you were thankful to be standing behind her now for you were sure that if she had been at eye level with you, she would have seen your flustered face and that was simply something you didn't need her seeing.

the east estate came into the clearing quicker than you thought, you had also finished much earlier than intended so there was nothing to do other than raid the nearby houses. "so..." you trailed off, attempting to make conversation from behind ellie, her gun in her hands as she peeked around a corner, nervous as your nonchalant figure stood behind her, gun hidden somewhere in your bag. you really were too clumsy for this job. "how are you and cat." the name rolling off in a way you didn't like, it made you almost disgusted in yourself.

"fine." she opened the last bathroom door, shoulders relaxing as she began rooting through the shelves. you made yourself busy in the bedroom that was attached to it, you couldn't imagine living in a house so big. "I told you we're not serious."

"wouldn't matter if you were." you mumbled so lowly that the girl didn't even hear it, she had just assumed that you dropped the subject altogether. the silence was swiftly cut off when you opened a box, finding a chess box inside. "oh my god!"

ellie came out from the bathroom swiftly, her gun clutched tightly between her fingers. you hadn't even noticed her demeanour slouching as she realised you were excited, not scared. "hey, weren't you lookin' for one of those?" nodding at the box of chess inside your hands.

"yeah, it's so cool!" it was a glass set, the one that you had in fact, been searching for. you adored chess, it was a way to ease the mind but you had never come across a glass set, as badly as you had wanted it. "wonder if the people who used to live here liked chess." you placed it down on the bed and moved around to the other side of the room, pulling open one of the drawers.

"what are you doin'?" leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, you turned to her baffled, confused as to what you were doing wrong. "I mean, why aren't you packin' it?"

you shrugged your shoulders, glancing back at the set. "no room in my bag." and you were travelling on feet today meaning you didn't have your horse to carry an extra bag. your own bag had been filled to the brim with both food and some medical supplies along with your gun lost somewhere, you didn't have room for a stupid chess board. besides, you were sure that if your mother saw you bring it in through the gates she would wear a disapproving face and tell you that you shouldn't be looking out for things like that, you were out there to get stuff for the town, there was no need to be so selfish.

ellies brows were furrowed. "but you wanted it." as unfair as the situation was, you simply rolled your shoulders with a small laugh.

"doesn't matter." you stated, closing the drawers. "it's not that important anyway." ellie loved tommy and maria, truly, but she couldn't deny that they were more leader than they were parents at times. they often belittled you, stated that your interests didn't matter, that you were truly just a spec in the massive town but ellie knew they had to realise you were much more than a member of jackson, you were their daughter. "should we go back now?"

ellie took a glance out the window, it was beginning to get dark. "one more house, then we can go back." to which you nodded her head and exited the bedroom. the bedroom in the next home was an exact replica except for the different sheets and the wallpaper, along with the fact that the vanity was from a different store. this made you realise that the houses were probably already furnished before they were sold. "oh, look." ellie spoke as you looked up from the magazines you were flicking through. "cat loves cats, ironic." she laughed and stare down at the necklace in her hands, a black cat pendant on the silver chain.

you moved closer towards it, it truly was pretty. it reminded you of how ellie had given you a necklace once of a pink gem heart, you still wore it around your neck every day. you ignored the rising bile in your stomach and swallowed harshly, unsure if why you suddenly felt a little hot. "why don't you bring it back to her?" looking at it over ellie's shoulder. the sudden thought of ellie standing behind cat, clasping the back of the necklace together with a smile on her face caused your head to spin, and not in a way that you liked. you couldn't understand why you were feeling like this, perhaps it was because ellie williams was your best friend and the thought of her leaving, picking someone over you, was truly bone crushing. or perhaps it was because you never really had a best friend before and you didn't wish to loose the one you had made.

"nah." plopping it back down on the table. you furrowed your brows at her, if she knew that she would like it, why not gift it to her? when ellie turned, she noticed the confused look on your face. "I told you, it's not like that." and suddenly you were hyper aware of the necklace around your neck that she had gifted you, surely you weren't like that either. then again, it didn't really count because it was for your birthday and as your best friend, she probably just felt the need to buy something for you. maybe it was pity, maybe it was guilt, you just had to accept the fact that ellie williams in no way felt that way for you. then again you didn't either, right? so what was the big deal. perhaps you were just jealous that you thought your best friend had picked a new friend, you decided to ignore it, swallowing down the annoyed feeling. "you okay?"

you swallowed, pushing your feet around. "are we ready to go back?" dodging the question completely, it was easier to do this than lie, you didn't like to lie, especially to ellie. lying that you were okay was one thing but you knew ellie, she wouldn't leave it there, she'd make you promise and you don't break promises.

ellie knew better than to start something here, now, so she simply nodded her head, pursing her lips as she picked her bag up off the ground. "yeah, lets go." you nodded your own head, making sure to fix the straps of your bag before leaving the house you were in, ready to walk back to jackson with snow crunching beneath your feet.

the walk home was quiet, not an uncomfortable silence but instead one that hazily loomed over you both, one that you were well used to by now. "so..." kicking the snow underneath her feet, ellie cleared her throat. "your mom talk to you about that party tonight?" it was a gathering in the main hall, one with alcohol so naturally ellie's brain wired itself into believing it was a party, she had convinced herself and everyone around her.

you knew better than to contradict what she was saying and instead nodded your head. "mhm." humming. "you going?" you turned to face her, nose upturned. you were always forced into these events, whether you wished to be there or not. usually, the reasoning behind this was to 'get you out there' was what your parents told you, anyway, stating that you 'needed people in your life other than ellie' you begged to differ, ellie williams was enough for you.

"probably." kicking the snow underneath her feet, you could hear something in her bag rattling, you shrugged it off for cans hitting against one another or something hollow holding small continents that didn't take up enough space. "can't leave you all alone now, can I?" and despite the fact she spoke with a grin, you nodded your head, knowing that the only reason she was actually going was, in fact, to make sure that you weren't alone. "why're you so silent today?" though you had only begun your silent spell the minute the name 'cat' was uttered from the girls lips.

you shrugged your shoulders. "jus' tired." but you couldn't wear the image from your head. cat turned around as ellie tied the necklace to her neck from behind. cat wasn't a girly girl, though, unlike you, no, she never wore skirts, had little to no jewelry and was rather tough, you supposed that had nothing to do with being girly but everything to do with your insecurities. you were shy, small in tough situations, ellie was sort of a protector, you supposed you were insecure in knowing that ellie didn't have that weight on her shoulders when she was with cat, she didn't have to worry about 'taking care of her' not in the way she did with you, you couldn't deny the guilt that begun to sprout.

"y/n." ellie chuckled, slightly tugging on the bottom stand of your hair to get your attention, you pushed your head away, gazing up at her, you hadn't noticed the way your eyes ever so slightly had begun to gloss over. god, you thought, this was beyond embarrassing. or at least, it should have been. your face should have been red raw and you shouldn't have been able to form a coherent sentence, but it was ellie you were talking to, she knew you inside out, better than you knew yourself, there truly was nothing to be embarrassed about. "get out of your head." and she knew your overthinking like the back of her hand, she knew that once set off, you fell down a not too sweet rabit hole and despite the fact she had absolutely no idea what you were thinking about, she could tell that expression from anywhere, in desperate need of an escape, she provided you with one.

"sorry." you spoke lowly, eyes gazing down at the wet patches on the knee of your jeans, from when you had fallen in the snow beforehand.

"nothin' to be sorry for, angel." head turned upwards as the gates of jackson came into her view. "i'm gonna tell joel to come too, you think your mom and dad need anything?"

you assumed joel would be coming anyway, seeing as tommy was his brother, but you hadn't known for sure, joel wasn't exactly the most reliable man you'd ever met, despite the fact he was your uncle. "doubt it but you should tell him to ask daddy anyway."

you both entered the gates of jackson, smiling to jesse as he took your bag off your back without a word. "will do." ellie turned, a smile slowly curving up on her lips, but before you could bask in her angelic features, she was stumbling backwards, hands pushing out to hold herself and... cat up. cat had thrown her arms around her as if she were a long distant girlfriend, meeting her in an airport, ellie's own hands came down to her waist to stablize her, you suddenly felt the bile rise to your throat, you were going to be sick.

as your breathing turned shallow, your mouth dry and cold, you ignored the way your eyes suddenly stung and simply turned around, you couldn't face it, the sight of them had become too much. you could vaguely remember hearing your name being called from behind you, though you couldn't remember if it were jesse, ellie or even cat who had called it, one task at hand, getting home.

luckily for you, your house wasn't mere minutes from the gates so you arrived home rather briskly. the only downside to this, your eyes had become red rimmed and it had not yet wore off, your mother also stood inside the kitchen with a woman named donna, a lovely woman who was helping out with tonight's gathering. "hey sweet-" she cut herself off, noticing the small tears in your eyes. "what happened?"

you turned, embarrassment filling your face. "I- uhm, cut my knee really bad, gonna go up to the bathroom and clean it." you were a bad liar, a terrible one even but what else was there to say? you couldn't even decipher why you were sad yourself. you couldn't possibly be... jealous? could you? no. not a chance.

"show me a look." she almost demanded, voice still as soft as honey.

"no- no, it's okay." already halfway up the stairs as your concerned mother stood next to a confused donna. "it doesn't even hurt that bad, i'll be down soon." and without waiting for another word, you had pushed yourself right up the stairs and into the bathroom, locking the door.

for as long as you could remember, your bathroom had been a solitude for you, a safe haven. sure, your bedroom had a lock but it wasn't used unless emergencies so you knew better than to use it every time you were upset, which proved to be often as you grew up and realised just how utterly sensitive you were. you sat on the bathroom floor, breathing irregular but you squeezed your eyes shut, pushing your head onto your knees and wondered, what was all of this even from? surely, you weren't that upset just because you thought you weren't ellie's favourite anymore.

whatever the case, all you knew was that the tears didn't stop until later that night when you sat in front of your vanity, applying little blotches of make up.

you weren't typically a make up girl but you knew you had to do something to get rid of these stupid tear stains on your cheeks. finally, you had fixed your face enough to know that no one, not even ellie williams herself, would be able to spot how hard you cried that morning. then, you slipped on your dress that your mother had picked out for you.

(the dress bc i want you guys to be able to see the idea i had with this)

and in less than a half hour, you stood inside the main hall, a bowl of treats in your hands as you went around to the younger ones, passing them out, also passing them out to the adults who stared a little too long, making their longing and shame both very apparent. you didn't mind however, smiling sweetly before offering them one to which they greedily dug in.

you spoke to a lot of people that night, stopped to conversate with some that you wouldn't have if you were under different circumstances. you could feel eyes piercing into you, the ones belonging to giddy teenagers who, for some reason, found enjoyment in what you could only guess was talking about you. you didn't much care for the teenagers of jackson, sure, you adored ellie williams with your whole heart and you found comfort in dina and jesse, an on and off couple from the minute you met them but other than that, you didn't really have friends. they made you feel different, a kind of different that made you question if there were something wrong with you, there had to be, if so many people truly could not get along with you. you talked to the elderlies, to the adults, even to the kids, but the teenagers... the teenagers you steered clear of.

you spoke to dina and jesse earlier that night, however, they had run off the minute the alcohol that they shouldn't have been drinking hit their system and suddenly they had disappeared into thin air. your eyes searched the room as you bit on your thumb, well aware of the teenage laughter behind you, aimed directly at you.

where was ellie? it was approaching eleven o clock, some people had headed home, the couples too lazy to wait any longer, the parents who's kids needed their rest, some of the elderlies who needed sleep just as much as the kids. ellie said she'd be here, the thought of her missing it because she and cat had some sort of run in made your stomach sick and yet it was the only thing you could think of, it had to be the only excuse. i mean, cat was no where to be spotted either.

you sat at one of the tables, chin resting in the palm of your hand, your shoes had begun to get uncomfortable and your hair seemed too tight, you were sure a little mascara had smudged beneath your eyes too, despite the many times you rubbed it away with your finger. ellie wasn't one to not stick to what she told you, she wasn't one to stand you up either. but you knew how it was, cat was hers and she was cats despite the many times she told you they weren't, you knew that, so why were you disappointed to think she chose her over you?

the thought of ellie hugging her tight, kissing her lips, even down her neck, you could feel your stomach turning. you wanted nothing more than to get the image out of your head. to your luck, or maybe not, you were brought back to life with a tap on your shoulder. "y/n, hey!" that was a voice you recognised all too well, your stomach turned even more than it already had. was there anything that was going good for you that night?

you turned around, standing up as if you were nervous to be in the girls presence, she giggled at this. "hi, kady." kady was a pretty girl, one that was beyond popular, for reasons you were still unsure about. sure, she was pretty, she had a large circle of friends but to this day you couldn't decipher why people liked her. she was a cruel teenage girl, one who invalidated others to make her own head bigger than it already was, truly, it was a surprise to you that she could even fit in the door.

upon the years that you grew up in jackson, kady had always treated you as though you were someone below her. and maybe you were, you had grown used to the way she acted around you, her unacceptable behaviour towards you had grown seemingly acceptable, simply because you wouldn't stand up for yourself. "having fun by yourself?" she had a grin on her face, one that would have looked polite and sweet but truly was nothing other than conceited. "oh gosh, i don't mean it like that." quick to correct herself noticing the way your face had fallen. "I just mean... you know, i thought ellie would spare some time away from cat for the evening but i guess not."

you simply shrugged your shoulders, not wishing to buy into this any longer. "she's probably just busy." mumbling. you always felt yourself become smaller around kady, as if you were truly a child once more and she was picking on you once more, causing you to go running home to your mother with dewey eyes, they brushed it off with you being too sensitive.

"probably with cat, if you know what i mean." wriggling her brows at you suggestively, you simply bit your lip and turned away. "i was kinda surprised when they got together, i always thought you guys would get together."

your head snapped towards her at that statement. "what?" suddenly your breath grew short. "why would you think that?" you had a secret, one no one could know, not even the pages of your diary, one you had begun to accept that very morning, now, however, you wished nothing more than to flush it down the drain.

"come on, y/n, we're not blind." rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her black tank top. "you follow her around like a lost puppy, it's pathetic." your gut twisted, her words forming a knot in your stomach. "i mean, it's probably for the best she's with cat, i don't think anyone would be able to stick a relationship with you."

you looked up, ignoring the way your eyes annoyingly began to sting. you hated how sensitive you were, you were a crybaby, an annoying, pathetic crybaby. "kady can you just... leave me alone." your voice broke, as did your heart, shattering right on the floor in that very second.

"god, do you hear yourself?" she was laughing, as if any of this was truly funny. "face it, y/n, you're never going to be anything other than the irritating little girl you were as a kid, you're never going to change, you're never going to get someone like ellie williams to love someone like you." what did that even mean? your mind spun, your head felt queasy, your eyes hazy.

you didn't say anything else, you weren't going to entertain it, you pushed past a laughing kady, practically throwing her head back at the state you were in now.

you pushed past everyone else, ignoring the strange looks you got at the sight of your tear stained cheeks, ignoring the way your throat begun to hurt an abnormal amount. only one thing in your mind.

"you're never going to get someone like ellie williams to love someone like you."

it rung through your mind causing your whole body to shift, you wanted to go home, get to bed and cry. you wanted to cry your heart out and ignore ellie williams for eternity. why? because you knew that you had already fallen deeply in love with her and there wasn't even the slightest possibility she felt some way remotely alike that to you. you blamed yourself, not her, but that didn't mean you could ever face her again.

just as you though the night couldn't possibly get any worse, already drowned in the heavy rain pattering against your skin, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. you walked directly into something, or more specifically, someone. arms instantly reached out, stabilizing you both. you turned your nose up, just about to apologise for your rudeness before you caught sight of who it was. "y/n, what-" you cut the brunette girl off before she could speak anymore.

"where were you?!" your hands pushed her back and ellie stumbled backwards, stunned at your actions with wide eyes and mouth fallen agape. "you told me you'd be there and you weren't! you told me you would!" she couldn't understand why you were so mad and why your face had been covered in mascara and ugly fat tears that clouded your pretty eyes.

"y/n, i'm sorry i didn't think it would be a big deal-" attempting to walk closer to you once more. "I was with cat and-"

"of course you were!" taking your own steps back, ellie's brows furrowed in confusion. "you're always with s-stupid cat!"

ellie couldn't understand where all of this was coming from, she thought you liked cat for you had gushed over how sweet she was a number of times before she and ellie were ever even a thing. "y/n, i'm sorry!" she pushed herself towards you but before you could get away, her hands were falling on your forearms. "i should have been there, i know, i'm sorry, i messed up."

you shook your head, ignoring the way your tears had mixed with the heavy rain pattering against your frail skin. "y-you picked her." your words just above a whisper and due to the heavy rain, ellie had hardly heard you.

"what?" sudden confusion washing over her. ellie was a girl of her word but it wasn't rare for her to not show up to things, she always apologised profusely and did everything in her power to make it up to you, what was rare, however, was this reaction sprouted from you.

you turned your head, sighing heavily and squeezing your eyes shut, you wanted to be at home, in bed. "it doesn't matter." hands moving to wipe your face, ignoring the way ellie's own hands fell from your arms, causing instant warmth to be retracted. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." suddenly, you felt as though it were all your fault.

ellie was your best friend, albeit, just a friend. she owed you nothing. and you had no place to be this angry with her for being with someone when you were nothing. "what- no, no, why are you sorry?" you shook your head once more, taking a step back. she wasn't having it. she was in front of you again in an instant, her hands coming down to take in your face.

silence washed over you both, the only sound to be heard was the constant patter of rain against the ground beneath you and your breaths that had grown slightly heavier now that you were so close. her warm hands completely contradicted your freezing face, a beautiful contrast as they slowly caressed your pretty skin. "talk to me, angel." her words a soft lull. "don't shut me out."

your mind was racing as ellie williams stood exactly where you wanted her, where you needed her. but would you risk everything you've ever created with her for something she may not even have thought about before? no, you told yourself, you couldn't. but the louder, the stronger, part of yourself screamed at you to. "i can't say it." you opted for, mouth scrunching in distaste as your voice wobbled like a child. an absolute crybaby.

ellie shook her head, auburn locks shaking with it. "yes you can, baby." thumbs moving against your skin. "say the words and i'll make the sentences if i have to just... say something." and the way her own voice cracked, the way her desperate walls began to fall down, suddenly, you wondered if she already knew. she had to have. did she think the same way you did? had she already had this conversation a thousand times in her head like you did? did she imagine this very scenario a million times over just alike you did?

suddenly, your head felt light.

suddenly, your breath slowed.

suddenly, your thoughts fell right out of your mind.

suddenly, her lips looked so sweet.

suddenly, your own her on hers.

you pushed your head upwards, your lips crashing into her own. her hands instantly fell to your waist, holding you. your own hands were brought up, sure the cloth of your sleeves were still stuck to your hands but you didn't care, for you would have much rathered to hold her face no matter the situation. slowly, the tears vanished as your lips moved against her own, you melted into her, in a way that you had never melted before, you were a puddle. ellie took over in an instant, her face pushed against yours, lips moving hasitly as if she was scared you'd disappear.

however, you eventually pulled away for air, your lungs squeezed together as you panted against her lips, one hand holding her cheek, the other at the back of her neck. you looked up at her with your pretty doe eyes, a smile soon formed on her lips as they curved upwards. "just so you know." she panted, too out of breath. "i'd choose you." lips pushing against yours for a gentle peck. "a million times over."

that night was filled with a thousand more kisses and a gift from ellie, surprisingly enough. a certain glass chess set sitting a top her bed as she grinned at you. it was like that. not with cat but with you.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 1

Part 1:

When they were kids, Liana and Art didn't like each other. To be more precise, they couldn't stand each other. They were born in the same month, and because their parents were such good friends, they always celebrated their birthdays together. Since Art was born two weeks after her and his grandmother firmly believed that one should not celebrate in advance, Liana never celebrated her birthday on its actual date, and that was a good enough reason to hate Art Donaldson forever.

When they were 7 years old (or more precisely, he was seven, and she was seven and two weeks), Art received his first tennis racket, and Liana got a small skateboard with a Pokémon design. He cried. Of course, he cried; everything Liana had, Art wanted too. He didn't know how to share anything, and eventually, Liana was forced to let him use her skateboard whenever they met, which unfortunately was at least once a week.

"You don't even know how to ride it," she tried to instill some logic into the blonde boy. "Do you?" he asked curiously. "Not yet, but I'll learn, duh," she rolled her eyes at him. "Then I'll learn too," he shrugged and went to wash his face, returning a few minutes later as if nothing had happened.

Only those who knew Art well understood what Liana knew - he was a crybaby who was never satisfied with what he already had. His friends passed around the racket he received as if it were a chocolate cake while he continued to glance at Liana, who was trying to balance on the skateboard and nearly fell.

At the age of 12, Art was accepted into the fancy tennis boarding school he couldn't stop talking about to anyone who would listen (even those who wouldn't), and Liana was the first to arrive at the party held in his honor. She was so excited. As far as she was concerned, Art wouldn't be coming back. There was a high chance that now, with him gone, she could convince his parents that it wasn't worth maintaining him at home. He was too much of a headache, and they were too good-hearted to keep enduring his presence.

Instead of that happening, he came back with a curly-haired addition named Patrick Zweig. They shared a room at the boarding school, and now he spent half the summer with them. Every time Liana wanted to do something like go to the pool with her friends, her parents would say that the Donaldsons had a pool at their house. Every time she wanted to lie on the grass and read a book, the two noisy boys would decide to play right in front of her, until she gave up on the book and had no choice but to stare at them. It was a pity her plan didn't work, sadly Art didn't stay at his stupid boarding school forever.

By the age of 17, it was clear to everyone that Art was good at tennis. Really good at tennis. He won youth singles competitions and also did well in doubles with Patrick. Her parents forced her to attend quite a few of these tournaments.

"Li, I think you're my lucky charm," he said in front of everyone at dinner after one of the tournaments, smiling a smile that only Liana knew was malicious. Everyone melted at the touching gesture of the ultimate champion taking time for the girl he grew up with, but Liana knew Art too well. He couldn't fool her with his feigned niceness, his suddenly acquired manners. She knew him too well and knew that everything he did was always about embarrassing her and making her do something she didn't want to do. "So, are you suggesting I stop coming to your games?" she asked, taking a bite of chicken, throwing a smile of her own. Two could play this game. "You're going to be at most of my games for the rest of our lives anyway," he shrugged while Liana raised an eyebrow, and the adults around the table laughed as if they knew something Liana and Art didn't. Later, Liana sat on a chair by the pool, and Art sat next to her. She looked at him with the same expression as before, and he raised one hand in surrender. "I come with peace offerings," he pulled out a cake and two spoons from behind his back. Her raised eyebrow turned into suspicion. "What do you want?" she reached for one of the spoons. "I missed you, Li. Tell me something good," he took a bite of the cake and in response got another eye roll that made him lightly slap her hand as it reached for the cake. "You're not getting any until I hear at least one interesting story," he moved the cake as far from her as he could. "I'll just go in and get a piece for myself," she replied quickly. "There’s no more. I took the last one," he took another bite, knowing she was starting to worry about how much cake would be left for her if he finally agreed to let her have some. "I started working on my applications to Stanford," she said, and he moved the cake closer to her, finally letting her eat.

"How's it going?" he asked. They both knew Stanford was a big deal; their families had history there. Art's parents got engaged there. Everything in their lives revolved around getting into Stanford. "I'll be fine. I'm in all the extracurriculars at school, student council, and prom committees. My essay is a bit boring, needs more work, but I have a year, so maybe something will change," she shrugged and saw he hadn't eaten the last bite of the cake, leaving it for her.

"Write about your best friend and what it's like growing up in the shadow of the best tennis player in America," he said with a serious tone, and after a few seconds, he started laughing. "Write about how you miss me," he added. His laughter faded a bit as he studied her, and she went back to looking at the pool. "If I decide to lie in my university application essay, I'd rather write that I got into a modeling agency and live a double life like Hannah Montana," she replied without looking at him. "You're mean," he chuckled and stared at the pool, enjoying the silence between them.

When they went inside, Liana saw there was still half a cake left, and Art, noticing her look, just shrugged and went to talk to her dad about basketball. A year later, things got a bit complicated. Liana had a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything too serious, but he came to her and Art’s joint birthday party. Needless to say, Art and Patrick couldn’t stand him. Patrick said he smiled too much, like he wanted everyone to like him. "How can you trust a guy with a smile like that?" he asked for the third time that evening, as they stood there watching Liana talk to her parents with Jake holding her hand. "All his teeth are in place," Art responded. He felt betrayed. He felt as if tennis had betrayed him. If it weren’t for tennis and the boarding school, he would still be going to the same school Liana went to. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her, certainly not for long enough for her to have a boyfriend with a smile like that. "Do you think they’ve fucked?" Patrick asked suddenly, making Art turn his head sharply in his direction. "You think they did?" he asked back. "I don’t know. You know her better. I only talk to her on the phone occasionally," Patrick shrugged. "You talk to her on the phone???" Art asked, unable to process this new information. In his view, there wasn’t an option to talk to Liana unless she came to watch him play or their parents arranged for them to meet. The thought that Patrick and Liana had phone talks and didn’t just meet in the summer made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that’s what phones are for, to call people you miss," Patrick chuckled, but quickly returned to the same expression as he watched Liana and the quick kiss her annoying boyfriend gave her. "In front of her dad," they said together. Art knew her dad well. He knew that gesture wasn’t appreciated. "What do you talk to her about on the phone?" He was a bit embarrassed asking. He felt like he was losing to everyone. Losing to Liana, losing to Jake, and worst of all, losing to Patrick. "Just stuff. She called when she got accepted to Stanford, for example. I promised her I’d take her out for ice cream this summer to celebrate. And she said she stole a bottle of wine from her parents and celebrated with her friends," Patrick felt like he was rambling. He knew Liana and Art didn’t talk on the phone. He didn’t want to compete with his best friend because, well, he was his best friend. But Art had a significant advantage with Liana. He’d known her all his life. And if someone with such an advantage wasn’t making the most of it, Patrick had to step in. He had to show Art he was also in the picture. That even if they both went to Stanford, Patrick would still be around.

What none of them considered was that Liana could choose someone else entirely. That someone else might win. Come to think of it, neither of them even saw her that way. She was just Liana, the girl who was always there, in the background of their lives. And neither of them planned to change that anytime soon. Well, anyway, Jake had to disappear.

here it is. Once again, English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing in it. Hope you like it as much as I love writing it. I'd really like to hear your thoughts so don't stop yourselves from hitting the ask box ❤️

[kindaasrikal]

Cole headcanons, because apparently when I’m bored I think about Cole (and Morro, and Cryptor, surprisingly enough):

Cole is annoyingly acrobatic. In fact, when they first started doing their ninja stuff he was the most flexible and acrobatic, when it would make more sense if it was Jay or Kai due to their builds or elements. Not once did he ever share the reason as to why being Lou putting him into ballet, gymnastics, and having him train at home to peak flexibility because Lily was the one who did it before, so Lou was not gonna stop until Cole reaches Lily’s expectations. (Lily used to do the splits easily in front of Cole and Cole was determined to do that too, no one could stop the force that was baby Cole. As much as Lou started the idea, he wanted to stop because he kept thinking it was too much. It was Cole staring him dead in the eyes and saying ‘Mama wants me to’ that pushed him to continue. The dance stuff was all him though). He actually helped Jay train into being more flexible pre-pilots and later helped Nya do the same.

Cole understood Lloyd’s desire for sweets a bit too much, and instead of pushing it down and making Lloyd learn control, he encouraged it and now Wu had too deal with two sugar rushed ninja.

Cole used to argue with Kai all the time when they first began training together, until one day he had had enough. When Kai huffed and walked away after a particularly heated argument where not even Nya could get Kai to calm down and Zane and Jay couldn’t pull the two apart, Cole stomped up behind the shorter male, picked him up, and teddy bear hugged him until Kai apologised. It’s Cole’s version of when older siblings keep you head locked until you apologise. Kai was an embarrassed mess because Cole wouldn’t stop complimenting him and sharing his point of view like a healthy adult whilst he was still huffing. He didn’t argue with Cole for the next week and agreed each time the other told him to do something. Nya couldn’t stop laughing each time Jay and Zane mimicked the moment. The only reason Cole did that was because he remembered a big argument between his mum and dad when he was younger, and when it got heated from his dads side, his mum just picked Lou up and held him until he calmed down and she was able to think with a clearer mind.

Cole absolutely LOVES throwing dirt at people, and when they found out Nya’s element, he was able to convince her into helping him make mud to throw at people. They had to run when Zane had enough and froze the mud to chase them with it.

Cole likes to pop out of the ground at random times. Lloyd had to quickly learn to watch where he stepped, less his foot connects to Cole’s face again.

Cole actually planned to sell fake ‘special, one of a kind rocks!’ During that one time they were poor as dirt. It would’ve worked amazingly well too, seeing as everyone knew he was the earth ninja. Despite Wu not being there to tell him off, Kai had fun smacking Cole over the head for that idea.

Cole is probably the only ninja completely willing to commit crimes, especially fraud and theft.

Similarly to how Jay had to teach Zane how to live a tad more normally and how to understand society, Cole had to do the same with Kai and Nya. Wu could not be trusted because everyone realised he was just a tad of a recluse.

You know how Nya stepped onto that soulmate machine thing and it said Cole was her perfect match? Well, after Cole threw away his weird need to prove it right (lowkey think he was just matching the energy Jay had given and got petty) he called his dad up and explained it all and how they somewhat worked it out but it was still weird with Nya, and Lou lowkey just laughed at him, and reminded Cole of all those fairytale book’s he used to read and how they tended to explore the topics of found family and friends. Cole didn’t understand, but Lou explained that soulmates aren’t just the people you love romantically, but the people you love platonically. Cole and Nya sat down together just an hour later and Cole had to share this epiphany to the person he considered a sister, and understood him just like he understood her.

Cole is usually dragged into helping Pixal in her personal projects due to his strength, but he knows she also enjoys his company.

Cole and Vania share late night texts about their lives after not talking for weeks and they talk for HOURSSS just sharing everything they’ve been through recently.

Cole struggled to learn how to swim. Mainly because his element enjoyed making him more sinkable rather than floatable.

Cole went through the phase of having decently tight curls as a child, to loose and flowy hair, to extremely tight curls. He likes having a new hair style every week, from wavy hair and ponytails, to dreads and puffs.

He wears hoodies in the hottest of heats just to prove to Kai that he can. (He can’t its all sweaty by the end of the day)

If Morro stuck around Cole would absolutely force him into living and healing. Ghost duo my beloveds 🫶

Yes these are head canons leave me alone ajdghdhd

Cole the man that you are.

Edit: guys why is it telling me this is a mature post i swear its just cole being a lil loser

I FIXED IT NVM

[paddockbunny]

Hey! Could you maybe write Either Lando/Charles smut with 2&5. like Max walks in and he‘s the resders Brother and it‘s embarrassing and stuff. Maybe its like soft Sex if you know what i mean? Like all Gentle and stuff as Max walks in and is like: What the fuck! That‘s my Sister! Maybe could you do it like they were having a secret relationship? If you don‘t like the Idea or can‘t write it bc i am really bad at explaining, that‘s fine don‘t worry. Hope you have a great Day/Night!

“That’s my sister”

Summary: You didn’t mean to fall for Lando Norris- your brothers opponent - and what started as just sex quickly turned into a lot, lot more….but what happens when your brother Max finds out? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader (Max Verstappen’s younger sister). Word Count : 3,869. Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult material, adult language, PinV sex mention, sneaking around, J*s Verstappen, angry family situation, angsty vibes. 💞 Authors Note : Im so sorry this isn’t the best work I’ve put out but I am choked full of the cold and convinced I have the flu I’m feeling so bad rn. Anyway, I’ll put the “read more” thing in when I can because I know that annoys some people.

His loud groan flowed into your ear as lazily his hips jerked a few more times till he was totally spent. His breathing was just as crazed and erratic as yours. The mutual high that electrified both of your bodies was by now addictive and you weren’t sure you could quit it even if your life depended upon it. Lando’s forehead pressed against yours momentarily, still trying to catch his breath, before he pulled back and glared down at you. He drank you in. Wanting to savour the look on your face as much as you did with his. Until finally, he gave you what you wanted. He kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours and the action distracted you from him pulling out.

Your eyes followed him as he rolled off of you and lay on his back, a smirk dancing playfully across his mouth turned into a somewhat boastful smile when he saw that you were still watching him. He didn’t need to ask if you were satisfied, the fact you had just been breathily moaning his name repeatedly for the past few minutes as he edged you closer and closer to an orgasm told him that already.

The pair of you stayed like that for a while. Just simply laying there side by side, not saying anything at all, just listening to each other as breathing became less of a task and returned to normal. You knew you had to move, get redressed and return back to your hotel, and yet there was nothing in the world you wanted to do less. You wished you could stay here for the night. In Lando’s arms, perhaps having a round two (or three) and then falling asleep curled up together but that wasn’t possible. Instead you took a deep breath and slipped out from under the covers. “Already?” He asked sounding a little melancholy. You couldn’t find words as you looked for your disregarded underwear so only nodded. He sat up, resting his head on the headboard and watched you while you began to get redressed. You didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to see his face tinged with something that resembled sadness or worse, annoyance. “Are you leaving tomorrow? After the race?” “Uh…” you pulled your bra up your arms, situated your boobs and and reached around to clasp it around your back. “Yeah, I think so. Seven I think.” You shrug knowing exactly what was about to come out of Lando’s mouth. “Do you have to? Can you stay another day? Fly home with me on Monday night?” “Lando….” His name rolled off your tongue with a sad frustrated sound. You had been here before. He did this all the time. He always attempted to guilt trip you into staying, with him, longer than you actually could. “And what do I tell Max? Huh? Why I want to stay here another day?” You sighed and found your jeans. Shoving your feet into them before yanking them up and over your ass while he watched. Silently.

By the time you had put all of your clothes back on, gone to the bathroom and made yourself look presentable again, Lando had come up with a response to the little problem of your brother.

“Why don’t we just tell him?” You couldn’t hold back your sarcastic sounding laugh. “I’m serious.” “Because he will cut your balls off, publicly.” Lando knew you were right. He knew Max would have destroyed him, especially as he had warned him several times not to even think about you or look in your direction because you were off limits to him.

“Fuck!” He let out a frustrated, piss off expletive and banged his head back on the headboard he had been resting it against. The thing was, you weren’t ready to tell your brother yet and it wasn’t because you were scared of how he would react. It was because it made you and Lando official. And by being official with Lando you would become a target for his fans just like his ex-girlfriend had been. But it would be worse because you were a Verstappen and so you’d have your older brothers army coming after you as well. So if you were being completely truthful, you didn’t know if you’d ever be ready to be “out” with Lando. But right now, you hated leaving him like this. So pent up and frustrated, not at you but at the situation. You glanced at him as you checked your bag to make sure you hadn’t left anything and your heart pinged in your chest. He was so fucking handsome and you always had to play a war between your heart and your head when it came to him.

“I’ll see you next weekend.” You sat, pausing for a tender moment right beside him on the hotel bed that the pair of you had just made love in. He sat up right and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you. That’s why this whole thing is…” Of all the things you had expected him to say that was not one of them. He hadn’t told you he loved you before so it was all you could focus on. Three stupidly small words that you couldn’t remember ever hearing from another before let alone a guy. And you realised you had frozen when you felt his hand brush tenderly over your cheek as a wave of guilt hit you because you weren’t sure if you could repeat the words back to him just yet. “Lan….” You breathed out his name but he shushed you immediately. “Just because I’ve said it doesn’t mean you have to say it back, not yet. I just wanted you to know.” Your stomach flipped that he knew you better than you knew yourself and then when he kissed you you felt like you were suddenly underwater. You tried but you couldn’t quite place the emotions that were wracking through.

“See you next week?” He asked against your lips and you nodded. “See you next week.” You repeated back to him before taking a deep breath and raising from the bed.

When you closed his hotel room door and headed down the corridor you realised you were broadly smiling. Lando just said he loved you.

He loves you.

And you love him. You just needed to summon the strength to admit it.

But it posed one monumentally large challenge to you. How the hell do you tell your brother?!

One week later

Max had been wittering on about something still bothering him from yesterdays press interviews the whole car ride to the track. You added in the occasional “uh huh” and “yes, Max” to satisfy him but your mind was elsewhere. It was firmly fixated on the back and forth rapid texting going on between you and Lando the past few days. Particularly last nights texts, because those were emblazoned in your mind. They started off innocently enough until Lando outed the fact he had just gotten out of the shower and he was having a especially hard time since the excitement of seeing you soon hit him. And then the inevitable happened and the pair of you had FaceTime sex. And now, as much as it disgusted you as you sat in the car with your brother, you had to cross your legs to try and stem the uncomfortable palpitations going on at the apex of your thighs.

Thankfully, you managed to escape Max as soon as the pair of you arrived in the paddock. Media grabbed him almost immediately (much to his annoyance) meaning you were free to go grab a nice ice cold glass of water to try aid how hot you had gotten from the memories of last nights dirty escapades. As you walked toward the Red Bull hospitality suite you made sure to flash a smile at some of the familiar TV reporters that always seemed to ride your brothers dick. The phoney hello and wave only made you mutter a “fucking prick” under your breath even more. And you were just about safe. Moments from being home free and ascend the stairs to get that much needed drink of water when you saw Lando across the way leaving the McLaren camp with his race suit tied low around his waist. Your mouth salivated at the mere look of him dressed in his race suit. You paused for a second in pure admiration mode until he looked over and caught you staring. If you hadn’t just remembered the thought of his face as he came while getting off to you over video call, you’d have been embarrassed about staring but right now you smirked and looked at him up and down. You watched and Lando tried not to laugh at your response then said something to his media girls before heading over toward you. Your mind went into pure panic mode momentarily as you glanced around to check that Max (nor anyone else that could have gotten you into trouble) would see. Thankfully, everyone seemed far too busy to be bothered.

“See something you like?” Lando grinned cheekily. “You have no idea how much….” You purred right back and he rolled his tongue side to side to stop himself from getting as excited as he did last night. But then he flashed his eyes around and you watched as his jaw clenched as if he was trying to think of anything but you naked. You were just about to tease him further by telling him how hot and bothered you were seeing him with his race suit around his waist and that your panties were growing wetter by the second but he spoke first.

“Are you coming over tonight? I can’t stop thinking about you.” Fuck. He always managed to set you on fire and as you became convinced you were blushing he had accomplished that job. “I can’t tonight. My dad’s flying in and wants to have a family dinner with Max and I.” You rolled your eyes. The thought of sitting at an awkward dinner while your father spoke mainly of racing to Max and ignored you completely, pained you but you didn’t want to tell Lando that. He groaned lowly and rolled his head back dramatically which made you snigger at him. And as he opened his mouth to say something else - no doubt rude and implying you were giving him blue balls - your name was loudly shouted across the paddock.

“Fuck!” You groaned and followed it up with a sigh. “He’s heading over.” Lando stated and although you figured it was better that he left and avoided any sort of conversation with Max in that moment, Lando stayed put.

“What’s going on?” Max eyed the pair of you suspiciously. “Trying to make a move of her again Norris?” You gritted your teeth through sheer embarrassment. Max had consistently played the role of the overprotective older brother since, well, forever. Ever since the dawned on him that his baby sister was something of a stone cold fox Max went into overdrive with the scaring off any and all potential interested males role. Which was exactly why you had to sneak around behind his back. I mean, he would have an absolute coronary if he knew you and Lando had secretly been hooking up (and become a thing) for months. “Perhaps it’s me making a move on him, Max.” You sassed him back and Max just glared at you without a single shred of amusement in his face.

“I’m just going to leave before I get in the middle of a Verstappen V Verstappen fight. I’ll see you around, y/n.” Lando bowed out of the awkwardness of the situation Max had caused but not before he made sure to send you a knowing smug look. And now that you were utterly frustrated with your brother you turned to continue your earlier task and fetch an ice cold glass of water.

Unfortunately for you, Max happened to follow you. “What did he mean by that?” He asked as you reached one of the fridges that sat in the hospitality suite - which was usually full of solely Red Bull but had a secret stash of bottled water down on the bottom shelf behind the branding - and took out a bottle. “Mean by what?” You played dumb. “When he said he would see you later?” “It’s a turn of phrase, Max.” You rolled your eyes, hoping he would buy it. When you turned to him and finally looked at his face you could see the familiar pissed off look that he always had when it came to the thought of you and any guy. It was one that reminded you of your father and that was certainly something you didn’t like. Nervously you swallowed because you knew what was coming. “I don’t like the thought of him getting friendly with you. Norris. He’s not….he’s too immature, to childish for you not to mention a fucking driver and fancies himself as a player.” And there it was. The reason it was so hard for you to tell Max about your budding romance with Lando and the exact reason you had been sneaking about behind his back.

Your leg bounced anxiously under the table. Not because you were nervous but because you were desperate for this fucking shit show of a family dinner to end. You could see it in Max’s face that he wanted to be anywhere but currently sat in the expensive restaurant and you probably mimicked it in your own too, but your father continued. As suspected he spoke about racing the whole time. He sat and went over all of the things Max needed to improve on to win this weekend and you could see the pressure getting more and more piled on your brother by the minute. However, you were almost thankful your father was paying you no attention as it meant you could continue texting Lando under the table and zone out of the awkwardness of the evening altogether. Lando sent you a few funny memes when you complained of being bored and wanting nothing less than a meteorite to come smashing down to earth to get you out of the restaurant. He sent you a photo of his sad face and then another of his empty bed with a stick figure drawn on it that was supposed to be you. You chuckled at that one which you had to cover up with a fake cough.

“Everything ok?” Your dad glanced at you and you nodded. But then it dawned on you this was a perfect way to escape. You could fake illness. Your dad would be so paranoid that you might get Max sick that he would order you to go back to your hotel room and stay away from your brother so not to ruin his chances this week. Max would probably be miffed with you for doing it because it left him alone dealing with Dad but it was a price you were willing to pay to relinquish you from the hell you were currently in. You coughed again and grabbed your water. It was a little over the top and dramatic but you clutched at your throat and rubbed your glands to plant the seed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Once again, your dad glanced in your direction. “I don’t know. I’ve feel a bit yuk all day. I have a sore throat and this funny cough.” Max lowered his head and looked at you with a furrowed brow. He was on to you all most immediately. “Why didn’t you say earlier?” You shrugged at your Dad’s question. “You shouldn’t have come. You could have passed whatever you have on to Max!” He exclaimed.

“I think I should go back to the hotel. Get an early night. It’s probably nothing but I agree, I don’t want to get Maxy sick.” Your eyes darted toward your brother who had a face full of thunder. Your Dad agreed with you and made a hand gesture to hurry your departure up. You heard him tutting as you got up and grabbed your bag. You knew he was about to call you selfish or stupid for endangering Max’s race this weekend but you couldn’t give a fuck. You were out of that room as fast as your feet could carry you and your fingers could text Lando to tell him you were free. As you expected, Lando text you back almost immediately and you laughed loudly when he suggested he sneak into your hotel.

It wasn’t until you walked through the lobby of the Red Bull team hotel and were accosted around the middle by a pair of arms that you realised he was completely serious. A shriek escaped you till you heard Lando saying;

“Shhh, it’s me!” In your ear. You seriously thought he was joking when you initially text him and hadn’t for one single moment thought he was serious. You snapped around and found him with his hood up and hat on, practically trying to disguise himself in an opposing team hotel. “How are you…” You couldn’t even get the words out to ask him how he was even here in the hotel of the competition. “Told them I was meeting with Horner.” He was still pressed up against you, you could feel his body heat radiating off of him and you about lost your mind. Well in fact, you did loose your mind because suddenly you found your mouth on his. Your lips grazed across his but it was Lando that deepened it by running his tongue across your bottom lip and begging you to allow him in. As you did and his tongue collided with yours his hands gripped your body tighter, holding you even closer to himself. But then, as you were utterly lost in the moment, your name was practically shouted across the hotel lobby.

Snapping back, ripping your lips away from Lando’s, you looked straight to the sound of the voice and met your brothers eyes. His face was one of shock and utter pure horror. And suddenly your heart pounded mercilessly in your chest and panic began to ravish your body as he crossed the floor thunderously. You were frozen. Utterly and completely frozen. You had never disappointed him before and this was way beyond disappointment. You’re breath caught in your throat and just before he reached the pair of you you tore yourself off of Lando and stepped away from him toward a Max with your hands stretched out. You saw the slightly manic look in his eyes and you were genuinely concerned. You had seen him angry before but this was a whole other level that reminded you of your father and that terrified you.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” He roared, by passing you completely and promptly gave Lando a very firm shove backwards. “THATS MY SISTER!” He yelled.

“Max!” You tried to pull him back as he pushed Lando again. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He continued and by this point he was causing a scene and the hotel were very obviously calling team security. “Max please, calm down.” You tried to order him but his head snapped to you and his look was one that warned you to stop. As he raised his hands to push Lando again you grabbed hold of him and ducked in between them.

“I love him, Max.” You said it so plainly. “I love him.” You repeated and you realised you hadn’t even said it to Lando yet and here you were telling Max this before him. You hoped that in that moment you declared your love for his fellow driver but also one of his competitors that he saw the expression all over your face and comprehended it as genuine. That you were completely and utterly telling the truth.

An eternity seemed to pass. Silence falling between the three of you. Max stared at you as if you would burst into flames any moment and it killed you seeing him so furious with you because you were so incredibly close as siblings. You felt tears begin to sting your eyes. Then as you thought things were about to go nowhere and this Mexican stand off would continue Max held out a room key to you.

“You forgot this.” He stated bluntly and tentatively you took it from him. Then without a single shred of warning he took off toward the elevators and you turned at breakneck speed around to Lando. Flinging your arms around him and tipping hold of him tightly you felt the sudden, built up tension release from your body. “This might not be the moment but…did you mean it? Do you love me?” You looked into his beautiful, captivating green eyes and nodded. “Max will come round.” “I don’t know, Lando. I know what he’s like and how stubborn he will be. I’ve disappointed him by lying to him, I don’t know how we’ll recover from this.”

Six Weeks Later

“Will you just stop staring at them like that! It’s becoming creepy!” Max’s girlfriend groaned as she noticed how Max had not stopped staring at you and Lando walking hand in hand through the paddock. “Besides, look at her, she’s glowing.” “I fucking hate this.” He gritted his teeth together when he finally attempted to look away but found himself looking back at them again. It was like he was rubbernecking on his sisters new relationship.

“I thought you were coming round to it? You said she seemed happy just last night.” Max had said that. He had said it as he was about to get into bed and had a horrible wave of guilt wash over him about the situation. He saw them together yesterday on media day and they seemed so suited. As much as it killed him to admit it he couldn’t help but think how good they looked with each other. Which meant he now felt like was the worst big brother ever. He had probably overreacted to seeing them kissing in the lobby of the hotel a few weeks ago, and he wasn’t sure she would ever forgive him for that. But now as he watched you throw your head back in riotous laughter as Lando’s face was filled with adoration, he knew he had to accept you had chosen one of his opponents as the man to make you happy.

“I did. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He sighed frustratingly. There was nothing he had said in the six weeks since he found out that he hadn’t already said. He went through all the stages of being angry, hurt and pure denial in short succession. However now, as he observed Lando slipping his hand into yours he accepted he needed to concede defeat and acknowledge that his baby sister was indeed in love with Lando Norris.

“Just go and talk to her. Settle it. Please.” His girlfriends voice seemed like the voice of reason because Max missed you and hated not talking to you. “She might not even want to talk to me….” He sighed heavily because this had been weighing on him all this time and he simply missed her baby sister. “I will…” Max conceded “but not here, not in front of cameras.” He knew he would probably have to grovel and you wouldn’t make accepting his apology easy but he was willing to try because he loved you and that was that. He simply loved you.

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Two

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Pairing(s): John x Daughter!Innocent!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Incest, naive!reader, manipulation, graphic descriptions of porn, fluff, virgin!reader, oral (female receiving), daddy kink *I guess*, praise kink, soft n fluffy, angst (?), light thigh riding, smut implied 

W/C: 5.7k+

A/N: I forgot I was supposed to be posting this story! Happy almost Thanksgiving to my American followers!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Some time ago...

Things started off innocently. Sam and Dean were at school and you were at the motel doing what you usually did- you read, and read, and read, and read until John walked through the doors. 

You were ecstatic to see him. John had been away for a few weeks too wrapped up in the case to even call home. The look of relief in your father's eyes when he saw you was like no other, he loved you more than anything in the world. 

John took you to lunch, saying it was to make up for all the time he missed with you- not bothering to pull Sam and Dean out of school like he usually did. Things seemed normal all throughout lunch, you chose of course, but things changed drastically when he asked you a certain question during the car ride home. 

"Do you know what sex is?" John asked, looking over to you as he kept a firm grip on the steering wheel. 

Your brows furrowed at the question. It sounded familiar, it really did, but you had no idea what it actually meant. 

"I don't think so," You told him calmly and he let out a low chuckle. 

Judging his reaction, it definitely seemed like something you should know about, so you began to feel a little embarrassed at your lack of knowledge. 

"You mean, your brothers never taught you what it was?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and keeping a small smile on his face. 

You shook your head and he didn't seem particularly pleased or displeased. 

"Normally, by your age, you know what it is. You're already legally an adult." John mentioned.

"So then... does Sammy know about this?" You asked, tilting your head, and wondering why your twin had never said anything about sex.

"I'm sure he does, sweetheart. Caught him with one of Dean's not-so-private skin mags," John chuckled and you scrunched your nose. 

"What's a skin mag?" You asked him and he continued to chuckle at your question. 

"It's pictures of sex. We call it porn," John answered and you frowned, still not knowing what the hell he was talking about. 

"Daddy, I don't know what that is," You reminded him and instead of the instant explanation you wanted, he looked over smiling and shaking his head. 

"God, I wish you could stay little forever," He sighed and you continued to frown, wishing that you knew why this conversation was occurring or why it was so important for you to know about. "When you and Sammy shower together, does he ever touch you?" He asked and his face shifted to concern.

"Yeah, he helps me wash my hair sometimes, but mostly he just uses all of the hot water," You huffed out, crossing your arms, and John shook his head. 

"I meant, does he put his hands on your body?" He reiterated and you shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what he was gaining with these questions. 

"Sometimes he helps me wash my back," You answered and John nodded his head. 

"Do you ever wonder why you have different body parts than him?" He asked and you slumped your face, of course, you wondered why, but you knew that it was just because you were of different sexes. 

"I guess, but Sammy says it's just because I'm a girl and he's a boy," You told him all the information you knew and he nodded his head. 

"So, you know that boys can't get pregnant right?" He asked and you nodded your head. "And you know that boys don't get periods?" He asked again. 

"Yeah, because Sam doesn't get them and neither does Dean. Only I do," You crossed your arms, thinking about how unfair it was that they didn't bleed once a month.

"Okay, well at least you know the basics," John sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips. 

"Is this the part where you tell me what and why we're talking about this? You said you didn't want to talk about when I get my periods," You turned your head to look for his reaction, and he just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

"I don't. It's just- It's just important if we're going to talk about sex," He muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't know what that is," You reiterated, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

"I, uh, I never had this conversation with your brothers. They kinda figured it out on their own," He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't holding on tightly to the steering wheel. 

It wasn't even worth responding to, so you decided to stay silent until he said something else. You could tell that he was feeling awkward, but you weren't- you were just impatiently waiting. 

John looked over and gave you a small smile to which you just raised your eyebrow, then his face straightened and he knew you were waiting for something more. 

"You know what, sweetheart? I think it just be better if I showed you."

��••

He dragged himself in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. His eyes were locked into hers as his forehead began to form sweat beads, panting like he was running a marathon. 

Their lips connected and their tongues ran against each other as he continued to move above her. When he pulled his lips back, she had her mouth parted slightly, close to tears falling out as she cried out profanities. 

But she wasn't actually upset and he wasn't actually hurting her, they were enjoying it- John made sure you knew that.

You stared at Sam's computer in awe, they were so in love with one another- so happy to be together like this. You didn't understand what was so awkward about it, you were confused as to why you had never seen anything like this before- confused as to why you had never done it. 

They both looked so pretty like this, so close together and in complete and utter bliss. She was gorgeous, her breasts were perfectly symmetrical- almost like she was handcrafted. Her lips were stained with red and her body was glistening in the bright lighting that infected the room. 

He had the perfect body too, big strong arms that held onto her like she was a breath of fresh air. His chest was chiseled flawlessly and he reminded you of John and your brothers, they were all just as handsome as he was. 

"Remember: You only do this with people you love," John reminded from behind you, watching you closely as you reluctantly peeled your eyes away. 

"I can do this with Sam?" You asked as your eyes reached his. 

John frowned at your question and you grew impatient as your excitement only grew.

"I love him. How come we don't have sex?" You questioned again and John's face fell into the palm of his hand, his fingertips rubbing harshly against his temples.

"Sweetheart, you don't do that kind of stuff with your brothers," John answered with a sigh, picking his head up to look back at your confused stare. 

"Oh, right. That's her Daddy. I almost forgot." You said and his eyes widened.

"I think you've had enough for today," John cleared his throat and his hand reached over you to stop the video playing in the background, but your hand reached his first. 

"Daddy, don't turn it off. I like it," You told him with a small smile, his wide eyes staring at you as you watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. 

John nodded his head slowly, bringing his hand back to rest at his side, and you turned your head to watch the screen again. 

You stared intently as you began to focus on all of the sex happening right in front of your eyes. She sounded so pretty every time he shoved himself fully inside of her. He was grunting and telling her how much of a slut she was and at first it confused you- it was a bad word and Dean used it negatively when he didn't like someone. So why did she seem so happy to hear the mean name? 

After watching the first few minutes, you discovered she actually liked being called slut. She kept saying yes yes yes, and it only made him go faster, which in return made her cries louder. Her begging was like music to your ears, and for a second you began to imagine yourself in her position. 

What if someone made you feel that good? What if they made you so happy that you were screaming in pleasure? 

Thinking about being her brought out a feeling that you had never felt before. First it gave you the chills and you had goosebumps prickling on your skin. Then you started to feel it in your stomach- almost like period cramps, but in a good way. 

After that, having pants on almost seemed uncomfortable, especially after feeling a new type of wetness in your panties. You watched as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, so passionate and raw, and it made you jealous. 

"Why don't you kiss me like that?" You snapped your head around to look at John. 

His face became flushed and it took a few seconds for him to respond back- which were mostly incoherent mumbles. 

"Don't you love me, Daddy?" You asked and he instantaneously jerked his arm away as you absentmindedly placed a hand on it. 

"I do love you, baby, I do. I just- they're not real. I didn't mean to- uh, they're not related." John managed to muster out, obviously flustered by your comments. 

"She kept calling him Daddy," You frowned, once again thinking about how much you wanted to be in her position. 

"I know, sweetheart. It was just the first video I clicked on. I wanted to get this over with." He sighed and it hurt your heart that he didn't want to do it with you. 

What if he didn't love you enough to do those things? What if Sam or Dean didn't love you enough? 

"Don't be sad, Y/N. It's just a video." John said, picking up on the sudden mood change, and reaching over to cup your cheek. 

Usually, it would make you feel better- it's something that he always did when you were upset- but it was different this time. 

"You don't love me enough for sex," You said, pushing his hand away and looking down. 

John had put you through all of this trouble of telling you about it- even showing it to you, and now he was going to deny the pit you felt in your stomach? 

"Y/N, you didn't even know what it was thirty minutes ago. You're not ready to have sex," John said in a quiet tone and you continued to frown.

Why was he being like this? Why would he show it to you if that's not what he wanted?

"I'm ready. I want to be like her, Daddy. The video made me feel things." You told him honestly, gaining the courage to look back up at him. 

Just as your courage regained, you could tell that his was suddenly gone. He looked as pale as a ghost as he swallowed down whatever liquid was in his throat. 

"What kinds of things, princess?" John asked nervously, almost sounding like he was guilty of something. 

His eyes were locked on yours and you couldn't help but feel like you might be able to break him. A perk of being Daddy's little girl was getting whatever you wanted. 

"I don't know how to explain it," You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to explain the way your core was aching for something. 

"It's called being horny. It's natural," He chuckled nervously, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

"Do you feel it too?" You asked, seeing the way that his pants were tightening around his lower region like a tent. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," He sighed aloud, and your eyes watched as his hand pressed against the crotch of his pants.

"I want to be like her, Daddy," You confessed as your eyes began flickering up and down between his face and his legs, not sure which was a prettier sight.

The sweat and the bulge were both good indicators that he was ready to do things that were in the video, you just knew it. With a sudden whiff of confidence, your hand reached back and landed on his thigh, rubbing circles with your fingers. 

John didn't say anything. He didn't move either. You watched closely as his pants became more restrictive and it was evident that your hand on his thigh was doing something for him. Smiling at the reaction, you looked back up to him and saw an unusual darkness in his eyes. 

It came as a surprise when his hand came to meet yours and you expected him to move it away, but instead, he trailed it higher. Your fingers traced the rough denim material until they landed in between his legs. A small groan left his lips and you grinned at the sound because of how much it resonated with the guy in the video. 

After your hand sat there for a few seconds and you admired how hard he felt underneath you, he stood up without warning. You frowned, wishing that he never moved. 

Sighing aloud, John looked down at you as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand came up to rest on your cheek as his thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip. 

You held onto his hand, relishing any touch that came to your body, and just as soon as it began, it ended. He pulled his hand back and you watched as he walked towards the opposite side of the room. 

"Come here," John commanded in a low and gruff voice, sitting on the edge of the unmade motel bed. 

You weren't sure whether to be eager or concerned as you stood up from your chair and made your way to him. His arms opened up as an invitation and you straddled his hips, lazily hanging your arms on his shoulders as you began to realize how intimately close the two of you were. 

You looked down, feeling instant relief as you pushed the weight of your core on him. It wasn't much, but even through your jeans and his, you could feel how good he felt pressed against you. His fingers came to the bottom of your chin and motioned your head up so that he could look at you. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" John asked, his eyes begging for you to say yes as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"Yes, Daddy. I love you," You confirmed, breathlessly waiting for him to do something to relieve the rapidly burning coil in your stomach. 

John's lips connected with yours as soon as he got his answer and you tried your best to copy his movements. It was effortless when your mouth began to move in sync with his. Each time his tongue reached into your mouth you felt like you knew exactly what to do. 

His lips felt like soft pillows every time they ran against yours- he was so perfect, you wanted to make him happy just like the guy was in the video. You chased his mouth as it pulled away, but didn't complain when you felt the wet kisses on your neck. 

John was sure to be careful as he took his time, giving you soft and warm kisses all along the crook of your neck, occasionally stopping to nip at your ear. 

Your fingers raked their way through John's hair and you heard him groan when you shifted your hips in an effort to get more comfortable. His fingers reached down, pulling the fabric on your torso over your head. 

You felt the goosebumps on your skin in reaction to the colder air and you traveled his gaze to your breasts. John brought his hands up, cupping through your bra and marveling at the sight in front of him. You took the initiative to reach around and unclasp your simple cloth covering, letting it slide down your arms and shoulders as your nipples hardened. 

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," John said breathlessly, his eyes completely focused on the stiff peaks in front of him. 

Your cheeks swelled with his approval and you moaned when he brought his mouth to one of your breasts, tweaking the nipple with his tongue and running small circles around its entirety. Something about the way he was sucking made your core itch for attention, so your hips pressed up as close to him as possible. 

John moaned against your breast, his lips ghosting the skin on your chest and latching around the other nipple, treating it just as well as its predecessor. 

His hands trailed down the sides of your body, reaching the middle, and undoing the button on your jeans before encouraging you to stand up. As you raised, he slowly pulled your jeans down and let his fingertips touch your skin as they moved south. 

When the denim was pooled around your ankles, you held onto his shoulder for support as you kicked them off lightly. 

"Sit back down, Y/N," John told you and you followed directions. 

Straddling his hips once again, feeling much less constricted, he gripped tightly onto your sides. He shifted you slightly so that you rested completely on his thigh, instead of in between, and began to move your body back and forth. 

Small whimpers fled your mouth as you felt the friction rubbing against your aching core, it felt so unfamiliar and foreign to your body- but it felt so good. 

"Feel good, princess?" You heard John chuckle lightly, as his hands continued to move you. 

The wetness from your panties was sure to have made its way out, but you didn't care. Being like this with him like this felt so good. 

"Daddy, I want to make you feel good too," You told him, looking back into his eyes. 

John's hand reached up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, smiling at you. 

"Let Daddy make you feel good first," He answered in return and you nodded your head. 

His lips collided with yours as his grip on your hips tightened, picking you up and laying you flat on your back. He continued to kiss you passionately as he hovered above you, his hand reaching down and dipping into your soaked panties. 

You felt him smile into the kiss as his fingers easily glided through your slick and you moaned every time they would ghost against your clit. 

"You're so wet for me, baby."

"Is that a good thing?" You asked him and he chuckled at the question. 

"A very good thing," He told you and you smiled with the praise. 

Placing a quick peck on your lips, he adjusted himself so that his knees were on the ground. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your soft cotton underwear, pulling them down, and encouraged your thighs to open more. 

John brought his calloused thumb up to work small circles on your bundle of nerves and you moaned at the feeling. Everything that he did made you feel more and more relieved, you could practically feel how much he loved you. When you situated yourself on your elbows so you could see what he was doing, he looked up at you. 

"Can Daddy taste you?" He asked, licking his lips, as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"Please," You squeaked out, feeling hot and bothered and needing as much of him as you could get. 

Watching as his head disappeared in between your legs, you bit your lip as his tongue trailed once up your slit and collected as much wetness in his mouth as possible. You could hear his groaning in approval just before he began to delve into your core again. 

Not bothering to suppress your satisfaction, you moaned as his tongue flicked itself over and over on your clit, bringing out a type of burn that you'd never felt before. 

You could feel your core heat up as he relentlessly attacked you with his tongue, alternating between circling and flicking, perfectly timing when one or the other became too much or dull. He began to suck down lightly, pulling more moans out of your throat, and you felt the uneasiness in your stomach waiting to spill itself. 

Your fingers locked themselves in his short hair, gaining a grunt from him as he began to go faster with his motions. His tongue was hammering your sensitive bud at a furious pace, leaving you a moaning mess as something suddenly snapped inside of you. 

"Daddy," You whined when he didn't stop. 

Your hips buckled and your thighs tried to shut themselves as John's hands wrapped around and held you down. He kept the pace as he helped you get through whatever it was that just happened. Once he was satisfied, he came to the surface, leaving your legs shaking. 

"What was that?" You asked him, panting as you tried to stop your legs from moving on their own. He continued to hover above you.

"That was an orgasm, sweetheart," John told you before placing a tender kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself when his tongue reached into your mouth, moaning at how satisfied and happy he seemed to be. 

•••

Things were never the same after that day. John insisted on not taking your virginity until he was sure it was going to be special. He wanted the whole candle-lit dinner and the rose petals on the bed, but mostly- he wanted it not to occur in a shitty motel. 

John wanted the whole nine yards just for you and as much as you wanted that too, you didn't really care about the fine details. You wanted him as soon as you could get him and you didn't care what the circumstances were, even if that meant losing your virginity in a crappy motel where the beds creaked.

Plans were whisked away from the two of you, a hunt would come up or Sam and Dean would stick around for too long. It almost seemed impossible to find the 'right' time. 

In between, John helped you learn different things that surrounded sex. You could only assume that those acts were just as satisfying as the real thing, but it only made you crave him more. 

You were so eager to please John and he seemed to feel the same way about you, making you feel more special than Sam or Dean ever felt. Everything just made so much sense, everything seemed so perfect. 

It was hard to contain yourself around your brothers, but John wanted to keep your relationship a secret. You didn't understand why. Why wouldn't he want to show Sam and Dean how happy he made you? Was he embarrassed? Were you not good enough to boast about?

Those questions didn't matter in the middle of the night when he would steal you away to his truck. Every bliss-filled night brought a euphoric feeling that lingered for the following days... but then he would leave. Again. 

It became a routine. Things would seem so hopeful that maybe in a few days, he would be able to steal you away for the night- make it special, but those plans seemed almost hopeless as the weeks went on. 

The hunts became more frequent, especially after Sam came home from school, and John wanted both of his boys as strong as possible- so he chose to hunt by himself most of the time. 

John also became a bit hunt-hungry, losing days of sleep and trying his best to find the monster that killed your mother. It was consuming him and John only really ever seemed to be at peace when he was with you- when you helped suck out every ounce of worry from his soul. 

But a strange guilt was burning slowly in your core. Sam was the one person you trusted in your entire life. The one person you could trust with your secrets, the one person you could trust to be on time, the one person you could trust to be there for you. 

When Sam would come home from school and tell you about his day, or come back from a small day hunt with Dean, you would have nothing to say to him. 

You weren't reading like usual, you were too busy with John or learning new things from porn. You weren't supposed to tell Sam and it ate at you every day. 

It hurt to keep something so special and important away from him. You've told him everything since the moment you could talk- the only saving grace was that he was keeping things from you too. 

First, it started off with him not telling you about sex or what it was. Then, it turned into getting girlfriends that he wouldn't tell anybody about. He was hiding things from you for the first time in your life and you didn't understand why. 

Was he upset with you? Did John say anything to him? Or was he just growing apart from you? 

Showers seemed to be less fun for the past three months. Sam barely talked to you. He barely cracked a joke, he didn't even turn the water cold on purpose to make you squeal. It was just a shower now. You got in, you washed your hair, he washed his hair, you washed your body, he washed his body, and then you both got out. 

Sam wasn't the same Sam that you knew and loved, but you tried your best not to notice.

It was another day. Another boring and quiet shower. Sam hogged all of the water while you focused on trying your best to be normal. 

To be honest, you were upset. All of these months, waiting for him to say something. You were waiting for Sam to explain why he was acting so strangely, but he didn't. 

Sam closed himself off from everybody and every shower that remained silent, other than the casual 'pass the shampoo' that seared into your heart. Maybe Sam didn't love you as much as he used to. Maybe he found someone else. 

You couldn't hold it in anymore- you couldn't live without knowing what was going on in Sam's head. 

"Are you okay?" You asked Sam quietly. He just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

Sam muttered 'I'm fine' and nodded his head, turning back to finish washing his hair. You frowned, knowing that he was probably not fine, and continued to pry. 

"Sammy, please. Just talk to me." You frowned, watching the soapy water fall down his back.

"Talk to you about what?" Sam asked in return, bitterness in his voice that shocked you to your core. 

His tone definitely showed you that he was upset about something, and it hurt to know that he was bottling it in himself. You trembled when he snapped, shivers running down your spine that brought you to cross your arms, and you watched the way he glared at you when he turned around. 

It hurt especially because it was the same glare he often gave your father. It was the same hatred in his eyes and you didn't know what you did to deserve it. 

"Y/N, I'm not angry. I promise. I'm sorry for scaring you." Sam must have picked up on your hurt as his face slumped into concern, placing his hand on your arm. 

You immediately pulled away as Sam continued to look at you sympathetically. 

"I just wished you talked to me, that's all," You replied quietly.

"Yeah, well, I wished you talked to me too," Sam muttered in a voice so close to a whisper you almost couldn't hear. You decided to look back up at him. 

"That's what I'm trying to do, Sam," You told him just as softly as before, looking into his soft eyes. 

Sam gave you a small smile out of courtesy, and you could tell it was hurting him just as much as it was hurting you. 

"I just feel like you are avoiding me. Like you don't want to tell me what's going on in your life anymore." You admitted.

"What about you?" Sam scoffed and you raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, you don't talk to me about your life. Why should I?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

"I don't go to school anymore and I barely leave the motel. There's not much to say," You sighed, frowning at how his aggressive switch was flipping on and off with each comment. 

Sam didn't get upset with you often, but most of the time he was irrational and tended to say things that he didn't mean. 

"Just- just tell me about a book you've read recently," Sam struggled to get out and you shrugged your shoulders. 

"Um, okay. I read The Little Prince recently. The guy in the story crashed in the Sahara desert and-" You were quick to explain. 

"You told me about that book months ago, Y/N," Sam cut you off with hints of a low growl. You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to reach his eyes as they ran away from yours. 

You hadn't read it in a while, but, it was the most recent book you had read- that part was true. The truth about what had been preoccupying your past few months was a secret, a secret that John didn't want anybody to know about. 

For a second, you thought about telling the truth- maybe Sam would be happy to hear about it. Happy that John loved you so much. Happy that you weren't sitting at home miserable every day. 

Ultimately, you decided that you didn't want to upset your father. What if he stopped whatever it was that was going on between the two of you? That, in addition to Sam and Dean, was the only thing that ever made you truly happy around here, and you didn't want to take it for granted. 

"I, uh, I reread it. It's a great book," You lied, this time trying to look away without being too conspicuous. 

It hurt every part of you to lie to Sam like this, especially because you were lying about one of the most important things in your life.

You never lied to Sam, ever. When he didn't say anything back, it ate you completely. The guilt you felt was pounding in the back of your throat. It only took you a few moments of silence to realize that you couldn't take it anymore.

"Sammy, I'm- I'm lying to you." You told him, feeling a rush of relief flood your body as you looked down to the ground.

"I know, Y/N," Sam told you quietly and you nodded your head, the guilt vacuuming back into your body. 

This is why you shouldn't have lied to him in the first place. He knew you so well, too well to let anything slip by. 

"Do you want to tell me the truth?" He asked softly, bringing his fingertips to your chin so that you could look back up at him. 

You nodded your head, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as he looked at you with so much care- something you missed dearly from him. 

"I- I can't." You told him, jerking your head to look anywhere but at him. 

You loved Sam more than any person in the world, but this was something that you needed to keep from him.

"Because Dad said you can't?" Sam asked you and your eyes shot up to look at him, widened at full capacity. 

He knew. That's why he was so upset. That's why he didn't talk to you, why he closed himself off from everybody. But, why? Why did he seem so upset about it? If Sam knew, why hadn't he brought it up sooner?

"It's okay, Y/N, really. It's okay, you can tell me the truth." Sam told you, pulling you close as you frowned into his chest and began to let your mind run. 

What if John found out you told him? Would he not want anything to do with you anymore? Even though the shower was still running against the both of you, the only wetness you could feel were your tears. 

"He's going to hate me, Sammy," You told him, sniffling as you pulled back to look at him. His arms were lazily hung around your torso as he stared down at you with soft eyes. 

"Y/N, did he hurt you?" Sam asked softly, gripping your waist tightly and gently forcing you to keep focused on him. 

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows as you noticed that Sam seemed to look sad. "No- no, he didn't hurt me. Why would he hurt me?" You questioned again and his grip loosened around you, looking just as confused as you did. "Are you upset?"

Sam took a few seconds to answer, head shaking a confused expression formed on his face. 

"I, uh, no- I'm not upset. I just thought-" He trailed, seeming to be at a loss for words. "I just thought he was hurting you."

"Daddy would never hurt me," You gave him a small grin, shaking your head at the silly comment. "Sammy, he's made me very happy." You purred, feeling his body tense as your fingers glided up and down his sides. 

It was a small chance that you took- if he wasn't upset... then maybe he was happy. Maybe he was just jealous this entire time.

•••

Next Part

[andre-and-cal]

waiter give me caldre headcanons

Sigh I read Walter instead of waiter…

But bone apple teeth and eat up pookstah !! I hope that I did okay with these ones ‘cause I’m not trans but wanted these to feel realistic for my trans pookies,, so I did my best :3

I didn’t get to proofread that much so I’m sawry if there r mistakes…. 😿🙏

Caldre Headcanons

SFW

Transmasc Calvin !! Despite Andre’s curiosity toward him, he still accepts him for who he is, no matter his identity. It took Andre a little to get adjusted to referring to Cal as a male, and he did seem a little judgmental at first with the wording of his questions. Sometimes Andre can come off kinda rude when he doesn’t mean to. However, he wasn’t being judgmental, as he was trying to learn more so that Cal felt comfortable with him. And once Andre got the hang of it, he quickly realized that he doesn’t care about who Cal is— to elaborate, he doesn’t care about how Cal identifies, he cares about his presence. Not anyone else’s presence, just the Calvin Gabriel he met and quickly grew close to in middle school. After all, he feels like Cal is all he has left in the world, so the last thing he really cares about is Cal’s gender or orientation. Though, Cal struggles with dysphoria and a bit of discrimination— especially with it being the years 2000-2001. Kids were still a lot meaner and less accepting of queer people, so he faces issues with some bullying. Many of his peers shun him for being transgender, so as a result, Cal’s already quite low self-esteem plummeted. At times, he doesn’t really feel comfortable in his body. He feels like he just wants to crawl his way out of his skin in order to rid himself of the bothersome ruminating thoughts he deals with. But he tries to ignore the negativity and brush it off until it all bottles up— for which he seeks out that reassurance from Andre, wanting to be sure that the feminine features present on his body are okay. Which, they are, of course, and Andre tries to encourage him of this fact, even if briefly. Now, Cal isn’t as open about his dysphoria with Rachel, but he does talk about it with her sometimes.

Andre seems stern and stoic around other people, but he’s a lot different when it comes to Cal. With the promises they’d made to each other in the past, Andre’s constantly surveying Cal, especially when Brad or other dudes at school are being a dick to them both— but Andre often takes little to no notice of himself at times, frequently exhibiting intense defensiveness toward their bullies when they bother them because he just wants to make sure Cal is okay. His demeanor does impact how other people see him, with many of his peers seeing him as “having a short fuse” or “strange”. Andre knows Cal can very well handle himself. He’s not a baby, after all— he’s practically an adult now, and Andre tries to tell himself that, yet he can’t help but worry about him, even when he doesn’t need to worry. There’s just that little voice in the back of his head that prompts him to get a little bossy around Cal sometimes. Brad Huff calls Andre “Cal’s abusive boyfriend” in an insulting manner when Andre sticks up for him, which embarrasses and enrages him. Everybody thinks him and Cal aren’t dating, even though they are. Cal will kinda stay quiet, maybe mutter something sharp-tongued in response, but he doesn’t want to get Andre’s ass beaten. Andre’s own anxiety for Calvin causes Andre to kind of project onto him with irritability and frustration, even though he doesn’t truly mean it— he just wants to know Calvin is safe, that’s all. But he doesn’t know how to express that care healthily at times because he struggles with communicating his feelings.

Cal helps Andre with his homework sometimes, and Andre does the same. Andre tends to get annoyed when Cal doesn’t understand something after he explained it multiple times, or when he gets distracted and loses focus frequently due to his ADHD. Telling him to “get his head out of his ass”. He also organizes his folders and throws out loose papers for him since Cal is definitely an unorganized guy. But Andre doesn’t realize how much help he is for Cal, ‘cause he tends to do well on his quiz, test, or exam within a few weeks, even though Andre has to organize his shit for him once every few weeks. Now, Calvin’s approach when he helps Andre with his homework is a little different, but just as effective. He explains things for a while ‘cause he kind of gets into the whole “teaching” thing, and Andre tends to get bored, but still somehow taking in some of the information. But this is mainly because Cal helps Andre chunk his notes. Cal initially suggested that Andre be a tutor, but Andre brushed off his suggestion, not wanting to have to work with younger kids or potentially his peers at school. But since Andre already has his job at the pizza parlor, Cal decided to become a tutor instead. He makes some good money with it, but gets a little impatient with his tutees, like how he does with Andre.

Andre lightly baby talks Mel. Cal makes fun of him for it, sarcastically saying it’s not very “soldierly” of him to express his fondness toward his cat, as if he doesn’t do the same to Mel. Cal knows he’s a hypocrite but doesn’t dare admit it, he’ll just silently sink down to the floor beside Mel to play with her and give her attention. Andre has no shame in showing Mel love and attention, because he’s seen Cal get all wrapped up in cat heaven when Mel lays on him and makes biscuits on his lap. Even before Cal and Andre started dating, Andre casually referred to Cal as Mel’s “daddy” sometimes, and then himself as “papa”. Andre’s crush was well-hidden, but not covered up completely. He still does this, but now the confirmation that Cal is Mel’s second “father” remains unspoken yet understood by both boys, so Andre constantly calls him and Cal her “dads”.

In their gym class, some boys intentionally target Andre and Cal— especially if they’re playing an outdoor activity. When playing soccer, they’ll kick soccer balls toward the two of them— Cal has good reflexes, so he can usually can dodge the ball when he sees it coming— but Andre will get hit in the face and fall on his ass. He feels embarrassed and enraged when it happens, and one time he even got a bloody nose— so Cal took him to the clinic and cleaned it up for him, though he effectively hid his internal rage toward the boys for doing that. However, Cal usually gets hit in the chest when they’re playing football or basketball, and it knocks the wind out of his lungs. Andre doesn’t really say anything, knowing that doing so will just get him further taunted or pushed around, so he just shuts his mouth and helps Cal up— even though he’s seething inside.

Andre gets cold at night, while Cal gets hot. Andre gets real whiny when he’s half-asleep and when Cal pulls away from him at night, since Cal is kind of like a little heater for him while he sleeps. But Calvin gets sweaty, and pulling the sheets off is uncomfortable for him, so he tries to untangle himself from Andre— though Andre subconsciously tightens his arms around Cal to pull him a little closer to his chest. In the morning, Cal’s drenched in sweat, with his blond locks sticking to his face, so he has to blow his fan right on himself. He doesn’t really get all that hot during the cold winter months of the year 2000.

Cal likes to cuddle. Andre does, too, but he pretends it doesn’t really bother him that much. Cal likes to lie on Andre’s chest while Andre holds him. Other times, when Andre is spooning him, but they both wake up in the most uncomfortable positions, so they have to rub each other’s necks and backs after LMAO.

Sometimes Andre says “C’mere” before he kisses Cal. He also lets out small, content sighs when they’re in bed together or cuddling on the couch. Cal likes hearing Andre’s grunts and noises. It kind of gives him cuteness aggression, so he has to squish his cheeks.

Despite the good moments they do have together, though, they’re both extremely unstable, demented teenage boys. They argue a lot, and their fights get real heated, sometimes leading to physical altercations between them. Neither Andre nor Cal see domestic violence as a bad thing. Andre sees it as a way to get his anger out, and Cal sees it as a way to “teach Andre a lesson”. They bicker and grow hostile toward one another when they’re alone together, and their more worse arguments tend to be about upcoming Zero Day, among various other stupid shit. Andre and Cal get angry easily, and hold equal amounts of rage toward their peers at Iroquois, but it comes out differently for both of them. Yet even though they think they’re alone when they set each other off and become aggressive, Mel— Andre’s cat— is often sitting off to the side, like on Andre’s windowsill, watching the two. She doesn’t really understand what’s going on, with her being a small animal and all, but she does sense negative energy.

Adding on previously, Cal is a gaslighter. Whenever Andre tries to be civil with him and tell him about the things he does that piss him off, Cal doesn’t want to admit when he’s wrong. He asks Andre things like, “When?” Or “I didn’t do that,”. Sometimes it honestly makes Andre question himself, even when he knows he’s right deep down.

NSFW

Handling guns are awfully romantic. Sometimes Calvin and Andre will fuck in Andre’s car, after going out and shooting guns in the woods— excluding Chris, obviously. Chris is the one who has the guns, so Andre uses his dad’s guns when Chris isn’t available for Andre and Calvin to use his guns. When it’s just him and Cal, Andre likes to find a way to show his appreciation for Cal— since he doesn’t really say it that much, besides on Zero Day during their little intimate exchange, of course. But uhHh, sometimes Andre gets a sick sense of arousal when he sees Cal shoot. The way his hands clench around the grip, the way his eyebrows are knitted together in concentration— Cal isn’t normally one to wear tank tops, especially when he’s experiencing symptoms of his dysphoria, but he knows Andre won’t judge him, so he wears tanks when it’s them alone, since it does show off a little bit of his body. He wears these kinds of shirts most notably when they’re out in the woods shooting guns. Andre doesn’t have any shame in subtly checking Cal out, but he gets embarrassed and defensive when he catches him doing so. Moving forward with my point, all of this combined kind of— no, really turns Andre on. Andre doesn’t prefer having sex out in the woods, with the excuse that “the birds are watching them”; he prefers the privacy of his car. Cal really enjoys riding Andre, ‘cause he can feel the head of Andre’s cock grinding up against his folds, and then Andre can feel how wet he is for him.

Andre is a sucker for Cal’s little clit. He calls it a “button” because that was the first thing he thought of when he first saw Cal’s vagina. Cal found it cute, ‘cause he’d never really seen it that way— and it made him feel a little better about himself, therefore Andre continued calling Cal’s clit a “button”. Andre likes to lap at Cal’s pussy and suck on his button— he loves the taste of him, and plus, it essentially serves as a lubricant, which helps Andre when he gets to have his “alone time” with Cal. When Andre first started eating Calvin out, he was a bit sloppy and clumsy with his technique— after all, he’d never dated anyone before, so he was just as inexperienced as Cal was. They both learned along the way, and eventually Andre was able to get Cal to scream his name— after all, one of Cal’s favorite things is the feeling of Andre’s mouth on his pussy.

Cal essentially taught Andre how to eat pussy; Andre essentially taught Cal how to suck dick. Calvin helped Andre find his sweetest spots whenever he went down on him, and once he found those areas by tonguing his cunt alone, Cal cried out in pleasure. Now, with Andre, he helped guide Cal’s mouth down onto his member— the first time Cal blew Andre, of course. The mere sensation alone nearly made Andre spill his seed into Cal’s mouth, and Cal couldn’t even take him that deep down his throat yet. But after more practice— Cal thinks this is embarrassing, and he never wanted to admit it to Andre, but he tried to “reduce” his gag reflex by sticking popsicles and bananas down his throat when he was alone— he was able to take Andre nearly to his tonsils.

Andre likes to squish and knead Cal’s breasts when he isn’t wearing bandages around his chest. Cal frequently wraps bandages around his chest to conceal and flatten his breasts. He never told anyone besides Andre and Rachel, but even with Rachel he was hesitant, anxious about her reaction— yet when she responded in an accepting, caring manner, he felt better. Anyhow, Cal takes them off when he’s alone or when him and Andre are about to get intimate together. When Andre gets to see Cal’s breasts, he’s like a mutt in heat. His hormones affect him a lot, and seeing Cal’s body is kind of like eye candy. He doesn’t really show it much, but he truly admires Calvin’s body, and sometimes when Cal’s changing, he’ll let Andre touch his breasts, even though he was initially repulsed at the idea. Not at Andre, but to his own body. Andre didn’t see his fears as that big of a deal, admittedly he’d never really known why Cal was so self-conscious. But he’d seen Cal’s body in Cal’s own eyes; he doesn’t understand his dysphoria all that well. Nonetheless, Cal is now more open to the idea of Andre touching his chest, because he likes how it makes him feel. He likes how Andre makes him feel, and it honestly makes him wet when he feels his rough thumb pads gently rubbing his nipples, hands squeezing and rubbing his mounds. Andre had heard that breasts were sensitive, so he tried to be as gentle as possible. Cal’s nipples are quite erogenous and stimulating.

When Cal sits on Andre’s lap, it’s kind of a 50/50 chance of Andre getting hard LMAO. The first time this happened— Cal was trying to watch Andre play DOOM on his computer, and so he went and sat down on his lap, but accidentally sat down right on Andre’s dick. Andre tried to ignore the feeling of Cal’s ass against his growing bulge, but eventually Calvin found out. He didn’t know what to do at first, but since Andre wasn’t mentioning his… predicament, Cal decided to test it out by intentionally shifting around on his lap. And Andre’s erection only grew more painful, so he subtly placed his hand on Cal’s inner thigh and squeezed, trying to tell him to stop without actually saying anything. Unfortunately, though, Cal didn’t fucking listen. So Andre had mumbled in his ear, “Fucking stop that, you spiteful bastard,”. That made Cal stop for a moment, but then he’d replied, “Control yourself, then,” but his words held no malice— and he had a shit-eating grin on his face; he knew what he was doing. This really pushed Andre’s buttons, so he hissed out in his ear, “It’s not my fault you sat on it!” Which— essentially is true, but Cal still ended up responding with, “Aim your game, man,”. And then, right after Andre retorted, “I’ll aim it into you,” things got pretty heated between them. Andre wanted to touch Cal so fucking badly. He wanted those pink lips wrapped around his shaft. He wanted to hear Cal whimper. He wanted to hear him cry. He wanted to hear him suffocate. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, at least not this intensely— and his parents had always told him in the past that he’d find the right person for him. Which, he did, back in the sixth grade when he’d met Calvin. Before Andre started liking Cal, he was convinced he’d never find anyone and that he’d fuck everything up even if he tried. But he didn’t. Not this time. Going back to my point, though, Andre had stuck his hand down Cal’s pants, roughly rubbing him through his panties ‘till he got all wet for him— though, Andre wasn’t really all that great with masturbating Cal for him, either. So he was kind of fumbling until he was able to shove his hand inside his panties and start rubbing his slick folds… pinching his little clit between his fingers, too. With his free hand, he let go of his mouse and moved it up, slapping his palm over Cal’s mouth while grinding up into his ass. Their pleasured pants and grunts combined delightfully, and Andre leaned down to whimper against Cal’s ear. With all of that alone, Andre was able to get himself off even by dry humping Cal— and Cal, of course, came all over his fingers.

Andre likes to squeeze Cal’s ass when he’s facing away from him. Not necessarily in a playful way, or even in a suggestive manner, but instead as a silent way to show his appreciation for him. Like mentioned previously, Andre isn’t good with words, and he doesn’t like to be all sappy and shit like a normal guy would be— and Cal knows that. He isn’t really sappy either, but he is a bit more affectionate than Andre generally is. It kind of startles Cal when Andre caresses his ass cheek, but he doesn’t complain. He likes having Andre’s hands all over him.

Cal enjoys getting kissed on the neck. Not due to sexual stimulation, but because of how warm and giddy it makes him feel inside— mainly because Andre isn’t overly affectionate, especially not in public. It makes him feel genuinely happy— which is kind of a rare thing for him— when Andre gives him little neck and jaw kisses, or when he feels Andre snake his arms around him. Cal does like to spoon Andre as well, though, but he doesn’t return the neck kisses because he knows Andre does get quite aroused due to some areas on his neck. When Cal wants to have a rather nice, tender moment with Andre, he doesn’t kiss or suck at his neck. Instead, he nuzzles him. During sex, though, he likes to bite Andre and litter his neck in kisses and hickeys.

Andre never knew how much he liked to see Cal bloody until he walked in on him cutting himself. One night, at Calvin’s house, him and Andre were arguing, so Cal stormed off in what Andre could assume was an act out of pettiness or spite, so Andre just lingered in Cal’s room instead of going after him. He kind of snooped around and messed with his stuff out of curiosity until he heard some faint cries coming from down the hall. Which, Andre followed the noises and saw that the bathroom door was shut, and he saw the light on. Without knocking, he barged into the bathroom and saw that Cal had been cutting himself and reopening small, past scars. Andre wanted to feel horrible— well, believe me, he did, but in a different way. He got hard at the sight of Cal’s bloodied forearms and upper arms, and he felt extremely guilty as a result. He wanted to feel sick, to genuinely comfort him in the best way he could… the only way he knew how to. But he couldn’t, he liked it. But he forced himself to ignore his erection, no matter how distracting it was, and he ended up just helping him patch up his arms, scolding him for his actions.

But eventually, out of the blue, Cal asked if Andre could cut him. Andre didn’t want to, initially, for the shame practically ate him up at the idea. However, eventually, he gave in— and after he’d chopped up the skin on Cal’s arms, he scooped up some of his thin blood on his fingertips and shoved it into Cal’s mouth, forcing him to taste himself. The other hand went to his cock, and he palmed himself as he watched Cal suck on his fingers. Afterward, he’d stuck his hand down into Cal’s jeans, and he penetrated his pussy with his bloodstained fingertips. Then, Cal— with his hands rather bloody, undid Andre’s pants and jerked him off for him, then wrapped his lips around his cock, so that when Andre came, his lips had traces of both his own blood, and also Andre’s cum.

[baratiddyappreciator]

good afternoon/evening/night, I don’t know when you will read this :) I would like to make a request from you, it’s a bit late topic, I agree. But could you write about how the antagonists of season 3 (Spec, Dorian, Sikorsky, Doyle and Yanagi) will react to the fact that a shy reader gave them a valentine and chocolate (made by the reader himself), and ran away very embarrassed? I would be very grateful if you write this. Best wishes to you ! :)

Of course I can! Once again, very sorry for how long it took me to get to these lmao, I can say that I'm officially off hiatus but progress will be slow until I catch up.

Doyle:

He's so confused. What on earth are you doing?? Why did you just shove this box of random shit and some flowers into his hands and then run off like he had the bubonic plague?? Why are you so red??? What on earth is going on?? More importantly, why the actual fuck did you say 'Kyaaa~!' as you were leaving?? Are you cringe? Does he need to worry about you being cringe?

Give him a second, the man is a bit stunted when it comes to being around normal people. Been in the assassin game too long. When he opens to box to see some chocolates and reads the note with the valentine, then he'll put two and two together. Eventually. He may or may not have to look it up first before he puts two and two together.

Expect a sudden appearance at your house. A creepy one. Bro rocks up outside your window in the middle of the night like "hey hi hello do you have feelings for me??" and once you confirm he's going to tease you about it to the point where it's almost him just straight up being mean, but it's all he knows how to do. You might cry though, just a warning.

After all that? He barely acknowledges that you confessed to him. You can bring it up, and he'll just shrug and give you a "Yeah? What about it?" because he read that being aloof and uninterested can actually make him seem a bit more interesting to you. You're going to have to be direct with him, because otherwise he just won't understand what you want.

Sikorsky:

Run away all you want, you literally will not be able to outrun him. His legs are long and he's got the endurance. The man is scary, and he will get you to look him dead in the eyes and tell him with your words, because shoving a box and some flowers into his hands and then running away is rude and childish, and you're both grown adults.

He doesn't need a second, he's not dumb, he's had people confess to him before. He's pretty and he knows it, which makes his ego about 10x worse. He knows the moment he gets handed the box of chocolates and the roses. As mentioned, he'll hunt you down and make you use your words.

"Go on, say that you love me, I wanna hear you say it!" He's so mean about it, but he knows when to stop pushing. As soon as you admit that you like him, he'll tease you a little, feed his own ego a bit, and then be perfectly happy to move on to whatever happens next.

Oh he'll bring it up just to fluster you. He's a bit sadistic, so that is... Well, fairly frequently. Eventually you'll stop being as flustered about it, but still, he'll find a way to turn your confession into something he can use to tease and poke fun. Eventually though, it becomes something he looks back on fondly, and is so, so happy that you both remember it so well.

Yanagi:

A valentine? How childish. He's a grown man, he doesn't need this! You can run away if you want, he won't chase you. He knows you'll be back, and when you do come back, he's going to make you say what you feel properly, because otherwise, he's not likely to give you the time of day. Shy or no, simply running away is shameful and cowardly in his eyes.

He knows, he grew up with that culture, there's no need to tell him, though he outright refuses to touch the chocolates until you've come to him properly and talked to him instead of just running away all flustered. You're going to lose points for that approach in his eyes.

His judgmental and stuck-up ass is constantly going to demean you for just running away from him. He faced down Yujiro Hanma of all people, and he didn't run away! You've got no excuse, because clearly he's not nearly that terrifying! (He is, the little freak)

After the initial shaming and subsequent "Now do it again, but properly!" then that's pretty much it. Something he'll try to push out of his mind, which is a small mercy on his end because otherwise the relationship simply wouldn't happen purely because of that.

Dorian:

Awe, well isn't that adorable! And you put so much effort into this too! So flustered you couldn't even look him in the eyes before you took off! But you're forgetting that he's incredibly fast, even in his advanced age, so he absolutely simply let you go. If he'd wanted to catch you, he would.

Oh he's aware of what this means! And he's not above returning the favor either! As long as you don't ask too many questions about where he gets your gifts from, it's smooth sailing! He'd appreciate it if you questioned him simply being in your home one night even less, especially with how happy you'd clearly be with him returning your feelings!

Oh he's going to savor those chocolates! You worked so hard on them, and he's always had a bit of a sweet-tooth! As for the flowers, he's going to dry and preserve them, maybe even have them turned into a fragrance that he can wear on date night.

After all that, you really expect to stay single? Oh no, he's putting a claim on that as soon as physically possible, he just needs to make sure that you won't questions the suspicious things that happen around him. Like, you know, your neighbors all of the sudden not looking you in the eyes, your boss giving you less of a hard time. It's just because you're so happy, and not because he threatened them, it's definitely because you're so radiant!

Spec:

He's highly amused and he's going to do nothing to hide that fact. You're trying to run away? Oh, honey, he's already outpaced you and is ready to snatch you up and drag you off to go eat the chocolates you worked so hard on!

He's aware and he thinks it's both the most adorable and hilarious thing in existence. Did you really think he'd just let you run off on him? Oh no, nono, you're gonna stay here and say that you love him to his face and not through some letter, though he's still going to keep it. If he ever goes back to jail, he's going to hang it on the wall or the ceiling near his bed so it can be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

He's going to tease you about it until you're so red you envy a stop-sign. And then he'll tease you a bit more, just for good measure. It's really hard to tell if he's just teasing you or if he's being genuine though, since his sense of humor is so skewed.

After all that? He lives in your house. You confessed, you gave him food and flowers. He's like a fucked up stray cat that has taken the small display of kindness as an invitation to just live in your home for however long he pleases. You're going to have a really hard time getting rid of him.

[transgaypiratesanta]

I LOVE Maud Blyth. I could make hundreds of posts about Maud, and I could give hundreds of compliments to her character, but one thing I noticed and have loved about her from the moment I read it was her relationship to sex, and her own sexuality.

it would have been so easy to turn her into an innocent, clueless character, who could blush at every suggestive comment and be corrupted by Violet, but she [Maud] didn’t! And I love that!

First of all, while she was undeniably unexperienced, she was still educated, and shown to know what she wanted.

She knew what pleasure was, and that she desired it (as evidenced by her saying that she had tried and failed to pleasure herself) and even knew more specific wants, thanks to The Suitcase.

she knew when she did not want something, and she did not allow for herself to be walked over, or for her boundaries to be disregarded. And Violet listened!

it is so easy in writing to always have characters automatically know what the other wants, and for them to do whatever they deem a good idea without consulting the other, and without consequences. It is so wonderful to see that the question of what Maud and Violet want, what makes them uncomfortable, etc, is explored, because it feels so important in the context and when applied to the arc of Maud’s character.

Violet accidentally tickles Maud, and after being told not to, she listens. Maud goes too slowly when pleasuring Violet because she [Maud] does not want to overwhelm her [Violet], and after being told to move faster, she does! Maud often behaves in a socially unacceptable or awkward way (I cringed quite a bit while reading, I do admit) but she still does it, because she is new to these things, and she does not yet know what is allowed (also, that’s just how she is. And I love her for it)

none of these moments had to be present, and Marske could easily have omitted them, but they were instead present in the book, and I love it!!!! These moments of awkwardness or accidental causing of discomfort (and the ensuing communication and amendment of the mistake) both highlight Maud’s inexperience, give her an opportunity to have autonomy, and simply show the reality of relationships, that being that you can’t know what your partner wants 100% of the time.

I am so thankful that these small slip-ups were shown, because I so rarely see things like that shown in media.

(all of the books are great at this, by the way. It is especially clear in A Power Unbound, but A Marvellous Light demonstrates it as well, especially when Edwin becomes more comfortable with Robin)

additionally, while she was tentative to curse, she was never ashamed of herself and her desires, and never hid what she wanted, or became embarrassed when speaking of it.

even though Violet was more knowledgeable, she never pushed her own wants onto Maud, nor did she ignore Maud’s requests, or treat her as silly and uneducated when it came to her own body (or anything, really.) Maud was always treated as the adult she is, both by the characters, and by the book itself.

of course, it would still be possible to have a compelling female character who had opposite experiences, but I just love Maud. She is proud, she knows what she does and doesn’t want, and I LOVE her!!!!

this is very rambly, isn’t it.

[pinkbewwy-milk]

based on starsandskies' prompt list.

Day 7: Risky Places ft. William Afton.

warnings: incest, dub-con, implied underage fantasies, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, hardcore ig, william afton. DEAD DOVE.

Every other Sunday, the Aftons and the Emilys had a family get-together. Evan and Elizabeth would play with Charlie, while Michael would pretend to be sick and lock himself in his room. Sometimes William would have him come down and hang out, just to annoy him, but more often he preferred not to have him there. He and Clara would spend the afternoon chatting and drinking with the other couple, making plans for the future, and other adult things. You, the Aftons' second daughter, were usually the one who kept the kids from getting hurt or breaking anything. You were old enough to take care of it, and you did it without any problems. After all, you were very shy, and even though you had known the Emilys for years, you were embarrassed to be around them.

That Sunday, however, you were sick. You had a cold, nothing too serious, but going down to hang out would be irresponsible because you could infect anyone. So instead you spent the whole day lying in bed, sometimes reading and sometimes sleeping. You listened to the laughter and fun everyone was having down there, almost feeling jealous. You tried not to get too bitter, since the flu had appeared suddenly and there was no time to move the meeting to the next weekend —Even so, you missed seeing Evan smile and seeing mum and dad happy and relaxed.

Around eleven at night, you slipped out of your room into the bathroom. You wanted to look a little presentable to at least say goodbye to Henry and his wife from the stairs. The children must have been asleep already, surely tired after such an intense day of games. By then the adults were already a little tipsy too, which meant that William wouldn't chase you to your room as soon as he saw you poke your nose out.

You just wanted to say goodbye.

In the bathroom, you opened the medicine cabinet to take out a brush and at least fix your hair a little. You also took the opportunity to search for some foundation or makeup that could hide your dark circles. You knew it wouldn't happen, but you were too embarrassed to think that one of the adults would make fun of your poor appearance.

When you closed the medicine cabinet, your reflection in the mirror was accompanied by another. You jumped and turned around, dropping both the brush and the makeup.

“Dad!”, you exclaimed, still frightened by William's sudden appearance. You hadn't heard the door open, or close, or the lock being put on. You raised both eyebrows, ready to beg him not to scold you, but the man didn't even give you time for that.

In the blink of an eye, without really knowing how it had happened, your father's lips captured yours. You opened your mouth in a gasp, surprised, and William was quick to stick his tongue inside. You tried to push your father away, but William was much stronger and taller than you. The man pushed you back, until your lower back hit the sink. You groaned, the contact causing a little pain. That made William leave your mouth alone. Instead, he put his hand over it, the other around your slender neck.

It wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. He'd kissed you before, just never with tongue, and never with such desperation.

You understood why he was like this. You weren't a child, and when William pushed his hips against you, you felt the source of his desperation perfectly. Something, you didn't know if it was horror or excitement, filled your belly. In any case, your body felt tense.

“I can't wait any longer, Prue”, William said, and it was clear from his breath that he'd had too much to drink. Your eyes widened, shaking your head, and you mumbled something from behind your father's palm. He took his hand away, but squeezed your neck: A reminder.

“Mum and the Emilys are downstairs…”, you whispered. You didn't know why you didn't scream; even if William did something to you, it's not like the other three adults (and Michael, who was upstairs with you) couldn't get him off of you. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that your father had never hurt you; perhaps it was the moisture that was beginning to build between your thighs the more William pushed against you.

“That’s why you have to be quiet”, he replied, his free hand moving down your body. He slid his hand under the pyjama pants, and shamelessly began to caress his own daughter’s pussy over your panties. You gasped, but no sound came out. William smiled. “That’s it. It’s not that hard, is it? I knew you’d be good to me… You always have been”.

You blushed, almost involuntarily spreading your legs a little. William pushed the panties aside, coming into contact with your intimacy. He growled at the speed with which you wet yourself already, his cock throbbing inside his pants. He caressed you a little more before letting you go. You almost begged him to continue, for the stimulation had already clouded your judgment and you knew that if you didn’t have him again you would run away. That was something you didn’t want to do, for you were tired of fighting your primitive instincts.

You hated them. You hated that you liked your own father so much, and you hated that he reciprocated your desires.

God, it would all be so easy if only he weren't as sick as you were.

William pulled your pants and panties down to your knees. You felt the cold air against your pussy, a shiver running through your body. It soon went away, as in a flash your father's cock was pressed between your thighs, almost maddeningly brushing against your clit. You had seen it before, even touched it, but you had never gone this far. You were excited but also terribly scared.

Without much further delay, your father pushed your legs open, and a second later he balls deep in you, hips pressed against your pelvis. He shoved his fingers into your mouth at the same time, thus preventing the scream that ultimately tried to escape your mouth. You felt a horrible burning inside you, like magma being poured from within you. You didn't know if it was your own juices, at best, or your own blood, at worst. It was your first time, after all, and William had definitely not been careful.

You tried to understand. You tried to think that he was just too eager for you, to have you. You couldn't blame him. That's how men were.

William didn't even stop to ask how you were, instead moving and imposing a steady, firm pace. You were very sensitive, feeling the way your father moved in and out of you, inch by inch. It was horrible, it was painful, and yet…

Perhaps it was your arousal, or perhaps it was an effort to help you get through the moment, but pleasure began to blossom within the pain. The way your body expanded and contracted around his cock was detestable, disgusting —Which was why you liked it so much. You felt a tickling sensation that was increasing more and more, the same one that made you start to moan. You still had William's fingers in your mouth, and perhaps in a primitive impulse, your tongue stretched out to lick and suck the digits.

In front of you, William moaned.

“Christ, if I had known you would like it so much”, a short pause, just enough to accommodate himself better, and setting a punishing rhythm against your cunt, “I would’ve done this to you years ago. You're soaked, darling —Fuck, you feel so good”.

You couldn't even answer. Of course you heard what the man said, and of course it was worrying; but you didn't care. Not when everything was so wonderful, when your body and mind could only ask for more and more, your mouth following the command. William laughed evilly, going even faster and louder. He couldn't take too long, because at any moment Clara would go look for him, or check on her daughter. He wanted to be with her as long as possible, obviously, but he would have other opportunities.

For now, he just wanted to finish. He was sick of the fucking hard-on he had all day. He was sick of having to hold back for so long.

His long fingers stretched out between you, ring and middle fingers pressing your clit and twisting with speed. The other hand, the one inside your mouth, went back around his daughter's neck and squeezed. Not enough to leave marks, but enough to cut off your breathing and all your noises. You rolled your eyes, legs around the man, hips moving rhythmically against him. William smiled.

“That's it, good girl”, he growled, mouth open, saliva leaking between his lips like he was an animal. Your pussy was tightening in the most delicious and pleasurable way. He could get used to this. He could do this for the rest of his days. “Like that, yeah, cum on your daddy’s cock”.

You had never had an orgasm, and the sensation scared you so much that you tried to resist. You couldn't even then, your father was too experienced to not make you cum. Your body tensed and clenched, the moan so loud that not even the man's hand could completely silence you. Everything stopped as that sensation filled you, along with something else that you were quick to identify as soon as you came down from your ecstasy.

William only waited to empty all his cum inside you to pull out and raise his pants back up. He smoothed his clothes and made sure he didn't have any stains or fluids on him, as well as pushing back his hair and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched his cream escape from your cunt, the sight so grotesque that it almost gave him an erection again.

There was a knock at the door. William tensed completely, but he was used to doing things he shouldn't, so his body reacted quickly.

“Wait a minute!”, he exclaimed. You were still in a daze, completely lost in your first orgasm, so it was up to him to clean you up a bit and pull up your clothes. Then he picked you up like a princess, as he always did. You leaned back against his chest, eyes half closed, tired. He smiled, a little less maliciously than before, and opened the door.

Outside was Clara. William explained that when he went up to check on you, you asked him for help to go to the bathroom, as you were too tired from the flu to get up on your own. And he had just gone in to get you back to bed. The woman smiled, extremely happy to have a man like him at her side. She kissed your forehead and wished you a good night, only to then caress her husband's face and go into the bathroom, exclaiming that the Emilys had already left.

William took you to your room, laying you down and tucking you in. He lay down on the sheets and held you, deciding to give you some affection. You snuggled up to him, a little more lucid now but also very exhausted, a smile on your face despite how fucked up you knew everything was.

In his room, Michael clenched his fists so hard that he was hurting himself. Every time he thought that maybe William wasn't as terrible as he seemed, he went and showed him that yes, he could be worse. Much worse.

But who would believe him, especially when you would never betray your manipulative father?

[thefrogdalorian]

Pieces

Word Count: 3046 Rating: Teen Summary: Your worst fears are almost realised when Din returns from his latest job with the New Republic injured and distressed. Despite your emotions, you diligently tend to his wounds and put his pieces back together. Content Warnings: Descriptions of blood/injuries, mentioned violence against children and non-sexual nudity. Author's Note: Well I got back from my trip late last night and I just needed to get this thing out of me today. I had a great time seeing my friends but man I missed sitting down and writing!! This was meant to be way softer but it went a bit dark with the descriptions of what Din saw, oops. Anyway, I just love writing someone taking care of this poor, stressed man. He deserves everything and I want to squeeze him tightly and rub his scalp just like reader in this fic.

Link to read on AO3

Your heart constricted as you gazed at the torn flesh and thick red liquid that streaked a terrible path down Din’s unusually pale face. The cut just above his eye was, mercifully, not too deep; although, there was still a considerable amount of blood that was flowing from it, disturbed by the Bacta wipe that you had carefully dabbed over the scab that had formed during the hours Din had spent cooped up in a cockpit while returning from his latest job with the New Republic. You shook your head slightly as you took him in, a gesture borne out of both your gratitude that he had not suffered more serious harm and your annoyance that he had even been in such a position in the first place. 

Despite your shaky hands as you clasped the wipe tightly between your fingers, you were trying to project calmness for Din. It was proving an increasingly difficult task, given the distressing thoughts that were currently racing through your mind. You knew things could have been worse than just a few superficial cuts and bruises and that you should be grateful above all else. But what if Din had never made it home and instead you had been greeted by the sight of a New Republic pilot in distinctive orange uniform, standing at your door to impart the worst possible news and send your world tumbling down around you in the process? You tried to focus on the task at hand. But it was a dark thought that your brain seemed determined to constantly remind you of, sending a pang of sickness to the pit of your stomach each time. 

You had already cleaned several smaller cuts with a Bacta wipe, but now you focused your attention on the largest of them all. It was an angry red mark situated just above Din’s left eyebrow. The sight of it caused your heart to constrict once again at the reminder of the pummelling Din had taken. He was no stranger to physical altercations, that much you knew, but judging by the scant details he had provided you with before you had started treating him, he had been lucky to escape the planet with his life. 

You paused your ministrations temporarily; Din looked at you before swiftly averting his gaze once you met it. But you had locked eyes long enough to notice that his brown eyes were misty with an emotion you could not quite place. Din looked embarrassed, apologetic and scared all at once–you wanted to gather him tightly into your arms and never allow him to leave your sight again. He looked so small, so childlike… as though he was just a scared little boy who had taken a beating, not a grown adult man with broad shoulders and a hulking frame that intimidated most people he encountered, with a reputation as a formidable former bounty-hunter. The part of you that urged to hold him tightly was warring with the other part of you that wanted to scream at him until you were blue in the face, furious at how reckless he had been. 

Did he not realise how utterly devastated you would be if something happened to him? How lost and afraid Grogu would be? The two of you relied on him so much. You loved him so much… your lives would never be the same if something terrible happened to him. You had been lucky this time that the injuries looked far more serious than they actually were. 

Despite how long you had had to adjust to the shock, you could still feel your heart pounding deep inside your chest. Your body had not recovered from the shock of the first glimpse of Din standing there, just standing inside your cabin, having freshly removed his helmet to reveal a sickening array of cuts and bruises that littered his handsome face. Your mouth was dry and it felt like you had a mouthful of Tattooinian sand stuck to your tongue; your pulse boomed in your ears as you finished wiping the cut with trembling fingers.

A natural medic, you were not. But the sight of the man you adored in pain had sent you striding towards the cupboard where Din’s Med kit was stored without hesitation, despite his protestations from behind you that he could take care of himself. You knew that Din was more than capable of tending to his own wounds. After all, he had spent so much of his adult life alone. But that fact did not mean he needed to be a martyr anymore, especially now that he had you.

Din had placed an already-asleep Grogu in his room before he returned to the kitchen and gingerly lowered himself onto a chair at the table while you prepared the materials you would need to care for him properly. Fortunately, you were well stocked-up with Bacta. Its healing properties were infamous across the galaxy. Although it was a precious commodity, with an accompanying hefty price tag, it was a vital resource for someone with as physically demanding a job as Din.

Din had been brave throughout the entire process, but now that you were finally treating the largest and deepest of the myriad cuts he had obtained, the steely mask was starting to slip. Your chest ached as you noticed a single tear streak its way down his cheek, mixing with the thick red blood that had already settled there.

“Din…” You whispered, tenderly cupping his stubbly cheek in your hand. Din further squeezed shut his already closed eyes and exhaled shakily. “I’m almost finished.”

He weakly nodded as you grabbed a Bacta patch from the Med Kit on the table and carefully took it from its wrapping. Din sharply inhaled as you placed it over the sensitive wound, the injury still clearly troubling him despite the careful attention you had focused on the appalling cut.

“There we go. That should get to work quickly,” You offered, despite knowing that Din had far more intimate knowledge of what healing from wounds entailed than you could ever hope to possess. 

Din nodded and opened his eyes slowly. But there was no warmth in those brown eyes you loved so much. They were glassy, pained; the crinkles around Din’s eyes and the wrinkles lined his forehead seemed deepened and more drawn than usual, too. A legacy of the agonising ordeal.

“Thank you,” Din whispered. His ordinarily strong, firm voice was now quiet and shaky. 

Any desire you had to lecture Din about how reckless he was for endangering himself and remind him of how terrified you were of losing him, was extinguished in an instant. The sight of him before you, broken and subdued had refocused your priorities. The time to discuss the nature of Din’s work and how much it concerned you would come. But, for now, the most important thing was to put the pieces of Din that had clearly been shattered by whatever ordeal he had just experienced back together. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You gently asked, simultaneously not wanting to pry but likewise to give him the opportunity to discuss his feelings. 

Din nodded slowly. You reached out and placed your hands on his large hands, stroking them lightly and feeling the soft flesh and dark hairs beneath your fingertips. 

“Okay, Din,” You breathed, “I’m here.”

“I was tracking a target on Numidian Prime. He was accused of smuggling weapons for Imperial remnants. It’s a forest planet, plenty of undergrowth for us to hide in,” Din explained, his eyes focused on your joined hands as he struggled to make eye contact. “I thought things would be over relatively quickly. I was gathering intelligence and preparing to strike later. Until… I saw where he was heading.”

“He was armed to the teeth with the weapons. I was supposed only to watch him, but then I saw him approaching a village. It was a tiny settlement, surrounded by plants on all sides. They would have been defenceless… they had no warning. I wasn’t supposed to intervene, the guy was known to be lethal. But, cyare… there were…” Din squeezed his eyes shut again. “There were children, playing outside the huts. I left Grogu in a safe spot, sealed in his pod. Then I went after them. The kids… I had to try and save them,” Din’s voice was quivering now. His eyes flew open, meeting yours. The look in them was chilling: haunted by the sights he had seen. “I was too late,” Din finished the terrible account of affairs. His brown eyes were staring through you, distant. 

“Oh, Din,” You whispered, tears forming in your own eyes at his distress.

“After he… had finished with them, he turned around and saw me. I underestimated how well equipped he was. All I could do was turn and run. I got away by a hair’s breadth. Grogu did his best but… my injuries were more than his little body could cope with. What if he had pushed his powers too far? What if it was him in that village?”

“Din, listen to me,” You said firmly, surprised at the strength of your voice. Din’s eyes widened and his eyebrows raised in shock. You grabbed his face in your hands again and stroked his cheeks carefully. “Neither of those things happened. Grogu is safe, sleeping soundly in his cot. Despite the risk you took, you did the right thing. But there was absolutely nothing you could have done. He was an evil man who was hellbent on destruction. He did a terrible thing to innocent people. You are a good man, you tried your best to stop him," You paused, searching Din's face to gauge whether your words were resonating with him. Din nodded slowly in response, so you continued: "But you cannot fix everything in the galaxy. Evil is always going to exist. Thank the Force that the worst did not happen, you got to come home to your home, to your family. I love you so much and Grogu does too. What we would do without you… well, I don’t know. Every time you leave… I fear you will never return. That thought terrifies me. I don’t want to lose you”

Din’s eyes squeezed shut again, tears freely flowing down his cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you,” He sniffled. 

“I know, I know,” You soothed, wiping the tears with your thumbs. “Look, it’s been a long day. Let's get you cleaned up in the fresher, then we should get some rest.”

You were both fearful of Din upsetting himself further with such fresh injuries and mindful of the fact he still wore his beskar’gam. Luckily, your gentle suggestion was met with a small nod. You took his gloveless hands and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the fresher.

Din’s hands were shaking and he was struggling with his vambraces. The clasps that he had fastened and unfastened countless times as part of the solemn daily routine of attaching his beskar’gam as a proud Mandalorian were proving problematic after his ordeal.

“Let me,” You said softly, your fingers moving to the clasps to assist him. You moved to his shoulder pauldrons and carefully removed his bandolier and belt before turning your attention to his chest plate. Din nodded in gratitude before he moved to remove the various pieces that remained, now able to move more freely with the top half of his body unencumbered by the heavy, restrictive armour.

While Din removed the final pieces of his armour, you removed your own garments, before you stepped into the shower and turned the jets to the hottest and most powerful settings. The curtain rustled slightly as Din joined you, his body now completely bared to you.

The sight of Din undressed never ceased to take your breath away. His broad shoulders, toned body and waist were certainly a feast for your eyes. But after the arduous day you had endured, there was no sensual element provoked by your nude forms in close proximity. 

You took the sponge from the shelf in the shower and ran it under the jets, before lathering it with Din’s favourite scented soap. You motioned for him to step closer and he tentatively approached. Din positioned himself under the hot jets, his broad back facing you. You ran the sponge over the expanse of his tan skin, which had mercifully regained its colour compared to how pale he had looked as you began treating his injuries, watching in awe as his shoulders visibly relaxed. The tension and knots visible in the muscles beneath his skin dissipated with each careful brush of the sponge across his soft skin.

Din sighed deeply, clearly appreciating your ministrations. You were grateful that you could bring him some comfort after everything he had been through. He turned to face you slowly, until he was now facing you. His eyes had regained some of their vibrancy and his face seemed less haunted. Emboldened by how much your touches had seemingly helped Din to regain his spark, you paid similar care to his front, careful to avoid wetting the Bacta patch you had placed on the cut above his eyebrow.

"Turn around and tilt your head back," You instructed, intending to wash Din's hair. 

Din complied and you reached for the bottle on the shelf. You squeezed the bottle and the thick, sweet-smelling product he used for his hair emptied into your palms. You rubbed your hands together, creating a lather before you reached your hands into his curls. You ensured the product was evenly spread throughout his hair and raked your nails across his scalp, just the way you knew he liked it.

“Thank you, cyare,” Din practically purred.

“You’re welcome,” You replied, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as he turned to face you once more.

You went to shut off the water but Din’s hand flew out. He gently grabbed your wrist to prevent you from stopping the hot jets raining down on you.

“No, now let me take care of you. Turn around,” Din whispered. 

“Din, it’s fine–” You started.

“No,” Din’s low voice cut you off. “You’ve taken care of me enough today. Now it’s my turn to return the favour.”

You rolled your eyes and affectionately scoffed as you complied with his demand. But such a flippant response was soon replaced by a deep, blissful sigh as Din began to take care of you. For such a hulking man who had undergone extensive training as a ruthless warrior he was achingly gentle at times. Din dutifully washed your body, even using his enormous hands to massage your shoulders. Once satisfied with his handiwork, he shut the jets off and grabbed your hand, leading you to the fluffy towels you had placed on the counter.

As the two of you towelled yourselves off, you glanced over at Din and were relieved to see the shift in his demeanour. No doubt the harrowing, emotional sights of the day would take longer to heal than the physical wounds he had sustained. But at least he seemed calmer and closer to the man who had left your cabin for the fateful job on Numidian Prime just a few days ago. Din yawned as he dressed in the soft cotton garments he wore to sleep in and you were grateful that he seemed tired enough to rest.

Din took your hand carefully and you walked together into your room, clambering between the soft sheets of your cot. Din moved to pull you into him, the position you usually took up while sleeping. But you shook your head to stop him.

“Let me hold you,” You whispered into Din’s ear, placing another soft kiss on his cheek. Din nodded and rolled over, his back facing you. 

You buried your nose into the short, dark brown curls that lay at the nape of Din’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent as your arms squeezed him tightly, hands joined on his stomach as his larger hands came to rest on yours.

You turned the light off and were about to open your mouth to say goodnight Din’s deep voice rumbled next to you.

“That was my last job with the New Republic,” Din whispered decisively into the darkness. "I won't put you through it anymore. I'm sorry for putting you through it for so long."

You silently thanked Maker that he had reached this decision without need for a grand screaming match where you had to talk sense into him. Din Djarin was not a reckless man when it came to his loved ones. He cared deeply about others. It was precisely that compassionate side of him that you had first fallen for. But it was also the side of him that had come so close to costing you everything.

"Thank you, Din," You said gratefully. "I love you. It has been unpleasant, all the uncertainty. But I will always be here to put you back together, should you ever need me to."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you. I love you more deeply than I ever thought possible," Din said, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it softly.

"You deserve everything nice and all the love in this galaxy, Din Djarin," You replied sincerely as you squeezed him tightly.

"Goodnight, cyare," Din said sleepily. The combination of your tight embrace and words had the desired effect and he was already beginning to drift off into slumber.

"Goodnight, Din," You hummed.

You lay there for a few more minutes, feeling completely at peace. You knew that the man that you loved was safe in your arms, content and relaxed about the future.

There would be no more stressful periods of waiting around for Din to return from jobs ahead. No more fearing what terrible sight would greet you when he walked through the door. Din had survived this ordeal without grave injury. The worst had not happened. The worst was not going to happen.

You had a life to look forward to together, yet you were not naive enough to believe that a life with Din Djarin would be a simple one. 

Still, you knew you would always be there to put Din's pieces back together. 

[immeasurablesaladagere]

can i have a fic where little House has a nightmare where Wilson acts cruel and bad like his dad and then he's scared of Wilson but eventually realises Wilson's safe after he gives him space and then comes to him for comfort (mayb featuring kitty)

- @tummy-rubs-for-wilson-pup

Here you are :) This fic includes the taking of comfort objects and some mean things said about agere by nightmare-Wilson, as a heads up. Might not be super fun to read if you're small.

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Word Count: 1318

Summery: House has a nightmare about Wilson resenting him for his regression.

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House woke up small, buried in the soft blankets of his bed and pleasantly fuzzy. He yawned and looked around for Kitty, but he was nowhere to be found. He was probably just hiding. For now, his growling stomach was more important than finding Kitty, who was probably just having an adventure in the closet, so he reached for his cane and made his way into the kitchen where Wilson was typing on his laptop and drinking coffee.

“Wilson, I want breakfast. Can you make pancakes?” He asked. He expected Wilson to follow it up with a ‘what do we say?’, but instead he sighed, almost irritated.

Wilson didn’t even turn around to look at him. “Make your own breakfast, House.” 

“…I’m small. You’re supposed to make breakfast when I’m small, ‘cause I’m not s’posed to use the stove.” Maybe Wilson didn’t notice that he was little? Usually he did, but it was early. Wilson had been very insistent that he do all of the cooking when House was regressed, because the oven was only for adults and he could get hurt. And even if he was allowed, he couldn’t remember all of the steps to make pancakes by himself.

“Then get cereal, I don’t care. I’m not going to make you breakfast, you can do that by yourself.” 

Wilson sounded angry with him, but he didn’t know why. Did he do something? He couldn’t remember doing anything bad… “Are you… mad at me?” He asked hesitantly.

This time Wilson did turn around, and House wished he hadn’t. His glare was cold and it sent a chill down his spine. “You know what? Yes, I am. I’m mad that myroommate is an adult man that acts like a child that I have to take care of, carrying around that stupid cat and throwing temper tantrums!” He laughed harshly, “I mean, what has my life come to, looking after a man-baby in my own home?”

House stood frozen. Fear and shame swirled around in his stomach. Did he really think that? Wilson had told him so many times that he was okay with his regression; he’d walked him through tantrums and meltdowns, read him stories, told him that he loved him, and he never seemed upset, but maybe House had just missed it?

“But I-I thought you said it was okay..?” Did this mean Wilson didn’t wanna take care of him anymore? He didn’t want that. “I didn’t mean to be bad, I—“

“Oh cut the crap, House!” Wilson snapped, standing up from the table, “Enough with the baby-talk nonsense! It’s embarrassing! This whole thing is embarrassing!”

He wanted to be big again. He didn’t want Wilson to keep yelling at him, but his headspace was only slipping younger the angrier Wilson got. His head was too fuzzy for him to think and he was afraid, he was afraid of Wilson, of his caregiver, as he got closer and closer venting his frustrations at him, backing him up until he hit the kitchen counter. He wanted Kitty. Where was Kitty?

Wilson chuckled in disbelief and disgust. “Seriously? That’s all you can think about?” House watched in horror as Wilson’s face began to distort, turning into warping and twisting goo before settling on a gruesome mixture between Wilson and the face of his father. “I threw that stupid thing in the dumpster—“

No.

His father’s voice echoed through his head, “I threw those stupid toys in the dumpster. You don’t need them anymore, Greg. This is for your own good.” 

“—your own good. Are you even listening to me!?”

Not Kitty. He needed Kitty back, Kitty couldn’t be gone, he needed him. Tears welled up in his eyes but he couldn’t even move to wipe them away, and that seemed to make Dad-Wilson angrier.

“And now you’re crying! You know what?” He threw up his hands, “Get out. Go find your cat, and don’t bother coming back. I’ll leave your stuff outside the door.”

Wilson was kicking him out? He was panicking now. His entire body felt like it was about to shake apart. Could he do that? He was so little and he was gonna be all alone!

“House.”

“Get out, House!”

Wilson hated him all this time. He thought he was gross and embarrassing and stupid—

“House.”

Dad-Wilson got right up in his face. “Can’t you hear me!? I said—“

-

“House!”

House shot awake with a jolt. He was fuzzy and small and his entire body was shaking and damp with sweat. It took him a second to catch his breath and realize that Wilson was leaning over him, but once he did he shoved him back as hard as he could and squirmed away to the other side of the bed.

“Woah, easy!” Wilson held up his hands in surrender, and he was just Wilson now. He didn’t look scary anymore, or angry, or like Dad, but House kept a large distance between them anyway. 

“Go ‘way.” He spat, voice wobbling.

“It’s alright, it was just a dream…” Wilson said gently, and he tried to get closer.

House grabbed the nearest pillow and clumsily flung it at him. He missed, but Wilson stopped moving. “No! You got rid of Kitty! Get out!”

“I got rid of—? No, I didn’t- House, look.” Wilson turned towards the closet and opened it, and after a moment, pulled Kitty out from between some boxes. “See? Kitty’s right here. I’m just going to put him down on the bed, okay? You can have him.” He set Kitty down on the bed, and House grabbed him the second it was in reach and clutched him to his chest.

House let out a shaky breath of relief into Kitty’s fur. Kitty was okay! Wilson didn’t get rid of him, Kitty was safe.

Wilson stood back from the bed uncomfortably, watching him like he was a scared animal. He felt like one. Was it really just a dream? 

Wilson slowly sat down against the wall. “I’m just going to sit here, okay? You don’t have to talk, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

They sat in silence for several minutes as House calmed down, petting Kitty’s fur to remind himself that he was there and that Wilson really hadn’t thrown him away, and that the other things in his dream probably weren’t real either. Wilson stayed where he was the whole time, watching him with a sad look on his face, and now that House wasn’t panicking all he wanted was for Wilson to comfort him. He usually didn’t like cuddles, but now he wanted a hug. He wanted Wilson to tell him that everything Dream-Wilson said was wrong.

“‘Had a dream you got rid of Kitty, and you were mad at me…” He mumbled.

“That sounds scary.” 

“Because I was little.”

Wilson made a hurt noise. “I was mad at you in the dream because you were little?”

“Mhm.”

“That sounds awful. Can I come onto the bed?”

House was pretty sure that Wilson was safe now, so he nodded, and Wilson sat down carefully beside him. Now that his caregiver was so close, he couldn’t resist the part of him that was desperate for reassurance, for a hug, for anything. 

“Can I—“

House cut him off by tipping forward into his arms and hugging him.

“Oh… Okay.” Wilson’s hand rubbed up and down his back in slow, calming circles, and the jittery feeling under his skin slowly began to fade away. “I’ll never be mad at you for regressing, House. It makes you happy. And I would never take Kitty from you.”

House hummed against Wilson’s shoulder and held Kitty close. He believed Wilson, but he still didn’t feel like letting Kitty out of his sight any time soon. 

Suddenly his stomach growled loudly, and Wilson pulled away.

“Are you hungry? I can make breakfast. How does pancakes sound?”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 3)

7.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, some angst, putting the "enemies" in "enemies-to-lovers", some sexual references, more childish arguments between adults who clearly want each other

Series Masterlist

“Oi! Coach Buck! Need a hand?”

“Thanks Jamie.” I smiled as I handed my duffel bag to a smiling Jamie Tartt. Just as I was about to ask where he got his adorable headband a gruff voice barked out-

“Whistle!”

With a groan, I turned my attention to the middle of the parking lot, which was full of Whippets and Greyhounds, who, up until a moment ago, were mingling and chattering as they loaded their luggage onto the two team buses. In the center of it all stood Rebecca, still managing to look like an absolute goddess in her ponytail and activewear that probably cost more than I could ever afford, and Roy, standing like a drill sergeant in a black tracksuit, scowling at everyone. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was just angry to be in a parking lot at six in the morning with two professional soccer teams who were acting more like teens going on an overnight trip. But, knowing Roy Kent, that was just his stupid, rugged face.

Rebecca plastered on a smile as everyone turned in their direction. “Thank you, Roy,” she hummed. She turned to the two teams. “Good morning, all!” Everyone called back either mumbled or enthusiastic greetings- nothing in between, although I did notice that most people seemed excited. “Right, so thank you all for being on time. We are just about ready to head on out. But we thought, in the spirit of this weekend, that we shouldn’t all be on our separate buses. Instead, you will be seated with someone from the other team, Greyhounds and Whippets.” There was a pleased buzz among the players. “Just a way to start getting to know each other and becoming that united Richmond community I know we can be.” With those last words, her eyes pointed meaningfully at Roy and then me.

It was all a bit embarrassing. There was no secret at Nelson Road that the reason for the “First Annual Pre-Season Retreat” was because of us. It had become something of a joke. Someone even tried to start calling us “lovebirds” after Rebecca’d screamed at us in the hallway, but Roy had very quickly put a stop to that with just a growl. Of course, no one could stop Lucas from making those same jokes to me in private as we watched Lust Conquers All at my place.

“So, Whippets, you’ll report to your dear Coach Lucas-” Rebecca pointed at Lucas, who stood between the buses holding a drawstring bag. “-and you’ll pull out the name of one of the Greyhounds. Once you have your seat partner, you can start climbing aboard.” She offered me that same tight smile she’d had that day in her office after she screamed at Roy and me. “Coach Buck, why don’t you lead by example?”

Praying my blush wasn’t as bright as it felt, I made my way to Lucas, who looked suspiciously chipper as I dipped my hand into the bag. I felt around the papers before grabbing one, praying I’d get Jamie, or Dani, or Sam, or Nate, literally anyone but-

“Roy Kent,” I read flatly, narrowing my eyes at the still-grinning Lucas. “This thing’s fucking rigged,” I grumbled.

“Of course it’s rigged,” confirmed Rebecca, who I hadn’t realized had moved towards the buses. “You two are the whole reason we’re here in the first place. Now on you go.” She gestured towards the Whippets’ bus. “Any two seats as long as they’re together.” She turned to Lucas. “Go ahead and put the real papers in, please.”

I watched with utmost betrayal (and a little admiration) as Lucas emptied out the bag- which I now realized was full of papers just bearing Roy’s name- and filled it with fresh pages, which held the names of people I’d actually want to sit with.

Roy, whose pained expression probably matched my own, scowled down at me as we headed towards the bus doors. “You don’t get fucking carsick, do you?”

“Nope.” What the fuck?

He nodded. “Good. We’re sitting in the back. Dunno about your team, but mine’s annoying as fuck on road trips, and I want to be as far away from them as possible.” He stomped up the steps, not bothering to glance back to see if I was following him. I let out a deep breath and adjusted my backpack on my shoulder.

When I stepped onto the bus, Roy was already sitting in the very back, arms crossed and eyes focused on the window. Because, obviously, he took the window seat. With a huff, I plopped down next to him, stuffing my backpack between my feet.

“Coach! Can we sit with you?” Jamie had stepped onto the bus, followed by Kira, the Whippets’ newly dubbed captain.

“No!” Roy barked, rolling his eyes.

Despite Roy’s answer, Jamie and Kira sat down in front of us, with Jamie assuring Kira that Coach Kent was just joking. He turned and sat up on his knees to look over the seats at us while the rest of the bus filled up.

“Coach, can we roast marshmallows tonight?”

Roy looked comically disgusted, either by Jamie’s suggestion or the simple fact that the striker was talking to him. “Fuck no.” He turned back to the window.

Jamie pouted and turned his attention to me. “Coach Buck would let us roast marshmallows, wouldn’t ya, Coach?”

“That’s more Rebecca’s call, she’s the one planning this thing,” I reminded him. “Besides, did you even bring marshmallows?”

“Oh, no.”

With a grunt, Roy looked back at us. “Then this is a fucking pointless conversation, isn’t it?”

Jamie lit up again. “Sam brought the marshmallows, actually. I was in charge of chocolate.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed at his player before he looked back at me. “’m taking a fucking nap. If I wake up with a dick Sharpied on my face, I will make sure to find a lake to throw all of your clothes into.”

“I’d be doing you a favor,” I muttered like a child, folding my arms and slouching. “A dick on your face would distract from what a dick you are.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us. In unison, we looked up to see Rebecca, eyebrow arched as she gazed down at us. Fuck, that was the exact face my mom would make when she had to pick me up in the principal’s office.

“Jamie, could you keep an eye on the gaffers here? Make sure there’s no fighting?”

The striker nodded earnestly, clearly intent taking his job seriously. “You got it, boss.”

Next to me, Roy snorted. “What, you don’t want to do babysit us yourself?”

“Oh, no,” Rebecca scoffed. “I’ll be on the other bus. I am not subjecting myself to the two of you for the next two hours.” With that, she whipped around and strutted off the bus, offering us a teasing wave before climbing down the stairs.

I slumped further down in my seat, determined not to look at Roy for what I knew would be the longest two hours of my life.

~

Roy wasn’t sure how long he’d been napping. He just knew that when he opened his eyes, there were trees everywhere, the sky was overcast, the players had finally stopped singing Taylor Swift songs, and someone’s head was on his shoulder.

He looked down out of the corner of his eyes. Her eyes were closed, and her eyebrows were scrunched, and the way her lips twitched made Roy wonder what she could be dreaming about. Him? She’d probably say that was a fucking nightmare.

A small, idiotic part of Roy wanted her to stay there, close to him. Wrapping an arm around her was almost fucking tempting, especially when she shifted closer and he caught a whiff of- was that lavender? Fuck, why did she always smell nice? Another part of him- the logical part, he assured himself- wanted to wake her up by shoving her off of himself and chastising her for drooling on him.

But the part of him that didn’t want Jamie fucking Tartt to narc on him decided just to pretend he was still napping and sit up a little, gently, so that she would slowly wake up, realize how fucking close she was to him, and get the fuck off of him. So, that was what Roy did.

Sure enough, as soon as he shifted, her eyes fluttered open. Quickly, she pulled herself away from Roy, checking that he was still asleep- or at least appeared so. Relieved to see his eyes closed, she turned her face towards the aisle, hoping none of the players had seen her admittedly embarrassing moment.

That stupid part of Roy missed her warmth.

After a bit, figuring she wouldn’t suspect a thing, Roy pretended to wake up, wondering why he fucking cared so much going through all this trouble to save her the embarrassment of being caught using his shoulder as a pillow.He glanced over at her; as if she could feel his gaze, she turned in his direction, her cheeks growing in color the moment their eyes met.

“Don’t worry,” she hummed, cool as ever. “Didn’t draw a dick on you. Couldn’t find my Sharpie.”

Instead of the small chuckle that grew in his chest, Roy gave a little grunt of acknowledgement before pressing his forehead to the cool window, not sure what he’d do if he kept looking at her, in those leggings and that cozy-looking fleece jacket with the little Whippets logo embroidered right over her heart. He spent the rest of the bus ride sitting like that, watching the trees whizz by, listening as Jamie turned around and engaged her in an animated conversation about the places she’d visited in England so far, with both of them giggling when Jamie mentioned that club. Roy’s ears grew white-hot as he remembered that night when all three of them were there. Fucking idiot.

What if he’d been in a good mood that night? If he’d smiled and helped a pretty stranger order her drink? If he’d asked where she was from and discovered she was American? If he inquired about what brought her to England and discovered who she was? Hell, what if he’d done his homework and read the damn report Keeley had written? He’d have recognized her immediately and probably put in the effort to introduce himself. Maybe even bought her that drink, welcome her to Richmond. And they’d smile at each other at work and have pleasant conversations and chat as they ran on the treadmills at the end of the day and share the Dog Track like mature adults and maybe one day, down the road, Roy would ask what she was up to some weekend and if she would maybe be interested in-

Nope. Nope. Shut the fuck up, Roy. Just keep staring at the fucking trees.

When the bus finally arrived at the campground, Roy did some quick math, and realized they’d napped together for about forty minutes. Forty minutes of her sleeping with her head on his shoulder, their faces just centimeters away from each other without anyone shouting or arguing.

Not that it fucking mattered.

Everyone loaded off the buses, chattering excitedly. Finding a good opportunity to put some space between them after the too-close bus ride, Roy helped unload the luggage from the Whippets’ bus, relishing the chance to throw Jamie’s bright pink leather duffel bag in his face.

Once everyone had their belongings, Rebecca waved to get everyone’s attention, projecting her voice in a way that impressed even the gaffers. “Right then. So, we have just a short trek to the cabins. Ladies will be one way, gentlemen the other, and coaches-” The coaching staff perked up. “We’ll be in the middle.”

Roy threw his head back as Rebecca warned the players against turning the weekend into the Olympic Village, which caused more than a few Greyhounds to pout. All of the coaches would be sharing a cabin? More of this co-ed shit? Sharing with anyone would be bad enough, Roy would rather sleep on the fucking bus than have to listen to Coach Beard’s snoring, but having to spend his weekend sleeping in the same room as-

“You know you’re in the way.”

“Fucking seriously?” He turned around and glared at the coach as she adjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder, ponytail bouncing like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial. “There’s an entire fucking forest. Just fucking go around me.”

Jamie Tartt clicked his tongue as he walked by. “Careful, you two, or I’ll have to tell Rebecca you’re bickerin’ again.”

“Fuck off, Tartt,” Roy grumbled, just as Coach Buck muttered, “Can it, Jamie.” The two coaches blinked at one another before following the group along the path, neither of them saying anything more as they walked side by side.

~

“Bunk beds. Of course it’s fucking bunk beds.” Roy Kent scowled and dropped his bag on the cabin floor, right in front of the doorway.

“Seriously, Kent?” I groaned, glaring down at his stupid duffel bag. “Move your fucking bag.”

He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless Roy picked his bag back up and moved further into the cabin. I followed him in, tossing my own bag onto the closest bunk I could find. Slowly the other coaches and Rebecca filed in, all carrying their luggage.

Sitting on one of the bottom bunks, Roy scowled. “Any chance I’m allowed to sleep outside and hope a fucking badger mauls me?”

Before I could second that idea, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Roy, I will assign you and your shit knee to a top bunk if you don’t watch it. Besides,” she continued, “just think of this as one big sleepover. We’ll stay up late, tell ghost stories, share our deepest secrets, and drink the booze I know Coach Beard has in his backpack.”

“Moonshine always makes me feel better when I’m feeling a little homesick,” Beard explained, winking in my direction. I grinned back.

“Right,” Rebecca hummed. “Well, we are all meeting in that big open space once we’re settled in.” She checked her watch. “Doctor Sharon should be arriving soon.”

Nate lit up as he unzipped his suitcase. “Doctor Sharon’s coming?”

Rebecca nodded. “She’ll be running this weekend basically. She’s kind enough to drive back and forth to be with us.”

“We could’ve just driven back and forth?” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck!”

I scoffed as Lucas tossed his own bag on the bunk above mine. “You really think Rebecca’d give us that option?”

“No one fucking asked you,” he mumbled, loud enough that only we could hear.

Lucas gripped my shoulders and steered me towards the doors. “Why don’t we head on out before Rebecca schedules you two some couple’s counseling, hmm?”

About thirty minutes later, both teams were assembled in the amphitheater behind the coaches’ cabin, listening as Doctor Sharon explained what the weekend would consist of.

“… and I did make sure to schedule time for team-building games,” she was saying, which was rewarded with a giant whoop from Isaac McAdoo. “Now, there will be a block of time in the afternoons where you’re able to train with your coaches-” She gestured towards us. “-and I will be set up to meet with anyone who just needs to talk one-on-one during that time.”

My eyes wandered as Doctor Sharon continued to talk about the small groups we’d all been assigned to. It was almost impressive to see the Greyhounds pay such attention; they could be absolute toddlers sometimes with all that energy, but apparently something about Doctor Sharon commanded their respect and attention. She and I had only said hello a couple of times, but already I liked her no-nonsense attitude.

As I continued looking around, a pair of brown eyes locked with mine across the amphitheater. Fucking Roy Kent, making me spend my weekend here, I thought with an instinctive scowl, which was quickly returned by the bearded man.

“Hey,” Lucas hissed as he elbowed me. “Stop undressing that man with your eyes. I don’t care about how much you want to run your hands through his chest hair and let him have his way with you. You are in public, Bucky.”

I broke the staring contest to gape at Lucas. “Quit saying shit like that! Someone’s going to fucking hear you one of these days.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not exactly a huge secret. Everyone knows you two want to shag.” He loved using British slang now, especially when he was being obnoxious. “Well, except maybe you two.”

“Luke, I swear to-”

“So, go ahead and get into your groups,” Doctor Sharon was saying. “And we’ll start our ice breaker.”

Lucas stood and pulled me up with him. “Gee, I wonder who’s in your group.”

“Bite me,” I grumbled as I left him to walk over to Dani, who I knew was in my small group based on the lists Rebecca had given everyone.

“Hola, Coach Bucky!” he greeted with that dazzling smile. “I am so excited that we are in the same group for this weekend!”

I couldn’t help but return his infectious grin. “It’ll be fun,” I agreed. Of course, I immediately regretted my words when Roy strode over to us, already frowning.

“Can’t believe we’re in the same fucking group,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Really?” I scoffed as Kira, Olivia, one of my defenders, and a couple more Greyhounds- Colin Hughes and Richard Montlaur- strolled over. “You think Rebecca wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to punish us even more?”

He only growled in response, which I’d realized was his way of admitting that I was right about something without actually telling me I was right. Fucking idiot. Against my will, Lucas had given me the lowdown on Roy Kent’s romantic history; how the hell did he get models and actresses to sleep with him? He was so damn weird.

Okay, well he had been a successful soccer player and was a pretty solid coach now. Which meant he was famous. And probably pretty wealthy. And obviously in shape. And I could see how some people would think he was attractive in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way way. And even I had to admit that there was something kind of sexy about that growling way he spoke-

Realizing I was staring at Roy still, I turned my attention to the players who’d joined us. “Hey Colin, how ya doing?”

He nodded. “Good, good. Just kind of cold.” He rubbed his bare arms.

Before I could point out his lack of jacket, Doctor Sharon called for everyone’s attention. “Right. Just to start things off simply, we are going to play Human Knot. It’s a great way to practice cooperation and communication. So, please, circle up, grab hands, and, well, you know the rest.”

Our group did as we were told, quickly thrusting our hands into the center and grabbing whoever we could. The next few minutes were full of tugging and climbing over arms and ducking under arms. Despite Roy’s growling, I found myself having fun, laughing with the players as we tried to solve our self-made puzzle, determined to be the first group finished. It wasn’t until we were nearly done that I realized whose hand was holding in my left.

“Whoo! Bucky!” Lucas called across the field as my group spread out into a perfect circle, finished with our game.

Roy’s eyes were fixed on our joined hands, a scowl on his bearded face. I wondered if my hand was warm in his, like his felt in mine. Not that it mattered; the moment Doctor Sharon declared our team the winners of the game, he yanked his hand out of mine, nearly ripping my arm off in the process.

“Dick,” I hissed, rubbing my now sore shoulder.

“Priss,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

“How are we doing here, coaches?” Rebecca, who’d appeared with the stealth of a ninja, clapped her hands on our shoulders, beaming at us with scrutiny behind her eyes, daring either of us to complain.

In unison, we both plastered on fake smiles and chirped, “Great!”

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, Roy watched as she waved goodbye to everyone except him, then went on her merry way to Lucas so they could walk to the dining hall together, hating the feeling he got in his stomach as he watched her figure stroll away.

~

It was the longest fucking morning of Roy Kent’s life. He’d had to play childish icebreaker games, do a fucking relay race that killed his knee, and sit in some fucking hippie circle talking about what it means to be a good listener or some shit. Worst of all, he had to do all of it while trying not to stare at the only other coach in his group.

“How’s it going?”

Because this was shaping up to also be the worst day of Roy Kent’s life, Jamie had appeared at Roy’s side; Roy wondered if the striker had caught him staring at the Whippets’ manager.

When Roy only grunted in response, Jamie continued talking as the two men began walking. “Boy, you really got it bad for Coach Buck, don’t ya?”

Roy stopped in his tracks, fists clenched at his side. “The fuck did you just say?”

Jamie cocked his head. “Coach Buck. You like her, right?” Receiving no answer, Jamie shrugged and kept walking; Roy reluctantly followed suit. “I mean, I don’t blame ya. She’s mad fit and smart and obviously likes football and she’s the only person I’ve ever seen get under your skin more than I do.”

“I don’t fucking like her,” Roy spat, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to hear Jamie’s lunacy. “Can’t fucking stand her, actually. And the feeling’s mutual so don’t worry about me hurting her fucking feelings.”

A small O formed on Jamie’s lips. “Oh fuck, you’re in complete denial then? Shit, I thought you were just trying to keep it a secret until you figured out how she feels.” He patted his coach’s back. “Let me know when you realize you fancy her so we can have a proper chat, yeah?”

Not bothering to wait for Roy’s inevitably expletive-filled answer, Jamie jogged ahead, slowing down so he could walk backwards while chatting with a trio of Whippets.

Finally alone, Roy sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. You’re in complete denial then? Fucking Jamie Tartt, he really was stupider than he looked. Roy didn’t like her; on the contrary, he thought she was the most infuriating person he’d ever met. So fucking argumentative. He’d yet to have an actual conversation with her; how was he supposed to tolerate her, let alone like her?

Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t fucking like-

“Coach Kent.” Doctor Sharon offered a small smile as she approached him. “Mind if I walk with you?”

Roy cleared his throat and his mind. “That’s fine.” He bobbled his head from side to side. “Can’t believe they got you to drive up here for this shit.”

Doctor Sharon’s smile became a smirk. “Can’t believe you’re the reason for ‘this shit’, as you call it.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Listen, I’m fucking sorry everyone has to give up their weekend, but come on, we all know Rebecca was the one who came up with this idea, fucking blame her.” He shrugged. “She could’ve just sent us to go do some fucking mediation with you and be done with it.”

The doctor shook her head. “Roy, this is about more than the two of you. This is about two teams becoming a community. It’s something Ms. Welton feels quite strongly about. She wants the Whippets to be successful, and she thinks having the Greyhounds in their corner is a key part of that. You can understand that, right?”

Roy shrugged. “Fucking guess so,” he mumbled as they approached the dining hall.

“And it doesn’t help things when her two managers are at each other’s throats all the time, does it?” Doctor Sharon asked pointedly.

“No,” Roy admitted with a defeated sigh as they joined the line for food.

Once they’d loaded their trays with whatever food Roy couldn’t be bothered to try to identify, Roy heard someone call his name. When he turned, he saw Coach Lucas waving at him from a table with all the coaches and Rebecca; only one of them looked annoyed at the sight of him.

“Come on, then,” Doctor Sharon said as she nudged Roy. “Good opportunity for you two to practice being civil.”

Roy reluctantly followed Doctor Sharon to the coaches’ table, grunting as they were greeted. Internally, he groaned when he realized he was sitting directly across from the Americans.

While everyone ate, Roy did his best to focus on Beard sitting to his right, he really did. But he kept feeling his gaze shift across the table, where he’d catch glimpses of her smiling, laughing, joking. He especially hated the way his eyes lingered on her mouth when she sipped her water through the straw of her water bottle; even without her red lipstick, he couldn’t help the way his eyes continually settled there, wondering if those lips were as soft as they looked.

“Roy? Did you hear what I said?”

Blinking and praying to whatever deity was listening that no one had caught him ogling, Roy turned to look at Nate on Beard’s other side. “What?”

Nate leaned forward. “Rebecca was telling us about a nearby field we can use for training. D’you want me to go ahead and set up cones to make the pitch?”

 Roy nodded. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

The lips he really wished were out of his eyeline started moving. “You want some help Nate?” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a brief moment. “We’ll be using it too, after all.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Coach!” Nate beamed and picked up his plate. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes returned to Roy as she grabbed her plate. She stood up and stared at him for a moment, head slightly tilted. It was an unreadable stare, one that didn’t hold her usual fiery anger. It was a look that made Roy’s stupid heart flutter for a brief moment.

Of course, she couldn’t know the effect she had on him. Fuck no. So, he let his eyes narrow at her suspiciously, much to the chagrin of an observant Doctor Sharon and the amusement of a perceptive Coach Beard, and was rewarded with an exasperated eyeroll.

“You’ve got fucking spaghetti sauce on your shirt, Kent,” she huffed.

Roy didn’t check his shirt until she had turned on her heel, put her plate in a stack of dirty dishes by the kitchen, and strutted out of the dining hall with Nate right behind her. It was only once she was out of sight that Roy looked down at his chest, where a small splatter of red stained the bright blue of his Richmond jacket, right above his stupid, stupid heart.

Fuck.

~

As much as Rebecca wanted to torture us that weekend, she still wanted winning teams. So, after Doctor Sharon’s presentation on “healthy communication methods” (during which Roy Kent communicated his annoyance by healthily glaring at me pretty much the whole time), the teams were dismissed to go to the pitch Nate and I had set up.

“Oi.”

I turned away from Lucas, who’d been asking about our warm up. Roy towered over me, his fingers twitching slightly as he stared at me. He looked like the slightest movement would spook him, so I simply raised my eyebrows to let him know I was listening.

He cleared his throat. “If you want, we can work on the north half of the pitch. You can have the shade.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lucas’s jaw drop slightly. It was hard to blame him; Roy Kent was speaking to me civilly. Even worse, he was offering to do something nice. Nate had to have put him up to it. Or Beard. Hell, knowing Rebecca, she’d probably threatened him into it.

Not that I was going to turn it down.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied. Lucas nudged me sharply. “Thanks,” I quietly added.

“Hmmph.” With a curt nod, Roy headed to the north side of the field, where, with an earsplitting “Whistle!”, he gathered his team.

Lucas blew his actual, physical whistle and had Kira lead the Whippets in warming up. With the team occupied, he turned to me. “Well, wasn’t that sweet,” he hummed, waggling his eyebrows.

Eyes glued to my players, I scoffed. “It was the least he could do, considering how we landed here in the first place. Besides, everyone’s chomping at the bit to rat on us if we start fighting. He’s probably just trying to make it look like he’s the bigger person.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Lucas laughed, turning his attention back to the team. “But hey, stay in denial, that’s fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you wake up in that man’s bed someday.”

The punch that landed on his arm would end up leaving a bruise that lasted for several days.

On the bright side, at least my assistant coach shut up and focused on practice. Sharing the field proved a bit difficult, but I found solace in the fact that Roy Kent was suffering just as much, having to pause when one of our balls ended up on their side or realizing he didn’t have enough space for a certain drill. As the afternoon came to a close, I blew my whistle and called my team over.

“Great job, all,” I declared. “I know it wasn’t our normal practice, so I really appreciate your patience.” I glanced at my watch. “You’ve got about forty minutes til dinner, so you’ve got some free time. Shower, rest. Don’t forget Doctor Sharon’s available, too.”

Kira Malone spoke up. “Actually, Coach, we’re staying out here for a bit. You’re welcome to watch if you want.”

Lucas and I exchanged looks. “Okay,” I said slowly, trying not to show my confusion.

The Whippets stayed on the field, kicking around a couple of balls. It took a moment, but I realized they were watching the Greyhounds; no, they were waiting for the Greyhounds. The moment Roy dismissed the men, they jogged over to the women, and everyone began chattering excitedly.

“What the hell are they doing?” Lucas whispered as we planted ourselves on the grass.

I shrugged. “No clue.”

Each team lined up at one end of the field, everyone looking exhilarated, bouncing on their heels and smiling. Nate strolled over to us, holding a ball in his hands.

“You two staying to watch?”

Lucas tilted his head. “What exactly are we staying to watch, Nathan?”

A knowing grin spread across the assistant coach’s face. “Oh. You’ll see. Isaac and Kira had the idea during lunch.” He turned and walked to the center circle, where he placed the ball as if a game were about to begin. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Roy and Beard standing by the goal post, watching with just as much interest and muttering to one another.

When Nate, who’d moved off the field, blew his whistle, Isaac and Kira, who were first in line, sprinted forward, racing towards the ball. Kira reached it first and began making her way towards the men’s goal; Isaac managed to steal and ball and take it the other direction. After a bit of back and forth, Isaac scored, eliciting thunderous cheers from both sides. Lucas and I exchanged glances. What the heck?

Colin Hughes and Cheri Willis competed next. Then Sam Obisanya and Sandra Finley. On and on. Eventually, every player had ran up to the ball and had a little one-on-one with a member of the other team. When Kira and Isaac ended up at the front of the line again, both lines rushed forward and, keeping their lines, exchanged giggly high-fives- as if they were children after an AYSO game instead of professional athletes.

As the players mingled and laughed, Beard and Nate made their way over to us; Roy followed, keeping his usual distance.

“Did you guys know about that?” Beard asked, eyebrows raised over his sunglasses.

We shook our heads. “You?”

Nate perked up. “Isaac told me about it during training. I guess during lunch one of the Whippets mentioned how much she liked doing playing that after practices as a kid, everyone thought it sounded like fun.” His smile turned thoughtful. “That looked like a blast for them. I had fun just watching them,” he added.

“Me too.” We all turned; there was Rebecca, watching us with an amused grin. “That is what this weekend is about.” She pointed to the players, who were beginning to make their way to cabins and showers, laughter on their lips and springs in their steps. “Respect. Collaboration. Community.” She eyed me and Roy, who’d slowly made his way over once he’d caught sight of Rebecca. “Something we could all learn, hmm?”

Roy and I turned our gazes to one another; I could tell he was trying just as hard as I was not to narrow or roll his eyes, or let out an annoyed huff, or make a snarky comment. We both knew Rebecca was waiting for us to surrender and call a truce. Maybe even pay a compliment about each other’s coaching. Hell, just a mutual nod of agreement would be enough. Just offer her some glimmer of hope that the entire season wouldn’t be all bickering and screaming.

But neither of us was willing to yield first.

“Gonna go take a fucking shower,” Roy mumbled, turning and following the players back up towards the cabin, his head ducked downward, as if he felt the same embarrassment I felt. I wondered if he was also asking himself, Why is this so fucking hard?

~

Roy banged the back of his head repeatedly against the cabin wall. This was stupid. Childish. A fucking waste of time. And he wasn’t positive, but he thought it might be a human rights violation.

Despite the players’ little game and Rebecca’s “one happy family” moment after training, they’d found a new opportunity to argue: Roy had left his towel hanging from the wrong bunk. And of course, that was a fucking problem. Because everything was a fucking problem, apparently.

“Alright, I’m done!” Coach Beard scolded, reminding Roy more of an exasperated father than an assistant coach. “You two, with me.”

The still seething managers reluctantly followed Beard along the dirt path to a small cabin, more of a shed really, filled with tools and gardening equipment. Beard opened the door and gestured for them to go inside.

“Excuse me?” she had squeaked as Roy grumbled, “What the fuck, Beard?”

With an eerie calmness that made Roy’s blood go cold, Beard nodded towards the shed. “Go inside. Do not come out until you figure out how to get along. Or you’ve banged this thing out of your systems. Or one of you is dead. At this point I don’t care.”

“I doubt Rebecca’d be okay with this,” Coach Buck tried, clearly as desperate as Roy not to go inside the shed. “Or Doctor Sharon.”

Coach Beard laughed in their faces. “Do you two really want Rebecca to know you’re fighting again?”

Fucking Beard. He had a point.

So now Roy sat on the floor of a fucking storage shed, with no light but a bare bulb above them, trying to stay in his little personal space bubble as best he could, trying not to flinch every time their knees bumped, each tiny touch sending Roy’s heart into overdrive.

“Can’t believe I’m missing the fucking s’mores to sit in a shed with you,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the same wall Roy was trying to kill himself on.

Roy snorted. “Really? You’re upset over marshmallows? That’s the most American shit I’ve ever heard. And I played for fucking Lasso.”

She tilted her head towards him, the soft light on her face making his chest tighten almost painfully. “Yeah, Kent. I’m upset over fucking marshmallows.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m missing a bonding experience with my team, idiot. You’ve coached the Greyhounds for what, three years now? And you played with most of those guys, right?” She wiped some dirt off her knee, brushing his knee as she did. “I’m still getting to know my players. Earning their trust. And I’m missing an opportunity to spend time with them off the field because I have to sit in this shed with you.”

There was a heavy silence as Roy took in her words. She was always pointing out the differences between their experiences; he was experienced, she was new, he was home, she was an outsider, he was a man, she was a woman.

Of course, when she was feeling particularly feisty, she’d also remind him that she was an Olympic champion. Which he was not.

To his surprise, she broke the silence. “Tell me about Lasso.”

Roy furrowed his brow and stared at her. “What?”

“Ted Lasso.” She shrugged. “You all keep talking about the guy. This American manager who got Roy Kent to actually tolerate him.” She narrowed her eyes, a hint of playfulness behind them this time. “Kind of curious how he managed that.”

The snort that came out of Roy’s nose surprised them both. “Dunno. He fucking wore me down with how fucking kind he is. Made me fucking soft. Wanker.”

She nodded. “So, if I’m aggressively nice, you’ll stop rolling your eyes every time I walk into the room?”

“Maybe.” Roy didn’t bother to stop the corner of his mouth from tugging upwards. “You’ve got to be real fucking annoying about it, though.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone knows you think I’m annoying as fuck already.”

Both coaches let out breathy chuckles, each thinking about how silly, and ridiculous, and stupid this whole thing was. They were fucking adults, after all. Professionals. They both wanted to lead their teams to victory; and, if they were being honest, both wanted the same for the other coach’s team.

So why the fuck were they in a fucking shed in the middle of the woods?

Roy took a shaky breath, not sure where he was going with this. “It’s impressive, you know,” he murmured. “The whole moving to a new country to start a new team shit. Don’t know how you did it.”

Even in the dim glow of the lone bulb, he could see her face tint pink. “It’s kind of fucking scary,” she admitted softly. “But it’s also kind of the coolest shit I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah,” Roy agreed, shouldering her playfully, amazed by his own actions. “Even I have to admit, it’s pretty fucking impressive.” He bobbled his head and rolled his eyes. “Almost as impressive as an Olympic gold medal.”

He liked the sheepish grin she shot him. It looked good on her. “Alright, I might bring that up a lot. But no one gets mad at Michael Phelps for talking about his.”

“That bastard has, like a million of them,” Roy laughed, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time since he’d walked into the changing room on her first day. “But I guess you have a fucking point. It’s impressive,” he repeated.

“You know what’ll be really impressive?”

Instinctively, Roy leaned closer, not caring if she noticed the way his eyes flickered down to her mouth, still gorgeous even without that red lipstick. “Hmm?”

Her raised eyebrows told him that if she noticed, she didn’t mind. “When both of our teams win the whole fucking thing at the end of this year.”

“I hate to break it to you, but Chelsea did that a few years ago,” Roy informed her.

“So? Fuck Chelsea.” She was completely grinning now, a sight Roy couldn’t believe was all his to witness, rather than stealing a glimpse of a smile meant for someone else. “We’re fucking Richmond. You guys are, like, perennial underdogs, and we’re a brand-new team led by an American. That’s some fairy tale shit.”

Roy nodded softly. “Fairy tale shit,” he repeated. “I like it.”

Before Roy could do something about the warm feeling in his chest that he hoped she was also having, there was a buzzing noise coming from her pocket. With a frown, she pulled out her mobile, clearing her throat as she glanced at it. Unable to help himself, his eyes flickered to the screen, where he saw fucking George Willows’s name above a text message.

“Guess I finally got a fucking signal out here,” she joked, locking her phone and darkening the screen. She looked back at Roy. “So, fairy tale shit?”

Roy leaned back, putting distance between them again- physical and metaphorical. “It’ll be a good season,” he said bluntly, ending whatever moment he decided was one-sided. “I’m sure your team’ll do fucking fine.” He paused, finger tapping on his bad knee. “D’you need to text fucking Willows back? Set up an interview or some shit?”

This time, the color on her cheeks wasn’t for Roy. “Oh, yeah. He wants to do some profiles on the Whippets, so we’re setting that up.”

Roy let his head fall back against the wall, wondering how hard he’d have to hit it to give himself a concussion. “Shouldn’t you let Keeley deal with the devil? It’s part of her job.”

She sighed. “He’s not the devil. He’s a nice guy. And I don’t mind helping out.” Smile now completely gone, she frowned at Roy. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you, Kent.”

“No,” he agreed. “Guess you fucking don’t.” He stood as suddenly as his knees would allow, nodding towards the door. “Come on. Let’s just fucking tell Beard we apologized to each other and agreed that ignoring each other is the best course of action.”

“Fine.” She hoisted herself up, slower and more carefully than Roy expected. “Thanks coming up with that idea right now instead of, oh I dunno, an hour ago.”

Not quite looking at Roy, she brushed past him, giving his shoulder a little shove with her own, and threw the door open. Roy stood in the doorway and watched as she walked, not to the campfire, where the sounds of laughter and joking and even singing could be heard, but instead to the coaches’ cabin, her shoulders slumped and head down.

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[theosconfessions]

with scarletts bc on the horizon..i thought i should do a recap of everything that happened in the 4 year time jump we just did to get here. :) theres a lot here so im putting it under a cut.

if youd like to read the stephens from the beginning you can over here:)

if youd like to read the stephens continued you can over here:)

theo had his 65th birthday and dustin is still young and hot. its just the life of a trophy husband.

the twins are now 6 years old. sweet babies. i shouldve put quotes around that. because theyre still kinda assholey. they do have theos genes running through them after all.

robin is in college and yes shes still living at home.

scarlett never went to college.choosing to chase her tiktok presence and now her bachelorette challenge instead. life of a try to be influencer.

as far as theos health..theres been some steps made towards the better.. which we will get into.

theo is your host for scarletts upcoming bachelorette challenge. how dusty feels about that isnt great. and theyve had it out in the time jump and will have it out long after it starts airing.

some wounds do not heal. and dusty is still HURT over theo cheating on him [literally he has that sentiment come up a lot. he cant get over it. makes me sad for him ]

blake and river are still together and still married. they were married before they even graduated highschool. HOWEVER... they did legally separate about one year into college. blaming the distance...but really..they married young and quick and got into something they werent quite ready for. river got back together with isla for a time and blake....well..... did some things that resulted in just a tremendous amount of guilt [even though they were split up ] and thus he got the river tattoo on his ribs. made him feel better? somehow? after a short time apart and never filing for a divorce or even an anullment the boys fell back together during their sophomore year of college. even though the distance was tough they made it through their college years. after river graduated he quickly moved back to tomarang where blake had his apartment since high school. BUT ALSO where he is now 3rd backup quarterback for the local team. yes. backup. we'll get into the strifes of that a little later ;)

THEO FOUND OUT HE HAS MORE CHILDREN. or should i say dustin found out theo has more children. jesus christ. adult children but children nonetheless.

jami took over the strip club entirely. and he is helping out just like he said he would be at dustin and theos.

jami and marlee. DO NOT HAVE ANYMORE KIDS. FOR NOW. yeah!

even though scarletts bc will be going on... the stephens continued will still be posted hand in hand with it .. so we will get into SO MUCH MORE as we move on.

welcome to four years later..and welcome to finding out how many ways love is embarrassing :)