#mini pizza did in fact save me

[yakultii]

I had such a productive afternoon at the library and now I’m sitting in a park eating sushi and strawberries for dinner !! 🍱 🍓💫

[sturn1olo-ffics]

- “ALRIGHT BABY” -

pt. 1 | pt. 2

- Matt Sturniolo (and Chris Sturniolo) x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)

- Warnings: making out, mentions of alcohol, cheating, profanity, use of y/n, I think and hope that’s it!; NOT PROOFREAD

- About: After you and Matt’s little… “bit” in the car last night, you wake up to your worst nightmare. You’ve been asked on a date… by the other triplet.

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Y/N’s POV:

I woke up next to Matt in his bed.

What the fuck happened last night?

I got up and paced the bathroom just outside of his bedroom while all the memories flooded back into my cloudy brain.

How was I gonna tell Nick and Chris?? Did they already know??

I walked into the living room to see Chris sprawled out on the couch, still half asleep.

“Hey y/n! I didn’t know you stayed the night…? I thought Matt took you home.” he questioned.

“Oh I wasn’t feeling too well so he brought me here.” I quickly blurted out.

“Did he put you in my room for the night? I didn’t see you when I came home, but then again I was drunk as fuck and didn’t go down there.” he laughed.

“Yeah, yeah I slept in your bed last night. I hope that’s okay?” I lied straight through my teeth.

“Of course. What kinda question is that? Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner and a movie later?” Chris asked, sitting up from his slumped state.

“Yeah sure! Let me just go get my things and head back home to get changed and… clean…” I laughed.

“Yeah of course. And I was just wondering if this could maybe be like… a me and you kinda thing? Just us?” he stood up with me.

Pausing in my tracks, I didn’t know what to say. I had completely forgotten about how madly in love with Chris I was.

“Sounds good! I’ll be back at 5:00?” I nervously backed away.

“Alright kid see you then.” he walked towards the kitchen as I headed toward-

Wait. Fuck. All my stuff was in Matt’s room. He’s gonna know.

“CHRISSSS COME UP HERE THERES A SPIDER AND MATT ISNT ANSWERING HIS PHONE!!!” Nick screamed, saving me.

Chris left the room and I immediately bursted into Matt’s room, grabbing my things and trying not to make a noise.

“Where are you going pretty girl?” Matt rolled over.

“I gotta get home, left my lights on and I don’t want the power bill to be extremely expensive.” I laughed and walked toward the door.

“Alright baby, text me when you get home.” he mumbled with his morning voice.

Fuck. I’m supposed to still hate him.

4:00pm

I’m finishing my makeup to go hang out with Chris.

I mean, it’s just hanging out right? We always do that, why am I so nervous now?

I finished my makeup, looking flawless.

I decided to do my favorite hairstyle and put on a cute outfit that made me comfortable but still looked nice-casual.

Then I left for the triplets’ house.

5:00pm

“Hey, I’m outside.” I texted Chris.

He came out, looking nice as ever. His perfect hair blowing in the wind and his bright blue eyes shining in the sun’s golden hour.

“Hey” he smiled as he hopped in the passenger seat.

“Hey! What are Nick and Matt up to?” I asked, trying to start a conversation even though my palms were sweating with nerves.

“Oh, you know the usual. Matt’s being a dumbass talking about how you were being so stupid last night. And Nick’s going to hang out with Madi. I told them I was going with Carrington to dinner.” he looked out the window at the golden sun.

“Matt was calling me stupid?” I had only focused in on that part, completely ignoring the fact that he lied to his brothers about where he was going.

“Yeah? He always does?? You’d expect that, I mean, y’all hate each other y/n.” he laughed and turned towards me.

“Yeah of course, just making sure he wasn’t making up LIES about me now.” I laughed nervously, playing it off.

We pulled up to this pizza restaurant that we both love and ate there while talking about old memories and laughing over the music playing in the restaurant.

Then, we pulled up to the mini golf place.

Me and Chris had been here a million times, it was one of our favorite things to do. But for some reason, I was blowing it. Getting 7 swings per hole. Losing by 23.

“Here, let me help you.” he laughed while I struggled hitting the ball in the hole.

Looking into my eyes, we locked eye contact for a split second before he wrapped his hands around mine on the club and guided it toward the ball.

“There you go.” he said, smiling when I hit the ball in.

“Thank you, Chris. I don’t know what’s up with me tonight.” I laughed.

But I did know what was up. I was in love with my best friend, Chris, and I’m on a date-ish thing? with him right now. All while knowing the fact that I made out with his brother last night and we are secretly a thing.

Fuck. I’m so cooked.

We left the mini golf place, hopping into the car, and decided to drive to our favorite lookout spot to see the city.

I parked the car as Chris spoke, “Y/n…?”

“Yeah Chris?” I glanced over.

“This is stupid. But I really can’t resist. Looking at you tonight has made me realize how absolutely down bad I am for you. And all I wanna do is press my lips against yours.” he stared into my eyes with a serious gaze.

Without thinking, I connected our lips.

They moved in sync with each other until I pulled back.

“Chris-” I started before he cut me off by placing his lips back on mine.

Our lips, tongues, bodies, everything moved in sync like we were made for each other.

I grasped his hair with my fists, but couldn’t help but notice how it felt like Matt’s.

Fuck. MATT!

I looked down to my phone buzzing, pausing the best make-out session I had ever had, to see Matt calling me.

“Why is Matt calling you of all people?” he questioned.

“I don’t know, that dumb fuck probably needs to know where the spare key is to my apartment so he can get Nick’s leftovers for him.” I stepped out of the car and answered the phone.

“Hi sweet girl, what are you up to?” Matt said, I could tell he was smiling through the phone.

“Oh nothing, just hanging out with Tara.” I laughed.

Fuck. What am I doing?

“Alright well I was calling to see if I could come over later… after Nick and Chris go to sleep?” he giggled.

“Yes baby, I’ll text you when I get home.” I smiled.

“Why are you whispering?” he questioned.

“Oh- uh Tara’s listening to a voice memo and needs me to be quiet outside the car.”

“…okay…well I’ll let you go then, call me later pretty girl.” he stated.

I jumped back in the car quickly to find Chris scrolling on instagram.

“Hey, sorry, his dumbass couldn’t figure out where the box was that I was telling him to get.” I laughed, trying to play that off. And desperately hoping. Chris did not hear that conversation.

“No baby you’re good.” he smirked, pulling me in for one last, sweet kiss.

“Fuck you’re so hot.” I giggled. Acting as if I don’t think that about his triplet brother.

He laughed in response before tucking my hair behind my ear saying “I’m lucky to have such a sweet girl in my life that I can actually trust. No one is loyal anymore these days. But my sweet girl is.” he gently caressed my arm.

“But, as much as I don’t want this moment to end, I need to get home because I told Matt and Nick I’d be back by 9:30.” he laughed.

I put the car in reverse and drove him back home, hoping no one saw my car before I headed out.

Upon walking into my house, I stood in the doorway to think.

Fuck. I’m two-timing my best friend and his brother.

Wait… I’m two-timing my best friend and his brother…

I smirked before picking up my phone to call Matt.

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A/N: Y’all!!! I actually love where this fic is going omg 🤭🤭 my plans are cooking. I hope y’all are liking this so far! I might turn this into a series but I’m unsure right now. Anyway, send suggestions in my inbox for what you may want to see with this fic (or another fic) in the future! Make sure to check out my guidelines in my pinned post though!! 🤍🤍🤍 Maya

[dnotive]

I dunno if you got anon complaints, but it wasn't me. Here's my wall of text about The Topic At Hand.

I hate Apple because every time I wanted to use my phone to do something in high school, I found out that sorry, you can't do that on an iPhone because we don't like [winzip, flash player, a bunch of other things] and you're not allowed to use programs that don't come from the App Store. Also if you jailbreak your phone so that you CAN use it as a miniature computer, you void your warranty uwu. Also, I had an iPod touch gen 3 that I still use despite it being a bit slow because they absolutely lasted forever. I also got an iPod touch 6 that died a long time ago, but before it did, the iPod/Phone 7 had been released and Apple had figured out that if they push an update that makes the old tech slow, people will go "ugh, this is so slow, I should get a new one".

When they released the iPad with the same issues as the early gen phones + also no USB port and I was like "why are people buying this instead of literally any other tablet?" but people acted like it was a new, innovative, never-before-seen amazing thing when the first iPad really was just a shit tablet you couldn't do much with, but it had an apple logo and angry birds.

We also had both Windows and Macintosh computers at my high school and I never had problems with Windows because it was what I knew, but any time I tried to use the macs, I'd run into all sorts of compatibility issues with files saved on the Windows computers, so I just used my laptop instead. I was also getting into computer nerdery and looking to build my own PC and found out that Macintosh computers come pre-built and if you change literally anything yourself you void your warranty, which pushed me even harder against the company and all of its products. Oh, and the fact that a global standardisation went through that every phone company would use micro USB and Apple weaselled out of it by saying "ah, but we don't sell phones, we sell Personal Mobile Devices." And that they hold patents for things like the liquid metal they use to paint on the logo and even the patent for ROUND PIZZA BOXES and refuse to let anyone else use them just. Because. What a shit company. Anyway.

Nowadays I understand that some people prefer to use Macs for things like graphic design because they're allegedly better at it??? but all I see is compatibility issues for days, overpriced tech that you're not allowed to breathe on without voiding your warranty, and people who fangirl over the company's products because they're 'hip' and for no other reason. Their old products WERE good, which is why old Macs and iPods still sell for a TON of money, but I haven't seen them release a good product in a long-ass time.

Hey that's totally fine.

For the record, in my mind, the part of Apple that makes iphones and ipads is a totally separate entity than the one that makes their computers. You'll get no argument from me about their stupid power adapter debacle.

I've had macbooks for years as my daily-driver computers, but I own literally one iOS product, and that's an old ipad mini wall-mounted in my kitchen for home automation purposes. iOS devices are annoying in my experience, and as such I've only ever had Android mobile devices for daily use.

... and don't get me started on what a shitty-ass product the Apple TV is.

I understand the compatibility and customization argument in precisely the way I understand the cats vs. dogs argument.

If you were raised with dogs and have never been around cats or only tangentially experienced cats, you might point at a cat and go "what is this animal even good for? It doesn't come when I call it. It doesn't respond to its name. You have to scoop out a gross litter box at least twice a week. It doesn't even chase a ball half the time!"

All of which would be correct observations about owning a cat, but if you were to pivot from that to say something like "cats are useless and expensive, and everyone who has one has been tricked by clever marketing and branding to get one" you'd get people looking at you a little funny. We intuitively understand that cats and dogs are fundamentally different pets to experience.

In the same way, if you're a PC user who points at a Mac and says things like you have above, like "You can't even change any components yourself! You can barely play any games with it!" you're making the cardinal mistake of bringing Windows expectations into a Mac world, just as you'd be bringing Dog expectations into a Cat world for being indignant that you can't play fetch with it.

.. by your own admission here, "I never had problems with Windows because it was what I knew"

There is a LOT of crossover between the platforms for day to day tasks (web-browsing, word-processing, using shit like Office 365, doing live-streams, Telegram/Discord, etc. etc.) just as there is a lot of crossover between activities that cats and dogs can do (companionship, snuggling, entertainment, taking cute pictures to send to your mom) but the niche stuff is where things branch off.

I have a purpose-built Windows PC for music production and audio engineering because I needed to configure a custom sound interface and Windows PC's are excellently tailored to customization. Conversely, I use my Macbook for video-editing because MacOS is extremely stable and I can count on one hand how many times it's actually crashed or hung in all the years I've video-edited on it, even though I occasionally have to use a dongle, and can't crack it open myself to put more RAM in it.

In the case of the latter I consider that a worthy trade-off, just as I will gladly trade-off having a pet that won't play fetch with me in exchange for not having to let it outside when the windchill is -20 in the middle of February.

As an aside, also, the MacOS terminal behaves nearly the same way as a Linux terminal, so there are all kinds of hardcore Linux computer geeks who use Macs because the logic underneath the OS is the same. Just this past weekend I used the terminal to disable a couple of annoying security bits so I could install homebrew, WINE and a few other pieces - all called up and installed automatically using nothing more sophisticated than an oldschool text terminal, just like a Unix or Linux machine. Then I used the automator to create a custom executed batch file so I wouldn't have to re-enter terminal commands every time I wanted to call up a specific procedure.

It's why I stopped listening to people who simultaneously complain about MacOS being "too dumbed down" and "too hard to use" in the same breath; it can be just as complex and nerdy as you want it to be, and it can be just as streamlined as anything else if you really want it to be. Sitting on top of "fancy Unix" also means it's crazy stable.

... so for me at least, it has nothing to do with being "hip" - I have a hardcover case on my macbook so you can't even tell what it is anyway unless I open it up - and everything to do with being a good old-fashioned pragmatist.

[andstilliam]

been feeling crappy all around lately-- even the walks aren't cutting it so i got up this morning for a quick early run and that helped. i treated myself to a cappuccino this morning as i ran some errands. i'm still not done. need a couple more things i'll get later on tonight.

seriously, i can't stop buying food again. i wanted cheesy crust pizza so i bought the frozen kind, cut it up and put it in a large freezer bag. i also bought boneless sole fillets, a pack of them for $10 so then of course i had to buy tartar sauce to go with it. :P

it's normal to buy food, but have never bought this much when i wasn't b/p let alone condiments like this but that's because i was never much of a condiments person just because i didn't really think about it. i've grown in my cooking so much :) i was more like stocking up on club packs of chicken thighs and things that i liked but always lacked variety. i've just got so much now. it's awesome. and i like that it lasts me. "normal" people will go through that pizza box with a friend or maybe by themselves idk like in one sitting whereas i know that it will last me quite a while, same with the mini muffins i bought. i'm definitely not saving money though because of all these condiments i'm purchasing, plus digestive aids, electrolytes... i am not saving money.

i had to return the Ardenes clothing because the flared pants are way too long. i should've just ordered them from Aerie because they have my size in short, so you can order the length that's suitable for my size. i also didn't like the sweater. i'm just gonna get my Aerie and Lululemon like i want lol. i've got 2 more items from Ardenes in transit and i'll see if i like those.

but really, my next big shopping trip will be value village because i've 60% off due to my big donations :) so that'll be cool. i'll do that next semester i think when i need warmer clothes. i'm good for winter atm. of course i purchased a bunch of shorts when i got to omaha but they were already oversized. some are so ridiculously big that it doesn't even look good with a belt, but some can hang on my hips though instead of my waist so it can actually look kinda nice, so i'll keep them for now.

the hips thing is like so hard for me to grasp lol because i don't think i ever really had big hips. i think i was just bloated. i never had big hips and i think that my hips now definitely grew but idk, i guess time will tell. i believe that they did, alongside my legs and like every other body part. nah it's so weird and icky how growing just like doesn't stop because i swear i grew after age 25. when i was like 20, i could still fit into kids shoes and obviously i can't now. i think someone said online that a lot of undergrads must have eating disorders because they're so small and it's like nahhhh i think they're just still growing. it's not abnormal to look like that. it's the mid 20s that you see change everywhere.... it's true that some are bigger from a younger age and so it seems they don't change very much. but most people get bigger later on just because that's how it works. but yeah, it still feels very hard to tell with me because i have definitely increased in muscle mass over the years and lost fat but the water retention that i go through displays a different story. it's impossible to tell until that's lost/ or managed. that's why i take a water pill daily now. i don't know what difference that makes but when i do actually get healthcare, i know for a fact that i should be prescribed diuretics for my kidney disorder because the fluctuations are absolutely insane for me and i'm glad it was discovered because it never made sense to me. i know myself and i just don't eat that much and that consistently to warrant such a massive increase on the scale especially if you take my gut issues into account. many, many times i will not be consistent because my stomach just doesn't let that happen, so it's like, in light of that, it's even more nonsensical. but at least i know some extent of it and i can try and prevent it the way i know how. if i could eat freely, i would, but it always hurts to. and now that i feel that i have evidence of such, it's like i can't keep making the same mistakes. some people just can't eat that much without pharmaceuticals. and i don't want to overexercise to be able to eat that much physically because the portions are still too big and it will be very bad when i stop because no one can sustain overexertion forever, not to mention with health issues. so i'm pretty confident that i now have the awareness and the ability to apply changes that will prolong this 'way of life' if you will. it's really unfortunate the amount of suffering that i had to go through to reach this point and when i think about it, it's just like, it's so crazy to me because if the goal was enduring anorexia, why didn't you just treat the real problem earlier so i could've gotten here quicker? make it make sense...... so that's been my thought process recently. but anyway, it all lead me to this moment, so. unfortunately the only way for most of us to learn is to go through with it. and most adolescents who go through this enduring anorexia, upon reflection, it just looks like these parents have a lot to do with keeping their kids sick. some kids, they know nothing about cico. i didn't even have the capacity to learn that until i was 25. so like, i don't even think these kids really had that much knowledge or awareness. so essentially, adult AN is an entirely different wavelength. i just feel like my life has been a waste and i'm really insecure about my age. i know that i'm young but also like, my biological clock, you know. and it's just sad to me because i don't have the same life as some of the others and i think a lot of that is because of having been unwell past mid adolescent age but that's just a guess.

being aware of everything is definitely creating some of the best enduring anorexics. that's what happens when you realize nobody's fighting with you, but against you. we all operate from the lens of people helping us to fight our demons, that fighting the demon is the goal. apparently, it's not.

[crimsonblackrose]

.

I knew Johnny taught the students how to get out of a choke hold when Kreese was there, I forgot he did it with Miguel before he had any other students. He truly made sure that was an early lesson for everyone.

It's also cute that he teaches it via giving it a name so that Miguel doesn't forget. What does a cobra do when it's got an arm around it's neck? Slither.

I always wait for Miguel's hit to the head/ear to be a fake out for him to knock Johnny down and instead it's just a big ow.

"it's five o'clock twilight is upon us." "Love is here to Namaste"

The dojo keeps moving, now it's on Victory Boulevard.

Shannon: I can't get that kid to do anything, not even go to school. Robby: Hi mom I got the frozen pizzas you like from Vons.

Mean texts make sense but mean e-mails? How old are these teens?

I love how Aisha just lights up after Johnny listens to her and gives her a solution. Even if maybe it's not the best one.

Daniel's office.

Sometimes I wonder about a route where Daniel successfully buys the strip mall. Like what would he even do with it? Just jack up Johnny's rent only rather than everyone's?

Aisha being the "girl's a natural cobra' is my fav.

The guy who runs the mini mart has run it for 10 years. Armand also doubles the rent which is ridiculous. But also it shows that mini mart guy and Johnny no longer truly hate each other.

Lyle being willing to give Johnny $10 for the Atari even though his own rent went up is 1. kind and 2. shows that Johnny hasn't met Lyle before this point as like a strip mall neighbor.

The coins are kind of sad, it shows that Johnny was saving those in hopes that it'd be fall back money, not knowing they weren't worth much at all. Which I think probably was a trick a lot of people fell for with those coins.

Daniel showing up to see Johnny's reaction to his rent going up is such a...messed up choice.

I love that Amanda goes straight to Daniel started a war with Tom Cole, not messed with Johnny's financial livelihood and that of an entire strip malls.

Amanda is 100% right. I also love her solutions are like acupuncture and cross country motorcycle trip. Daniel and the surviving cobras motorcycle trip when?

The fact the cafeteria staff just watched and didn't do anything for the fight. lol. Also a bit unfair that counselor Blatt just grabbed Miguel and not like all of them.

Robby going to see his dad and seeing his dad hugging Miguel and then immediately giving up on his dad feels like such a bad soap opera choice. Clearly you can hear Miguel say sensei. And if another kid is giving your dad a hug, maybe think ah, Miguel got to be a test run so he can actually maybe take care of me now. But nope. Gotta do soap opera.

It's kind of weird now that I think about it that Mr. Miyagi is buried by himself. Not near his wife and son. I don't know what happened to the bodies of people who died in Manzanar but you'd think Mr. Miyagi would've wanted them nearby.

Do you think Daniel dug up Mr. Miyagi's bonsai again and that's the several thousand dollar bonsai planted at his grave?

Some of the stuff in storage Daniel is removing are literally baby toys. Why are you holding onto that still Daniel?

[popowerst]

What am I celebrating on Father's Day?

Thanks for covering some of my living expenses while I lived with you.

Thanks for making sure I always had something to eat and clean water to drink.

Thanks for providing a room for me in your home.

Thanks for the the anxiety and depression.

Thanks for what is probably ADHD. Thanks for telling me you suspected you had it too, but only when it got so bad I started talking to my doctor about it. I was 25 years old.

Thanks for the child abuse. Thanks for hitting me, locking me out of the house, and throwing my books at me. Thanks for throwing open my door and screaming at me at random times of the day any time to scare me.

Thanks for being emotionally unavailable. Whenever Mom and I would get into an argument, she would always threaten me "just wait until you dad gets home." Not because you would mediate between the two of us, find common ground, and help us reach a compromise. No. You would come into my room, tell me to stop arguing with my mother, she's right and I'm the kid so I need to listen to her, you would ground me for weeks for having an argument in the first place.

By the way, thanks for pushing me so hard academically. I did really well in school, so it'll be funny if I find out I really did have ADHD all this time. You used to ground me if I left the honor roll list, or brought home so much as a C average in any class until around my Junior year of high school or so. I love when y'all were still treating me like I didn't understand anything when I started taking college-level courses in 10th grade. Somehow I was able to keep a part-time job- because I had to in order to pay my bills- and take 6 AP classes my senior year and still managed to stay on honor roll. Were you proud of me? You certainly didn't show it if you were. At least you came to graduation? You are the participation award of fathers.

You never even wanted to participate in my hobbies. My very few extracurriculars. I could probably count on one hand the number of plays you came to see. You didn't care- you weren't interested. It had nothing to do with supporting me, it would be boring to you so you wouldn't go.

Thanks for making me stay as quiet as possible while at home. Couldn't even practice my recorder in elementary school because it was "too loud." Yet you would watch movies in the living room with the bass booming.

Thank you for making me start working during the summer when I was in high school. I really appreciate the leg up it gave me work-ethic wise over my peers, and who wouldn't want a part-time job at a pizza place? What I didn't like was how you both then started pushing bills on to me when I should've been saving for college- which you never helped with. Picking up something like my phone bill was fine and a good way to teach responsible money habits.

But then you started charging me rent. A third of the total house expenses as a matter of fact. $500 a month, for: one 10 x 10 bedroom, right next to yours, that I was constantly berated for being too loud in, with a shared bathroom. The living room was for you guys. The other two bedrooms and the converted garage connected to the laundry room with the half bath were all used for storage, because you and Mom are both hoarders. You also put me in charge of my own food purchases, to be kept in a mini fridge in my bedroom. There was no room in the fridge or freezer- you keep it loaded with junk. I also had limited kitchen access, not that I knew how to cook anyway. Thank God I had been staying at my girlfriend's place and her mom took pity on me- she allowed me to store frozen foods in their freezer, where they somehow made enough space for me to keep a few things, despite having twice as many people in the house. They also helped me afford a car. And a lot of other important things. I married her daughter. It ended up being one of the best decisions I've ever made.

I am not a materialistic person, so I don't hold this as much against you as much I am just generally appreciative of them, but you weren't financially prepared to raise a child, were you? There were no savings. No help. I was supposed to go out into the world and start from scratch at the age of 17. Full time job and full time student balanced right out of high school. That's cool and all. But that doesn't strike me as something a loving, caring, thoughtful father would do. No, you opened up a joint account with your crusty bank because I almost traveled across the country to go to college, and when I was out of town and the rent was due, you sent me a text saying you knew I could pay it because you checked my account and I had enough. You transferred the money without asking when I was hundreds of miles from home, and all I can say is I'm grateful my best friend's parents were generous and kind to me, because I'm not sure how I would've gotten food that week without them.

I think about you a lot. I want to forgive you. I'm sure you feel these emotions too. You don't understand how to express them. Your generation looked down upon people who need therapy. I know you have unresolved trauma that nobody else knows about but mom and my grandmother. I know your dad left you at a young age. He's shitty and I know life was harder for you as a result. Honestly sometimes seeing how he turned out makes me wonder whether that was for better or worse. The boyfriend that came after him was pretty bad too. From what I've heard, he was just straight up abusive and I can only imagine the effect that had on you. Either way you deserved to have a father figure. Is it selfish for me to say that?

Thanks for keeping my sister a secret from me for years. I still don't know her name. Maybe I'll meet her someday. Mom was the one that ended up telling me about her- I think she still resents that you gave another woman a child years before her, doubly so because of the following miscarriages. Good on you for paying child support. However, this is where I really get upset.

Did you really not have enough self awareness to realize the damage that you can cause by putting a woman and a child in that kind of position? I would think that you, out of all people, would understand the kinds of difficulties that a father walking out of a family would cause. You idiot. Are you absolutely clueless? How could you live your whole life, feel all the ways that you do, meet a woman, get her pregnant, and think that the right role model to follow in this instance was your father? Did you learn nothing?

But coming at you from this angle won't help at all. This would just make you upset. You shut down, stop listening. You want the patience that you never gave.

I think that you once thought I hated you or that I wanted you dead. That's not true. I love you. Deep down I want to have a relationship with you. I mourn the lack of connection and that's why it's so sour when I see you for a couple of hours every few months. Seeing you is like seeing a grumpy old friend. You don't text, you don't call. You do not know how to make someone feel loved. You never learned that skill.

It's agonizing to have to sit and pretend that everything is okay. It's very damaging to my mental health. But how do I even begin to talk about any of this with you? Again you have no communication skills. I have just begun to develop my own, and I had to do it independently of you. Unfortunately Mom didn't help much either. She's another story entirely.

I feel guilty that I even have these feelings about you. Some people don't even know their dads. A lot of people have it way worse than me. I'm just complaining. But I deserve to complain every once in a while.

I don't know where to go from here. Every time I see you, I have to look you in the eye and act like everything is okay. I keep hoping one of these days I'll get a call from you. A text message. Maybe you'll find my email address somewhere. I want you to open up this conversation. I don't know how to bring it up. Maybe I'll figure it out in therapy. Haven't told y'all that I mostly talk about you when I go.

I remember when I told you I started going. The only thing you said was "therapy's really expensive." And you're right, it is. But this cycle of generational trauma stops with me. You always told me I knew better, that I was too smart to be lazy and I wasn't applying myself. Well here you go. I used my resources to figure out why all the men in my family are awful people, develop the skills necessary to balance those weaknesses, and lay plans for the future that include financial stability, effective communication, mutual respect, and loving my family so much that nobody can deny it.

If you get your act together, I might let you meet your grandkids. Happy Father's Day.

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Bring It On Home

Summary: After one of her regular customers catches her boss stealing her tips, the reader gets a job from Jensen. She figures he’s just being a nice guy but after a run in with a stranger they both learn exactly what they really are to one another...

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader

Word Count: 10,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of death/drug use/smut/scary situations, fluff

A/N: Felt like putting a little spin on this one! Enjoy!

______

“Mr. Ackles,” you smirked as he wandered up to the counter with a big smile. “I thought you told me not to sell you anymore donuts. I thought you were slimming down for your next role.”

“Oh, I never said such a thing,” he smirked. “You got any of those maple cinnamon creme filled ones left?”

“Looks like we got one left,” you said. He set his starbucks cup and sunglasses down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a butterscotch for De and a dozen of the minis for the kiddos,” he said.

“Anything in particular?” you asked as you started to put together his order.

“Surprise me,” he said.

“I’ll go with glazed and chocolate to be safe,” you said. You set the bag and box down, ringing him up. “Oh and I gotta say, I really liked the new album. You guys were really good.”

“Well thank you very much, Y/N,” he smiled. He stuffed a big tip in the jar like he always did and you gave him a look. “Oh I know you saved that donut for me. Don’t pretend.”

“The fact you come in here every single Thursday at 10:07 in the morning when you’re not working and order the same donut every single time? Oh I don’t know who thought to do that,” you said. 

“Mhm. See ya next week, kid,” he said as he headed out.

“Bye, Mr. Ackles,” you said. You saw your manager give you a side eye and you pouted.

“I thought I told you to stop bothering him,” she said.

“He’s nice. It’s a small place. He comes in every week,” you said. She took the money out of the tip jar and shoved it in her pockets. You sighed and heard the door open again, Jensen shaking his head.

“Sorry, left my sunglasses,” he said. He picked them up and paused, staring at the jar. “I just put twenty dollars in there.”

You looked at your manager and she pretended to have to go sign for something. You wiped down the counter and saw him still standing there.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked. You straightened up and his lip was pursed. 

“Does your boss take your tips?” he asked.

“We pool tips here, Mr. Ackles. You know that,” you said.

“Yeah but you make minimum wage. She doesn’t. Does your boss take a cut of the tips?” he asked. You didn’t say anything but apparently you did. He grumbled and pulled out a twenty, sliding it across the counter. “That’s yours, not hers. While I’m at it, I’m gonna say what I’ve been thinking for like, the entire time you’ve waited on me and just go to school. You are way too smart to be working a job like this the rest of your life.”

“Mr. Ackles you don’t-”

“You don’t ring people up. You do the math in your head. You always give me a total before it pops up on the screen. You got a brain. Use it for something better than this, kid,” he said. 

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to do that,” you said. 

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty two,” you said.

“You got a car?” he asked.

“Yeah?” you said.

“Congratulations. You’re the newest bartender at my brewery. Starts at fifteen bucks an hour,” he said.

“Is that in the morning?” you asked. 

“It’s probably evenings, afternoons. Why?” he asked. 

“I have another job,” you said. “I can’t work later than noon.”

“You can work in the brewery in the morning then. We got a deal?” he asked. You nodded and he pulled a card out of his wallet. “Call me when you’re done with work today and we’ll get you set up, okay?”

“Thank you. This is gonna help so much,” you said. He smiled and nodded. 

“Just hang in there for now. It’ll get better.”

Three Weeks Later

“Good morning,” you heard as you dropped a sack on the floor. You were panting and sweaty, Jensen smiling as he saw you. “Whoa, what are you doing moving those by yourself.”

“My boss said they need to get moved. I was getting started without him was all,” you said.

“Okay your boss is my business partner so I’m like your boss too and no we do not move seventy pound bags by ourselves, understand?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your hand over your face. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “It’s just a bag on the floor.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to screw this up,” you said. “I really need the money.”

“Well relax. It’s only your second week,” he said. You nodded and he squatted down, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. He walked it over to where they were being moved and tossed it down. “Come here.”

You scurried over and he crossed his arms, looking back at the pallet of raw hops and the bag by his feet.

“Figure out how to make this more efficient,” he said.

“What?”

“I didn’t hire you because I felt sorry for you and I didn’t do it because you’re stronger than the grown men here. You got a brain and I want you to use it. Figure out a way to make this process better. Tell your boss when you got something,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said.

“None of that sir shit, kid. Just Jensen, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked away, a pit forming in your stomach. You were so getting fired. You should have just sucked it up and stayed at the donut shop. You’d quit there and your pizza shop job went away when they closed up last week. You knew you could squeak by until you found another part time job. “Jensen?”

He spun around halfway across the room and you swallowed.

“I’m available in the evenings now. I can bartend too if you still need that,” you said.

“I can give you two shifts a week. Same pay. That work?” he asked.

“Yes that’s great,” you said.

“Good. Figure out the bags, Y/N,” he said before he went off. You felt a little better at least. You stared at the bags and pallet, trying to figure out the best way to get the bags over with all of the equipment in the way.

One Hour Later

“So you figured it out,” said Jensen with a knowing smile after you’d told him about your idea to use the forklift to drive around outside and then back in through the other smaller door to bring the bags over to the other side of the equipment. “Took a little longer than I was expecting.”

You frowned and he chuckled.

“Relax. It was a test,” he said.

“A test?” you said and he hummed. “For what?”

“I think your talents would be better suited for stocking management at the moment. You’re gonna track orders as they come in, manage storage, help the workflow stay on track. Sound good?” he asked.

“Yes. Definitely,” you said.

“People are around to help but I think you’ll do just fine,” he said. “I gotta run. Don’t forget to take a lunch break at some point.”

“Jensen. Thanks for the job. Really,” you said.

“You go to college and then you can thank me,” he said. “See you around, kid.”

One Month Later

“Mmm,” you hummed at the end of your shift tending bar. You were sipping on a can of beer and eating a slice of pizza on the quiet patio, a few people finishing up with their drinks before the place closed up for the night.

“Excuse me,” said an older man, probably in his fifties. You stopped mid-chew and he put on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. You just look a lot like someone I know. Well I didn’t know her but…”

“Howdy,” said Jensen as he wandered out from the taproom. It wasn’t lost on anyone how he put himself between you and the man. “Enjoying your night sir?”

“Yes. I was just chatting to the young lady here. I thought I knew her from somewhere…” he trailed off. Jensen looked back at you and you swallowed down the pizza in your mouth.

“She must have one of those faces,” he said. “We’re closing up for the night soon sir.”

“I’m not trying to bother her,” he said.

“I know you’re not,” said Jensen. The man didn’t leave though and he stiffened up. “Sir. The young lady doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t know you. Please return to your table.”

“I do know her though,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” you said. 

“Y/N, go inside,” said Jensen. 

“Okay, this is a very awkward situation. But I need to talk to her in private,” said the man. Jensen chuckled but you heard the dark edge to it.

“I need you to leave,” said Jensen.

“I’m a cop.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Easter bunny. You are making my employee uncomfortable,” said Jensen. The man stared at him and then you. Jensen grabbed your arm and started walking inside with you when the man grabbed your hand. “Get your fucking hands off-”

“Y/N, I know your mom,” he said. Jensen kept pulling on you but you shook him off.

“You’re a cop?” you asked as he nodded.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you,” he said.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jensen.

“Y/N, sweetie, we need to call up the Dallas police department right now. There are things you need to know.”

“Things like what?”

Four Hours Later

“Hey kid,” said Jensen as you sat at a conference table in a police station. You stared blankly at the shut file, Jensen setting a candy bar down in front of you. “Didn’t know if you were a chocolate kinda chick.”

“Thank you Jensen,” you said quietly. You didn’t touch it and he bumped your arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Thank you for coming with me to the station and staying. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah well no offense but I was serious about what I said. I wasn’t leaving you alone with some random dude,” he said. “Eat something.”

“I thought I had shitty parents before,” you laughed. “Turns out they fucking killed my mom and took her toddler and pretended I was theirs. What the fuck.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know how you remotely feel right now,” he said. “It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.”

“I know,” you said as a detective came in. 

“Y/N, this is the file we worked up on your mom,” he said. He opened a page and you saw Jensen stand out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s her mother?” he said. 

“Abigail Leandry? Yes,” said the detective. Jensen shook his head. “Mr. Ackles, what-”

“Kayla. Kayla,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles, why do you know the deceased’s middle name?” asked the detective. Jensen was practically white now and you stood up, holding onto him.

“Did you know my mom?” you asked. “Jensen, did you know her?”

“Who’s her father?” asked Jensen.

“There’s no father on record. Mr. Ackles are you-” said the detective as Jensen ran his hand over his face. “What is your relation to the victim, Mr. Ackles?”

“I had a one night stand when I was twenty years old,” he said as he looked at you. “She said her name was Kayla.”

“What?” you said. The detective looked at the both of you and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I think we need to do a paternity test as soon as possible.”

Two Hours Later

“I…” started Jensen for the fifth time as you sat in his passenger seat. You stared at the dashboard, Jensen opening his mouth again. “Y/N...if I knew…”

“I know,” you said. “Can you drive me back to my car now. I want to go home. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s after midnight. Why don’t I drop you off and we can swing by to get your car in the morning,” he said.

“Whatever.” You rested your head on the glass and shut your eyes. He started the truck but it didn’t move.

“We used protection. I wasn’t…” he said.

“It’s not a guarantee. Dude, you’re my dad. Whatever. Just take me home. Please,” you said.

“Where do you live,” he asked quietly. You gave him the address and twenty minutes later you were outside of your apartment, Jensen looking around. You put a hand on the door and he sighed. “Wait.”

“Jensen, I’m tired.”

“I know. I’m about to have a very fun time telling my wife about this. I just...this is not a safe neighborhood for a young woman to live alone in,” he said. “There’s stabbings and shootings around here all the time.”

“I grew up with methhead parents. That was kind of par for the course,” you said. 

“I’m a stranger. I understand. Would you consider…” he said and you opened the door.

“I’m fine, Jensen. Go home. You have a long night still,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said. You hummed and he leaned over. “Wait. Can I have your number?”

You gave him your phone and he put yours in his before putting his in yours and handing it back.

“Hey,” he said as you started to head inside. You groaned and turned around. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Goodnight, Jensen,” you said. You went inside your unit before he could say anything else and locked the door shut. You wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, nothing in there but a six pack of beer from the brewery. You shook your head and looked in the cabinet, half a bottle of vodka still there. You took it out and poured yourself a glass, wincing as you drank it down.

Maybe you’d be lucky enough to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a nightmare.

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you started work the next morning. You saw Danneel talking with her brother across the room, both of them glancing at you. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and he wandered out back to the employee area, taking a seat at a picnic table. You sat across from him, Jensen bouncing his leg like crazy.

“I thought I should at least tell you...I met Kayla at a club when I was twenty. I was home visiting family and went out with some friends. She was from Houston. We talked, flirted a bit, she was...forward with what she was interested in and being young and stupid like I was, I felt as though I should have at least one one-night stand in my life. I wasn’t...comfortable with it at first but it happened. We used protection and I left and I never really thought of her ever again. Until now obviously.”

“What’s your point, Jensen?” you asked. He bit his bottom lip and stilled his leg.

“We both learned some things last night. We know your mom got involved with drugs. We know that’s why she was killed. The people that raised you probably did it. She has no family left. The people that took you weren’t good and they’re dead and you have no family out there, anywhere. I know you were in a group home when you were sixteen after they died. I know you bounced around a bit and wound up in foster care until you aged out last year. I know your home isn’t safe and your car is older than you.”

“Jensen.”

“I’d like the chance to give you a real dad. I’d like to be there for you the way I should have always been. De and I both do. We can give you everything you need or want,” he said. 

“I understand,” you said. He smiled and you rolled your eyes. “This would look horrible for you if it got out that you have some stray, wouldn’t it. Your grand idea is to pay me off?”

“What?” he asked and you stood up. “Y/N, that’s not-”

“I did just fine my whole life without a real dad. I don’t need one now,” you said. You headed back towards the entrance and he caught up to you grabbing your shoulder.

“Stop. Wait a second. I-” he said as you spun around.

“Leave me alone. I shouldn’t even exist. I will do just fine without you like I always have.” You started walking again and headed to your car, sliding behind the wheel before you knew it. You drove home and sat in your apartment, expecting a call that you’d been fired.

Five minutes after being home you heard a car pull up out front. The doorbell rang and you ignored it. A text came in on your phone which you also promptly ignored.

“Y/N. It’s Jensen,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Kid, I...we don’t gotta be the fucking Brady Bunch. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me try. I’ll do all the work, I swear. I just...I just gotta know you’re okay. I know you’re not. This is so fucked up. You should have had a better life. You should have had me. I would have stopped you from living through all the shit you have. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

You stared at the door and pursed your lips.

“I want to know my daughter. I want to be part of her life. I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said. “Let me give you what you deserve.”

You walked over and slowly opened the door, Jensen wearing a worried smile.

“I’m not calling you dad.”

“You don’t have to,” he chuckled. “Can I come in?”

You swung the door open wider and he stepped past you, pausing in the hall as you closed up behind him.

“You live here?” he asked.

“No, I stay here for shits and giggles. Yes I live here,” you said. He stepped past the kitchen and into your family room where you took a seat on the old couch, Jensen spinning around. “Yeah, it’s shitty. I get it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s in violation of health codes,” he said. He took a seat on the couch and made a face. “Can I push my luck and convince you to move out of here?”

“I don’t need charity, Jensen. You’ve given me enough already,” you said. 

“Parents put a roof over their kids' heads. I’m a few years late so sue me but we gotta get you somewhere better than this,” he said.

“I drink. I swear. I walk around in my underwear and I have adult friends sleepover so there’s no way in hell I’m moving in with you.”

“I have a guest house,” he said. “It’s private. You’re not a child and I’ll do my best to not treat you like one. But it’s safe and nice and you can have your own space...just forty feet from where I live is all.”

You crossed your arms and he put on a pair of sad eyes.

“You’re milking it a bit don’t you think,” you said.

“I’m not acting,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I’ll give you money for food and gas and pay for the rest if you don’t want to talk to me. Just give me this. Let me get you out of this shithole.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“I didn’t say I was going to save you. I want to protect you. There’s a difference.”

He set a hand on his leg, turning it palm up. You watched it and after a moment set your hand in his.

“Don’t fuck me over,” you said.

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Why don’t we run to the store to get some boxes and we can pack up your stuff?”

An hour later you were following Jensen in your car down the driveway of a very nice house. You parked behind him and got out, staring at it and the yard and turning your head to see the multiple cars in his garage.

“Y/N,” said Jensen. He was standing closer, giving you a smile. “We can move the boxes in a minute. Why don’t I show you the guest house first?”

“Okay,” you said. You followed him around a path that went behind the garage, a two story building back there.

“It’s only one bedroom. But it’s got it’s own office on the first floor,” he said. “It’s not that big. You can always stay in the house with the rest of us if you change your mind but I understand wanting your privacy.”

He unlocked the door and you stepped inside, Jensen mentioning something about dust but you were still floored by how nice it was. The kitchen was beautiful and open to the family room. The large wood dining table sat in a cute breakfast nook. There was a fireplace and big windows with a staircase in the back heading up to a second floor.

“...I know it’s a bit plain,” he said and you turned your head, Jensen smiling back at him. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you.”

“This is too nice. Jensen this is way too nice. I gotta pay you rent for-” you said but he shook his head. “Jensen.”

“I have some contingencies for you staying here. You follow those and I’ll pay for this place and your food and gas. Okay?” he asked.

“What are they?” you asked.

“No big parties. You want to have something small that’s fine but no big blowouts,” he said.

“Do I look like I have a lot of friends?” you asked. 

“I want you to go to school. You can keep your job at the brewery but you’re gonna go to school. I will pay for it but I want you to have an education.”

You pursed your lips but nodded.

“I’m getting you a new car, one much safer. Lastly, if you see the kids, please try not to swear in front of them. They’re young and we do our best to not do that around them,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “Don’t expect me to start having big family dinners or that kind of thing.”

“I understand. I’ll move the boxes and um, maybe you can make up a list of things you need for me to get at the store.”

“I have everything I need in the boxes,” you said.

“You have one pan and like three plates,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked. 

“Y/N, that’s not normal.”

“You realize this isn’t normal right?” you said as you looked around. 

“If you change your mind...I’m gonna get your things, let you unpack,” he said. He left and ten minutes later you had four boxes by the door, Jensen excusing himself away. You unpacked your kitchen items, knowing he might have had a point. But he was buying absolutely everything for you and it was a little ridiculous. 

You took your bag of clothes upstairs, swallowing when you saw the bedroom and bathroom up there. It was like it was out of a magazine. There was even a small balcony off the room. You stepped out and looked around at a yard and saw a pool off in the distance. 

There was no way in Hell you belonged in a place like that.

That Evening

You were cooking dinner for yourself with the over abundance of groceries Jensen had left at the door earlier when you heard a knock. You moved the pan off the heat and opened up, Jensen standing there with a smile.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“We’re about to have dinner if you’d like to join us,” he said. 

“You said I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”

“I know. I just wanted to offer. It’s your first...are you cooking?” he asked as he saw into the kitchen.

“Yes. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” you said. 

“I literally just gave you some extra pantry staples for the night before I can run to the store in the morning. You’re making dinner out of that stuff?” he asked.

“Yes?” you said. “You gave me pasta and olive oil. I will survive for the night.”

“You’re making pasta in a pan?” he asked.

“Yes. You put water in the pan and put in some pasta. It’s like magic,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said. You shut the door on him and went back to the stove. You stared at the messy pan and turned the stove off. You sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.

He had never, never been anything but nice to you when you were a complete stranger. Of course he was going to go overboard since he found out you were his kid. You were being bitchy for no reason and he was still being nice.

There was a knock at the door but you saw him walk past the window. You got up and opened the door, a large pot sitting on the small bench by the door. He was halfway across the grass and you swallowed.

“Jensen?” you called out. He spun around and smiled.

“Keep it,” he said.

“What...what are you having? For dinner?”

“Pork roast with mashed sweet potatoes and roasted veggies. S’pretty good,” he said. “We got ice cream for dessert.”

You bit your bottom lip and he walked over to you, frowning as he stared down.

“I don’t blame you for not having much faith in people or being cautious of me. I really don’t. But I am your dad and you are my daughter. To you that means nothing. I understand. But you’re one of the most important things in my life now. It can be one sided if you want that. It can be that simple if you want that. Like I said, you can ignore me the rest of my life if you want and I would never blame you. But I can give you more than a place to stay and money. There’s shit a lot more important than those things. You can have it if you want it. Just come on inside if you decide you do.”

You crossed your arms and looked down. He didn’t leave yet and you took a few deep breaths.

“I’ve never really trusted anyone before,” you said. “I’m not...I do want a family, Jensen. I do. But my life isn’t like this. I dropped out of high school and got a GED. I have hookups most nights. I’m probably going to get pregnant, marry the guy, have another kid, get divorced, live in a small old apartment while working two jobs and that’s my life. That’s gonna be life, Jensen. I’ve known that’s gonna be my life since I was a kid. I don’t have goals or dreams. I’m just here because you feel guilty and I can take advantage of that right now. I’m gonna push back and push back until you throw me out or I leave because I’m not gonna trust you. I’m never going to trust you, Jensen. You don’t have to feel bad about this situation. You don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’m not supposed to even be here. I think it’s better if you just gave me some money and I’ll leave and you never have to think about me ever again.”

“I’m gonna think about you everyday for the rest of my life,” he said. “You deserve a better life than what you described. You deserve a good job and to fall in love and have children because you want to. I want you, Y/N not out of guilt. I only feel guilty I wasn’t there for you. I want you because you’re my daughter and I love you. It’s all there is to it.”

You sighed and heard thunder in the distance. 

“You can stay in the house. You can live with us. We’d love it if you did,” he said. You looked back at the guest house. For the first time you noticed the bags of concrete stacked up on the side. 

“You were gonna tear it down, weren’t you,” you said.

“We didn’t need it. It was gonna be an extra garage space. But that’s-”

“Will I have my own room?” you asked quietly. “In the house.”

“Yes. Your own room, bathroom, big closet. Your own part of the house.”

“...How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you asked.

“You don’t. Have dinner with us. Talk to your siblings. Maybe they can give you some insight,” he said. You walked past him as a light rain came down, Jensen showing you in the back door and up a set of stairs. There were a pair of toddlers at a table, an older girl in the kitchen with Danneel as they dished up some plates. “Y/N’s going to join us.”

“That’s great,” said Danneel as she handed the girl a plate. “JJ, would you give that to Y/N and get her some silverware?”

“Sure,” she said. She walked over to you and you took the plate. “Are you mom and dad’s friend?”

“She’s your sister,” said Jensen as he helped in the kitchen. He put down a glass at an empty chair and you took a seat, JJ returning quickly with a fork and knife.

“You’re kinda old,” she said as she set them down.

“You’re kinda short,” you said.

“Am not,” she said as she went to her seat.

“Yeah you are,” said the littlest girl. Jensen had brought her in to get donuts a few times and you saw her recognize you. “Hi!”

“Hi Arrow,” you said with a smile.

“JJ, Arrow, Zepp,” said Jensen as he leaned over the back of her chair and poured a glass of water for you from the carafe. “This is Y/N and she’s gonna be around quite a bit more we hope.”

“Okay. Who’s your favorite princess?” asked Arrow. 

“Hm. That’s a tough one. I don’t know if she qualifies as a princess but I always liked Rapunzel,” you said as Jensen and Danneel carried over their plates. “Who’s your favorite?”

An hour later you were still discussing Disney characters with the kids, Jensen scooping up the twins under each arm.

“Daddy,” groaned Zeppelin as he was spun upside down. “We were playing.”

“You two and your sister need baths, stinkers, and then a bedtime story. How’s that sound?” he asked.

“Can Y/N read it?” he asked as he looked at you. 

“Sure,” you said.

“Yay!” he said.

“We’ll be about half an hour with these guys. If you want to come up I can show you your space,” said Jensen. You nodded and followed them all upstairs. Danneel went off with JJ down a hall, Jensen nodding towards one end. “That’s me and De over there. Kids are down that hall and the guest suite and loft is to the right.”

“Thanks,” you said. You wandered down the hall and found a large open space with a couch and TV, more of an adult hang out space from the looks of it. There was a door nearby and you opened it, walking into a large bedroom with a canopy bed. “Holy shit.”

It was nicer than the guest house and you walked around, stepping into a beautiful on suite bathroom with double vanities, a separate shower and a giant ass tub. The walk in closet was huge and you were absolutely in love with the wide window bench and bookcases.

“Hey,” said Jensen behind you. You spun around and saw him sporting a partially wet shirt. “You like it?”

“It’s warm,” you said. 

“Well feel free to move some clothes and stuff in for the night. There’s a few raincoats in the front hall closet downstairs. I gotta try and get these three washed before the storm hits,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” you said. He smiled and started to leave when you took a step forward. “Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about before, how I acted and what I said. No one’s ever taken care of me and not wanted something in return,” you said. 

“Apology accepted. All I will ever want is you to be happy. We’ll get there eventually,” he said. He left and after exploring the room for a few more minutes, you took a raincoat from the front closet and went outside, packing up most of your things and bringing them up to your new room. You’d just set a box down when a toddler in a pair up pull ups ran into your room.

“Y/N, can I have a story now?” asked Zeppelin. 

“Zepp...Zeppy…” you heard Jensen call from somewhere else. 

“You wanna show me your room and then I can tell you a story?” you asked. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out, Jensen sighing as he found you in the hall. “I got him.”

“Well someone needs his pajamas on,” said Jensen. Zeppelin grumbled but he did tug on his shirt at least once you were in his room. Jensen tugged his pants on and Zeppelin rushed over to his bookcase, picking out one and handing it to you. He crawled up in bed and you sat on the stool nearby, reading and showing him the pages for about ten minutes before you watched him close his eyes and huff quietly.

“Night, little guy,” you said. You put the book on his nightstand and set the stool back. Jensen smiled and flicked the light off by the door, a nightlight keeping the space dimly lit. He shut the door and you were quiet as you saw Danneel duck out of a room. He nodded and you followed the two of them to the loft area, taking a seat on the end of the couch as he settled into a chair, Danneel sitting close by.

“I think Zepp’s a fan,” she said with a smile. “I think they all are.”

“Kids don’t tend to be the problem in these situations,” you said. You looked at her and she nodded. “Are you...okay-”

“I would much rather have you stay in this house than out there by yourself. You’ve been on your own enough,” she said. 

“What was your reaction?” you asked as you quickly glanced to Jensen.

“A bit of shock. But I saw the test results and he has…” she said, Jensen nodding. “He mentioned once when you first started working at the brewery about feeling protective of you. We both assumed it was because you were young and on your own and trying to get by. I’ve never been quite that bad but when he first started out after he left home, things were tight for him. We understand struggling a bit. Not to the same extent as you obviously but we get it. Now with what you know, I think there was some paternal instinct coming out he didn’t quite see.”

“In my experience, parents aren’t good things. My life got better after them,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if he is.”

“All of us will,” said Jensen. “It’ll take time which will be the hard part probably but if you allow us, we can be parents to you too. We won’t make rules for you. You’re an adult and we’ll treat you like one. But we’ll treat you like our child too. De and I will probably screw that up sometimes so all I ask is that you let us slip up from time to time and hopefully this can turn out the way we hope it does.”

“Do I have to go to college?” you asked. Jensen glanced to Danneel and back at you. “I don’t have the best grades and I literally dropped out my senior year. Does a community college even take a GED?”

“I was thinking more like UT,” he said. You laughed and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re serious? I didn’t even take SATs or ACTs or…” you trailed off as you turned to Danneel who shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you scoffed. You gripped the corner of the armchair and he sighed. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” he said as he got up. He squatted down in front of you and smiled. “Don’t be scared. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. That room over there? That is your bedroom now and no one will ever kick you out of it. I don’t want you leaving until you’re ready and I think we all know you’re a long way away from that. I believe you can go to school and do anything you want to. I’ll believe for the both of us right now, okay?”

“I’m too stupid. I don’t fit in aside from with sleazy guys,” you said.

“I disagree with that,” he said. “Trust me?”

You sighed but gave him a nod. 

“I know it’s been a long day and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night but there is a bowl of ice cream downstairs with your name on it if you’re interested,” he said. 

“Maybe. I’d like to wash up,” you said. “I know today was kind of busy but I still have work in the morning right?”

“Don’t worry about work right now. We go it covered,” said Danneel. “I can show you where stuff is in your bathroom.”

You swallowed but nodded, following her back into your room and the bathroom. A part of you was expecting her to say something about wanting you gone. After all you technically weren’t hers. You were barely Jensen’s. 

“There’s a bunch of stuff like soap and shampoo and that kind of stuff in here,” she said, opening up a tall cabinet door. “Towels are up top. There’s not a hair dryer in here but I can just drop mine off outside on your bed if you want?”

“Air dry is fine,” you said quietly.

“Honestly I do the same most of the time,” she said. “There are some pads and tampons under the sink but I gotta run to a few stores in the morning anyways so maybe you can come with and we can get whatever brand you like.”

“I don’t…” you said as she cocked her head. “I get all my supplies from a free clinic. I can’t...I couldn’t afford that brand name stuff before.”

“Oh,” she said. She made a strange face and shook her head. “Well we can try them out until we find one you like.”

“Okay,” you said. 

“If you need anything just let me know,” she said. She walked past you but you heard her pause in the doorway. “Y/N a bit of advice.”

You turned around and waited for her to drop the nice act. 

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from sleazy guys. They just want sex. They don’t care about you.”

“I know that.”

“Then do me a favor and the next time you spend the night with a guy, do it cause you feel a connection with him. There’s a difference.”

“I get that too.”

“Then why sleep around?”

“Because I’ll take a fake connection over no connection.”

“You don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “Jensen and I spend a lot of time apart.”

“What is your point?” you sighed.

“Don’t fuck random guys cause you’re lonely. You might not realize this yet but you’re never gonna be alone ever again. Get used to us cause you’re fucking ours and we want better for you than a random fuck. You got that?”

“You don’t talk to me the way Jensen does,” you said quietly.

“Because he’s in pain right now and he is so scared of setting you off. I on the other hand know what it’s like to be a young woman. I won’t tell you not to have your fun. But have it with somebody special. Good guys do exist. Good dads exist. He’s not gonna hurt you. You said you’d try out there so please try.”

“Do you wish I would go?”

“I wish someday you realize what a silly question that is to be asking,” she said. “I might barely be old enough to be your mother but you didn’t just get a dad with this. You have him and you have me and three half-siblings and a whole shitload of other people. So the next time you’re lonely, you come to one of us and maybe the next guy you sleep with you can do it cause he’s a good guy. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. She nodded and started to leave when you cleared your throat. “Danneel?”

“Yeah?” she asked as she turned around.

“Where do you meet nice guys? I haven’t had much luck,” you said. 

“You’re young. Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said as some thunder shook the house. “Wash up at the sink. Jensen gets a wee paranoid about showers in thunderstorms.”

“I’m the same way,” you said.

“You two must be related or something,” she smirked.

“Seriously,” you said.

“Aw, you got his bitch face too,” she laughed. “Come down when you’re ready. We’ll save you some ice cream.”

“Thanks,” you said. She shut the bedroom door after herself and you took out a few things from the cabinet along with what you’d brought along. Fifteen minutes later your face was washed and you’d changed into pajamas, a pair of old sweatpants and a free shirt you’d gotten from the brewery. You threw your hair up in a bun and took a deep breath. 

You wandered out of the room and down the hall, getting mixed up for a moment before you found the stairs down. Danneel was sitting on the countertop with a bowl in her hand, Jensen busy decorating his own with crumbled up cookies.

“Hey,” he said. He slid the bowl across the counter and stuck a spoon in it. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Mhm,” you said. You scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, tilting your head. “Is that...whiskey?”

“Just a smidge. That, vanilla ice cream and some cookies on top? So good,” he said as he started to make himself a bowl. “We were away once back in De’s neck of the woods and had it at dinner once. Obviously my version is superior…” he said as he got a whack from Danneel. “It’s a pretty good knock off.”

“Jensen always manages to pick out the best desserts. Meanwhile I always pick the weird ones,” she laughed.

“Oh next time we’re in New York we gotta take her to that hole in the wall place,” said Jensen. 

“New York City?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. You sat up on the counter across from Danneel and sucked on your spoon, Jensen taking a spot near you when he’d finished. “How’d you end up down here. You were in Dallas up until last year weren’t you.”

“Yeah. A couple friends were gonna move down here so I went with them. I thought a new place might be good for me. They turned out to not be great friends so I wound up in an assisted place,” you said.

“Well I’m glad you came,” he said. “You been a lot of places yet?”

“Not really,” you said.

“You ever been to Franklin’s?” asked Danneel. “The barbecue place?”

“I’ve never been out to eat,” you said.

“Ever?” she asked.

“Sometimes we’d sit in McDonald’s,” you said.

“Well we’re definitely going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Jensen. “We can get whatever you like.”

“That sounds good,” you said. You took a few more bites and watched the lights flicker. 

“Uh oh,” he said just as the power went out. You stilled as he slid off the counter in the dark. They both moved around as you sat still, a lamp turning on nearby. You jumped and Jensen chuckled. “Ah, there we go. That’s…”

You jumped off the counter when he ran a hand over your head.

“It’s-“

“I don’t like the dark,” you said. You set the bowl down and started to walk around, bumping into him and then Danneel. “I don’t…”

You stepped over to the lamp on the table, taking a seat and a few deep breaths.

“Jay.”

Jensen went off into another part of the house, returning with two more camping lamps. He turned them on and the room got brighter.

“There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” asked Jensen. Danneel brought over your ice cream and you took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just don’t like the dark,” you said. You squeezed your leg and relaxed, Jensen wandering off, returning with a flashlight. He sat it next to you as you picked up your spoon and began eating again. There was a flutter of feet upstairs for a moment and you heard a whimper come from the top of the steps. Danneel got up and went over to the bottom, looking up with a frown.

“How about you sleep in your sister’s room tonight?” she asked as she went up. You finished with your bowl, Jensen leaning back in his chair.

“He’s scared of the dark too,” said Jensen. 

“I’m not scared. I said I don’t like it.”

“Alright. It’s not an interrogation,” he said. He ate from his bowl, keeping a side eye on you. “You know we have a security system and protection here.”

“You’re rich, of course you do,” you said. You stared down to an empty hall and he grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it down there. You rolled your eyes and sat back. Jensen set the extra cookies on the table, adding more to his ice cream as you stared down the dark hall again. 

“Y/N. There’s nobody here,” he said. 

“I know that,” you said. 

“It’s okay to be scared of the dark you know.” He popped a cookie in his mouth and you gave him a glare. Thunder cracked and you jumped in your seat. He moved over to the chair next you and you shut your eyes. “Can I give you a hug?”

“What?”

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” he asked.

“No,” you said. 

“Okay.” You got up and flinched when it thundered again. You started to wander around the kitchen, Jensen watching you like a hawk. You found a seat at the counter and stared down the hall, pouting when you heard him get up. “Don’t kick my ass for this.”

“Kick your ass for what?” you said just as he stopped by your seat and wrapped his arms around you. You took a deep breath and he turned you so you weren’t facing the hall. You looked up at him and he smiled.

“Come on,” he said. He pulled you out of your seat and walked over to the couch with an arm around you. You sat down next to him, Jensen pulling a blanket draped over the back onto you.

“Don’t…” you said when he hugged you again. He leaned back and you took a deep breath. He nodded and moved his arms away.

“I think I understand why you don’t like the dark,” he said. 

“I just...I don’t know you either.”

“I know but I’m your dad.”

“That doesn’t mean jackshit to me.”

“In my world it does. If you want a hug and me to sit with you while we wait for the power to come back on, that’s up to you.” 

“Fine,” you mumbled. You turned to him and groaned. “I said fine, you can hug me.”

“I see you’re just as stubborn as I am sometimes,” he said. He moved closer and pulled you into his side. After a few minutes you relaxed, watching the lightning outside the windows. “Feelin’ better?”

“There was a drug dealer my parents owed money to once. He took me when it was storming one night as collateral. They didn’t pay him back on time but he felt sorry for me or something so he dropped me off at a fire station. I said I ran away.”

“How old were you?”

“Five, six. Somewhere around there,” you said. 

“He took you from your house?” asked Jensen.

“I mean, we never lock a door. It was a roof and four walls. I’d barely call it liveable,” you said.

“Did you tell the police?”

“Jensen,” you said, tilting your head up at him. “My parents were big druggies. We didn’t call the cops. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in our environment.”

“Have you ever…” he asked. 

“No. I mean...I’ve had a hit or two off a joint before but no, no drugs. I didn’t like the weed that much either to be honest,” you said.

“You said you drink earlier today.”

“Like a beer a night, not even.”

“Just getting to know you...and see that there must have been someone that taught you not to be that way.”

“I had a grandma. She was nice. She was normal. She tried to get custody of me a few times but my parents threatened to stop letting her see me. I guess they weren’t really my parents, were they.”

“No, not really,” he said. He ran his hand over your head and you saw Danneel come back down. She took a seat in the corner with the package of cookies and set a lamp down on the coffee table. “How’s the boy?”

“Tuckered out in lil sis’ bed,” she said. “The battery on his nightlight was dead so he woke up in the dark.”

“Well the dark can be scary. I guarantee at least two of them wind up in bed with us by the time the night’s through.”

You were quiet as they talked about plans for tomorrow, who was going to do what chores, talking amongst themselves about where to take you for dinner. Jensen nudged you and you glanced up, a smile on his face.

“You want to go shopping with De tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. You listened to the rain come down harder and breathed deeply. You tensed up when Jensen shifted but he put his hand back on your head and shushed you. “I’ve kinda always wanted to try brisket.”

“I think we’re getting barbecue for dinner then,” he said. The lights turned back on and you let out a sigh, Jensen rubbing your back as you sat up. “Go ahead and keep one of those lamps and the flashlight in your room in case it happens again.”

“Thanks,” you said as you stood. “I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow then.

“See you in the morning, Y/N.”

Six Months Later

“Jensen,” you said as you leaned back against the outdoor grill. 

“Y/N…” he said as you scooted over more towards the countertop. “Yes honey?”

“Who’s that guy, the young one,” you said as you nodded out to the yard where a few tables were set up, people standing around.

“Baby face over there is Alex. He worked on the last couple seasons of the show with me. I’ve been meaning to have him and the rest of the wacky nutjobs over for awhile now. You’re a big girl, you can say hi to my friends if you want,” he said as he flipped a burger.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking over your shoulder. You saw him talking to Jared with a beer in his hand. His head turned and he saw you, flashing you a quick smile. You returned it and heard a grunt.

“He’s six years older than you,” said Jensen as he sipped from his can.

“I literally dated a like forty year old last year.”

“Gah, why, why do you tell me things like that, I…” he trailed off when he saw you giggling to yourself. “Okay you little shit, how about this?”

“How about-”

“Hey Alex! Y/N wants to talk to you!” shouted Jensen out to the yard so just about every person there turned in your direction.

“I’m eating your brownie now,” you said. You grabbed the chocolate square off the plate nearby and popped it into your mouth as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’re making me more later, missy,” he said. He ruffled your hair and messed it up just as you caught Alex walk over.

“I am so sorry for him,” you said as you tried to fix the strands.

“You have to live with him. I feel sorry for you,” he laughed. “Alex.”

“Y/N,” you said. You took your beer and walked over towards the pool, Alex smirking to himself. “What? How bad did he mess up my hair?”

“Oh you’re perfect. It’s just nice to have someone to share the pain with,” he said. “He was really excited to find out about you you know. Like obnoxiously excited.”

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug. You turned and looked back at the grill where he was working, Danneel coming out with Arrow on her hip. “They’ve grown on me. You must be an actor then if you’re at the first annual SPN whatever he and Jared are calling this.”

“They told me free beer and I was sold,” he said. “But yeah, I act. Kinda model every once in a while but that sounds really douchey so I try not to talk about it much.”

“Legit both Jay and De did it so my shock of all things Hollywood has kind of wavered by this point,” you said. “What’s California like? Is it as hot as here?”

“Not as bad. I’m from Canada actually,” he said. “The not too cold part which is nice.”

“I would take a cold day every once in a while,” you said. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week. I was gonna roadtrip down to a place called Galveston one day. Apparently it’s a beach town on the gulf. I thought that’d be fun,” he said.

“We went last month. It was so cool. I’d never been to a beach before or seen the ocean. There’s this place with amazing chili cheese fries. You gotta try them at night when it gets a bit cooler out,” you said. “My dad knows the name. I’ll have to…”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never called Jensen dad before is all,” you said. You bit your bottom lip and Alex smiled.

“Between you and me, he’s really grateful you guys found each other. He loves you a lot. I know it’s gotta be a thousand kinds of weird but he is really, really proud of you. He brags about you all the time in the group chat.”

“Of course he does. He’s a dork.”

“Oh I one hundred percent agree with that,” he chuckled. He took a sip of his beer and tilted his head. “I know this is like super spur of the moment but would you want to like, go to the beach with me? Some of the guys were gonna come that were sticking around here but if you’re free…”

“I don’t know,” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Like I would totally hang out with you. It’s just like the adult trip, you know? It’s for you guys. Besides I was supposed to watch my siblings that day,” you said.

“Well of course you can come,” said Jensen as he popped up behind you. You flinched and he had two plates with burgers on them, handing you each one. “She loved the beach. Turned into a little kid. She made a sandcastle that-”

“Jensen,” you groaned, your face hot as he cleared his throat. 

“We’ll get a sitter. You can ride with Alex,” he said. He patted your back and walked off as you sighed.

“Oh my God,” you said. Alex just laughed as he took a bite of his burger. You knew you were blushing and prayed that he didn’t notice.

“So how’s school?” he asked.

“You see that one up there? That’s Leo,” said Alex, hours and hours later. You were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, everyone else hanging out on the other side of the house around the bonfire.

“If I ever take Astrology as an elective I’ll be sure to call you to help me study,” you said. You leaned back on your palms, Alex laughing.

“You’re the one smarter than me,” he said. 

“When I apply myself it turns out I actually am,” you said. “Mostly. A business degree isn’t very fascinating though.”

“No but it’s security which I think is really good thing for you.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like you grew up rough was all. It’s not a bad thing to have something solid to fall back on, something safe,” he said. 

“This is very true. There is a guy that runs one of the food trucks that comes to the brewery, he keeps trying to convince me to open up a restaurant with him once I get my degree.”

“Do you want to?”

“No but he’s sweet so I try to let him down gently.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“No. Don’t have one,” you said.

“Cool.”

“Was that your subtle way of seeing if I was single?” you asked.

“Seems to have worked,” he smirked. You moved closer and he did the same until you paused. “Sorry. I read this wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. I just...you’re the kind of guy that takes someone out on dates and waits and is slow and nice and...you’re a good guy, right? I can’t deal with a-”

He pecked a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. He smiled and kicked his feet in the water.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he said. You bumped his arm and he bumped yours back. “You are.”

“Loser,” you said.

“Gonna push you in the ocean for that,” he smirked. He gave your hand a squeeze and pulled his feet out of the water. “Let’s hang out by the fire. It’s getting cold over here anyways.”

“Okay,” you said gently. He pulled you to your feet and you giggled. “I don’t know why I just did that.”

“It’s alright. I like that sound,” he said. He let go of your hand as you got closer to the fire, Alex stopping with you at the table with some leftover desserts still out. “I uh, I’m not perfect...or have a degree...or am tall.”

“Don’t really give a shit about that stuff,” you said. 

“Good,” he said. You swiped some cookies for yourselves and found an empty pair of chairs together, the group getting quiet when you sat but Jensen shockingly not using the opportunity to tease you. 

“That it?” you asked as you came back inside from taking out a bag of trash a few hours later.

“Yup. Thanks for helping us clean up,” said Jensen. You stretched and headed upstairs, hearing a tut from him along the way. “He’s a good friend. Just go slow, okay?”

“I know,” you said. “Goodnight. Dad.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

___________

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

.

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home. 

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose. 

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you. 

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one. 

“Oh you look terrible.” 

“Thanks I feel terrible.” 

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his. 

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—” 

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went,  exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.” 

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.” 

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry. 

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

.

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead. 

. 

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled. 

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger. 

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared. 

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date. 

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—” 

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” 

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

.

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then. 

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch. 

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven. 

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question. 

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake. 

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off. 

“Ah fuck what now.” 

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower. 

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you. 

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box. 

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways. 

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?” 

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations  long forgotten. 

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!” 

.

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night. 

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything. 

[joonie-beanie]

The Demon Brothers + College AU + (Cliche?) First Meetings

So an anon sent me the above ask, and it may have gotten a little out of hand ;;;

I also kind of switched it up and made it college instead. Hopefully the meetings I came up with are still somewhat cliche! Or, at the very least, cute lol

Lucifer:

You’re running late for class on the first day of the semester and he holds the elevator door open for you when he sees the desperate look on your face, and how you’re making a dash for the closing doors.

“Thank you,” you breathe out as you try to get ahold of yourself, hoping that the tall, handsome male beside you doesn’t see or hear the way you’re struggling for air. (It’s 8am, okay? Your body isn’t ready to be running so early.)

“Which floor do you need?” he asks, smiling politely. You respond “four”, and he hums to himself while hitting the button.

When he doesn’t press a different button, you assume he’s heading to the same floor.

“Thanks, by the way,” you say, flashing him a small smile. “You really saved my ass.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds, gaze shifting to look at the small screen above the door. The second floor moves past with a quiet beep. Silence falls for a couple of seconds.

“May I ask what class you’re heading to?”

“Ah, it’s a psychology lab,” you respond, laughing to yourself after a beat. You pull your phone from your pocket, trying to find the screenshot you’d taken of your schedule. “I signed up for this one because Rate My Professor said the TA is hot.”

“Oh? Is that so?” You’re not paying attention, so you don’t see the smirk that tugs at his lips.

The next moment, the elevator stops and the two of you step out together. You exit first, flashing the male one last smile before you turn your attention to your phone, double checking the room number. Lucifer brushes past you without saying a word, and you don’t realize that you’re headed in the same direction until you glance up, and find him holding the classroom door open for you.

“After you,” he says, and while you’re confused, you dip your head in thanks and make your way in. Since you’re one of the last ones in the classroom, you get stuck sitting in the front row.

As you unpack your things, Lucifer steps to the head of the room and sets his computer bag down onto the desk.

“Good morning, class,” he says, his gaze shifting to you when you look up and see that it’s him who is speaking--a vibrant blush rising to your face as you recall what you’d told him in the elevator.

“My name is Lucifer, and I will be the TA for this lab.”

Mammon:

You’re in the large, open eating area at the campus student union when he bumps into you.

Instantly, the greasy, cheesy pizza on your tray jumps up and lands on the front of your shirt. You freeze in shock, wide eyes glancing down as the personal pizza slides down your chest before flopping back onto the tray.

“Oi, watch where you’re going,” a voice says behind you, and you slowly turn around to face the apparently dumbass man who doesn’t even have the sensibility to apologize to you.

Despite that fact that he sounds pompous, you can’t deny that his styled white hair, and pierced ears are kind of charming.

“You backed into me,” you tell him, attempting to keep your calm. You almost lose it when you see his eyes rake down to your chest, staring at the likely un-washable stain on the fabric. He stares much too long, and you’re just about to curse at him when he speaks up again.

“Uhhh...,” he raises a hand to sheepishly rub at his neck, and when you look closely, you see that a blush has spread across his face. “Y-ya know what, maybe it is my fault...can I, um, buy ya another pizza?”

You blink, surprised at the sudden turn around in his attitude.

“That would be nice,” you say honestly, and suddenly he’s smiling, hopping back into the pizza line, which is right beside where the two of you had collided.

“I-If ya want, I’ll lend you my jacket because of, ya know, your shirt,” he says, motioning to your obviously ruined top. You cock an eyebrow at him. 

“You’d give a stranger your jacket?”

 “Well...I’m kind of hoping that you’ll have lunch with me, and we won’t be strangers for long,” he mumbles, gaze shying away. “Or, ya know, that I can get your number at least.”

“You’re really pushing it,” you tell him with a laugh, and you can see his feathers ruffle. He’s obviously embarrassed at you calling out his flirting. “But...maybe we can eat lunch together. Since you’re paying.”

He blinks, shocked at your words, but soon breaks into a smile. Self-satisfied, he continues grinning stupidly even as the cashier calls him up. However, when he pulls out his wallet, swipes his card, and it comes back denied...

“Uhh...can you pay this time? I PROMISE I’ll pay you back.”

You sigh, and debate throttling him.

Levi:

You sit next to him in a lecture hall, and can’t help but notice that the background on his laptop is Sailor Moon. 

When you reach down to dig a notebook out of your bag, you also see the number of anime and video game pins decorating the front of his backpack.

While you don’t tend to talk to strangers, you can’t help but say something.

“Hey, um,” you start, catching his attention. He freezes, amber eyes shifting to look at you--wide with surprise. You smile, doing your best to come off as casual, and friendly. “I noticed all the pins on your backpack. Do you like anime? I started watching Demon Slayer the other week, and I’m in love with it.”

“I...you...,” his surprise shifts to wonder as he regards you. The slightest blush rises on his cheeks. “You watch anime???”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Is that so weird?”

“N-no, I guess not,” he mumbles, his hands fiddling with the cuffs of his hoodie. You wonder if you’ve made a mistake by talking to him, since he seems so shy--

“Do you play video games too??” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he scoots forward, eyes sparkling. He’s whispering hurriedly, eyes briefly straying to glance at the time on his laptop. “I recently started playing Doki Doki Literature club, and it’s crazy. I love RPG games, and Indie games too--like IB, and Mad Father. Witches House is also good. Of course, I’ll give pretty much any video game a chance, but--”

At that moment, the professor steps up and addresses the class. Levi’s words cut off, and his blush deepens as he suddenly realizes that he’d gone on a mini fanboy rant. However, you just smile at him, hoping that you come off reassuring, and turn to your notebook.

During the lecture, you’re too busy taking notes to notice the way he sneaks glances your way. And when the class finally ends, and you move to repack your belongings, you look up to find him staring at you.

“Is something on your mind?” you ask him. 

“I...um...I-I was wondering if I could get your contact info. You know...f-for class stuff, and maybe, if..if you wanted to, we could also talk more about anime…?”

“Sure!” you say, and he blinks, apparently shocked by your willingness. The two of you proceed to exchange emails and phone numbers, and by the time you arrive at your next class 15 minutes later, 6 new text messages (about anime, video games, and the like) from Levi are lighting up your phone screen.

Satan:

He’s volunteering at the library when you approach him, desperate for help finding a textbook you need to scan for a class. You’ve looked everywhere, but still can’t find it.

“You do realize that this code is indicating that this textbook is online, right? Not physically in the library?” he asks you, a bit of amusement swimming in his eyes when he hands your phone back to you--the screen open to an email your professor had sent a few days before.

You feel heat rise on your cheeks. “Ah, nope. Did not realize...”

“It happens often, actually. I’m sorry for teasing, I shouldn’t have” he says, smiling at you. “If you want, you can come around the desk, and I’ll show you how to access the textbook online. That way, you won’t be confused next time.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, scooting your way around the desk. Satan pulls up a spare chair beside him, and your knee accidentally knocks against his as you take a seat. 

“Here, you just have to search for it in the library portal,” he says, and you attentively watch as he guides you through the online website. However, when he starts going off into a spiel on all of the other cool resources and books available to students online, your attention strays.

You notice the copy of Jane Eyre open on the desk beside the computer. 

“Are you reading a book that’s assigned in high school AP Lit?”

He blinks in confusion, but immediately goes on the defense when he notices where you’re looking.

“Hey, Jane Eyre is a classic. And the help desk is far too slow some days. I need something to keep me busy.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s fair,” you respond, smiling. You move to grab your bag--pressing to your feet. “I can’t blame you either, considering I actually enjoyed reading it once upon a time. The Great Gatsby was probably my next favorite.”

“Personally, out of all the high school literature, I enjoyed Fahrenheit 451,” he responds, grinning when he sees the disgruntled look on your face at hearing the name of the book.

“Really?? I still have no idea what it was about.”

He’s quiet for a moment. You turn to look at him, and find him regarding you with interest. 

Satan smiles.

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

Asmo:

Asmo is working a booth about safe sex in the student union when you approach, hoping to get free condoms (or maybe even donate to support the organization, considering it’s a good cause).

“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says, smiling at you as you survey the goodies and pamphlets laid out on the table. He comes off as a little flirty, but mostly friendly, and well intentioned. “Are you here to buy one of our prettily shaped chocolates?”

He motions to the cup full of vagina-shaped chocolates on a stick. Your eyebrows raise. Huh.

“Well, that’s not why I stopped, but I may need to buy one now,” you laugh, making him smile. Asmo leans forward onto his elbows, his eyes twinkling up at you.

“Are you here for the condoms then? If so, feel free to take a handful. We have a ton prepared. People on this campus fuck like bunnies, honestly.”

You laugh. “Oh? Well, good on you guys for protecting all of the precious, needy students.”

He nods sagely, moving to gather you a few of the wrapped condoms, along with some educational reading material. “Can’t have a bunch of students getting diseases, or pregnant. Sex should be fun and safe. Always! And if it’s not both, then find someone else to fuck.” 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, smiling as he hands you your free goodies. Your eyes stray back to the vagina chocolates. “How much for one of those?”

“5 dollars,” he says, reaching over to grab one. “Pricey, I know, but the money goes to a good cause.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you laugh, pulling a 5 from your wallet. The two of you exchange items, and you pocket the chocolate. You flash him one last smile, intending to walk away, but he pipes up before you get too far.

“By the way, we’re having a class on BDSM safety tonight~” You pause at his words, turning to face him, and he grins at the look of interest plain on your face. “In case you’re interested.”

“Are you...implying something?” you ask, posing a hand on your hip as you turn to face him. He cocks his head to the side innocently.

“I would never~ But you’ve left a good impression in the two minutes we’ve known each other, and I’m the one teaching the class, so~ I’d be thrilled to see you there.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised, but amused as well. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, you turn on your heel and head to class. But you definitely end up attending the class that night.

Beel:

You meet during a 1-credit, weekend Yoga class. He puts his mat down next to yours, and you can’t help but stare at his biceps, and triceps, and...wow he’s really built.

Aside from that, though, he looks pretty concerned.

“Have you never done yoga before?” you ask him, smiling politely. Having caught his attention, he turns to look at you--the same adorable frown pulling at his lips.

“No...I like to work out, but I’ve never done yoga...I’m not very flexible.” You watch him as he demonstrations by sticking his legs out and trying to touch his toes. His fingertips only reach halfway down his calves.

“It’s okay!” you tell him. “I’m pretty new to yoga too! And this is just an intro course, so I wouldn’t worry. Most of the grade comes from knowing technical terms, and I’ve heard this instructor is really nice.”

At that, he finally smiles--relieved to hear you say so.

“I’m Beel, by the way,” he says.

“Y/N,” you respond, but before the two of you get the chance to talk more, the instructor arrives. You then spend the next few hours smiling to yourself as you watch Beel struggle to get into poses. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re getting humor out of his situation.

“Did you not eat today?” you ask him when lunch finally rolls around, flopping back against your mat. He shakes his head, rummaging around in his bag. You can hear his stomach growling.

“I had an extra large breakfast since I knew I would be burning calories, but I’m starving now…” He pulls an entire sub from his bag, and when you catch a peek at the inside, you realize that the entire backpack is stuffed with only food. Holy shit.

But...you suppose he does need to eat a lot, if he works out a lot.

“I’m gonna grab a soda, and I’ll be back,” you say quietly, assuming that you’ll be eating lunch together, since he’s already turning to face your mat. 

“Okay,” he says with a smile, and you smile back at him, excited to get to know him more. However, before you can even get a step away,  you’re tripping over your backpack

The world spins, and you hold your arms in front of you--expecting to eat shit--but you don’t meet the floor. Two arms curl beneath you and your body rolls--your ass landing between folded legs.

You blink in surprise, blushing when you glance up and find that it’s none other than Beel who is holding you. Concern is written on his face. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that you’re currently occupying his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asks, not moving to release you, and oh boy you think your heart may beat straight out of your chest.

Belphie:

You meet him in the library computer lab at 11:48pm, on the last day of finals.

You trudge into the computer lab, bordering on going blind. You’ve spent the last 6 hours writing out your term paper, and had felt pretty fucking proud when you’d finished with a whole 30 minutes to spare, but just as you’d gone to submit the paper online, your apartment wi-fi had cut out

Of course.

So, you pop a squat at one of the many computers--not even realizing that someone else is in the lab until you hear a quiet snore.

Immediately, you’re pausing, standing to glance around the room. A few computers down, sitting parallel to you, is a dark haired male, with his head down on the keyboard.

Honestly, you debate not waking him. He probably needs the rest, but as a fellow student, and considering it’s the last day of finals? You can’t just leave him be in good conscience.

“Hey, uh, dude?” you call out, glancing at him from over the row of computers. He doesn’t stir. “Heyyyy~ It’s almost midnight,” you say a bit louder. “I don’t know if you’re writing something, but you better submit it.”

Finally, he stirs.

“Aw, fuck,” you hear him grumble, and he lifts his head up--his tired gaze turning to look at you. He sighs. “Thanks. You probably just saved my ass.”

“No worries,” you respond, laughing a little. You sit back down in your seat, and put in your credentials....only for the computer to indicate that you’ve put in the wrong password.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you say, deadpanning, and try another password. Then another, and another. None of them work, and you don’t have enough time left to change it.

“I’m gonna fucking jump off the roof,” you deadpan, holding your face in your hands. Belphie chuckles.

“Something wrong?”

“I guess I don’t know my computer password, so I can’t log in and submit my paper.” You say, glancing up. This time, it’s Belphie who is glancing over the row of monitors at you, eyebrow raised.

“You can come use mine. I just submitted my paper. Just log into the school site with your ID.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, and Belphie scoots his chair over as you walk around the aisle to meet him. Again, he laughs.

“Eye for an eye.”

“That’s...you use that phrase with enemies,” you tell him, unable to help the smile that spreads across your face. He blinks, and then groans.

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m still asleep. Just...forget I said that.”

“Actually, I think I’ll remember it forever,” you respond, and he grins, his eyes shifting to look at the keyboard as you type out your password.

“Okay, OppaiLover69 exclamation point.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and when you see the shit-eating look at his face, you debate throwing hands. He’s lucky he’s cute.

[fallindomino]

how i would have changed s2 of hsmtmts

obvious disclaimer but im not a screenwriter or anyth so im not claiming what i want is best, this is just for fun lololol

okay so first of all nini would still have dropped out of yac but she wouldn’t have gone back to east, she would have transferred to north bc she was too ashamed to tell anyone she left at first and maybe she still wants to explore who she is away from ricky and the others

nini could join north’s batb and this way maybe we could have some playful rivalry with lily and nini and more scenes with antoine shdhdjdj also it could have been a great opportunity to flesh out lily’s character so those scenes where she reaches out to ricky and her confession at the end of the season actually make sense lol

speaking of ricky ,,, i think he should have left the play at some point hear me out. he only joined in the first place because of nini and barely wanted to do it at all once he realized he wasn’t gonna be able to perform with her. he could have joined crew and been a manager with natalie or smth considering he rlly does see the theater gang as a second family. also this would leave so much room for ej and ricky development and bants since ej joined the av club and began to pursue film. they could have some convos where idk ricky asks ej how he figured out what he wanted to do after duke didn’t work out and ricky could actually develop some interests that arent the play or nini ,,, maybe fucking art club i mean he did p good on that centerpiece for carlos’ quinceañera.

with ricky not being the beast anymore i think seb should take his place that would be soooo good. and since seb isn’t chip anymore carlos won’t make those snide comments about chip being a small unimportant role and we can just cut that whole fight bc it was dumb and bad. we could still have seb being insecure that carlos is only dating him bc there aren’t really any other gay guys at school. in a heartbeat is great and i did like ricky being supportive in the background it was kinda funny too idk dhdjdjfj

ooh i almost forgot abt rini ahshdj okay so i still think they should break up. but in my version there’s no ricky pulling an ej 1.0 and deleting comments off of nini’s insta, cause with ricky in art club and nini at north trying to figure out what she wants i think one of them would realize that they’re going in different directions and only got back tgt because they made each other feel safe cause what they had was familiar. this could be triggered by ricky mentioning smth abt nini at yac and then nini breaks down and tells him that she dropped out and is at north and doesn’t know where she’s going. and then they can both realize they aren’t good for each other rn and have a less tragic mutual break up.

honestly i really liked the scene of nini taking charge after miss jenn freaked out cause with the character detail of nini giving every person in the cast of productions she’s in a thank you note she just seems really like someone who is suited to lifting others up. this could still be explored at north, maybe she could help lily through her issues that were briefly implied in ep 11 and nini realizes she wants to be a drama teacher and encourage kids to go off book and put themselves into their acting, something she couldn’t have at yac.

okay now ej ,,, so like i said in ricky’s section, more bants between them cause i feel like friendships kinda fell by the wayside due to all the relationships so more friendship !!!! also the scene where ej tells his dad he’s not going to duke shouldn’t have been an ending scene, it should have been fleshed out with his dad pushing back saying how he pulled all these strings to get him in and ej saying he doesn’t wanna go if his own hard work couldn’t get him there. and also more scenes of ej doing av club things !!! and realizing he rlly likes film and wants to do it OMG IT WOULD BE SO COOL IF HE BROKE THE FOURTH WALL AND ASKED THE DOCUMENTARY CREW ABT THE FILM INDUSTRY god i would love that. the only scene we rlly got of ej doing film things was at the quinceañera which made me kinda sad. uhhh also i just wanted to specifically mention how ej got mr mazzara that job at cal tech bc it really showed how he wanted to be there for people not just for gina, who he had a crush on, but for mr mazzara who supported him outside of romance, so i wanna keep that for sure.

gina !!! okay so i mostly liked her arc in this season, the only changes i would make would be to flesh it out a teeny bit (god this hypothetical s2 would have to be like 22 eps at least shdjdjdjfj) anyways besides ashlyn singing home to get gina to stay i think there should be a scene where they actually talk in her room abt how gina feels safer when shes on the run (second chance reference ilysm) hhhh and also a scene of her and carlos actually working out compromises for their choreo cause i liked that bit of development too and fleshing that out would make gina an even better foil for lily, who felt a need to hog the spotlight like gina used to. with gina’s own arc fleshed out her character would feel more whole independently from romance and portwell would be even more rewarding than it is in the current s2. the only thing i would really change abt portwell is that they would kiss !!! in the finale but thats bc im biased.

ashlyn should have gotten a more fleshed out storyline about being insecure about not being a good enough belle or the typical belle. there were some throwaway lines when north did their typical dramatics but the only two real scenes that showed it were when ash talked to big red about it and when she was telling nini she wanted to do a run in “home” bc lily did it. ashlyn should get more screen time where she has to grapple with the reasons she doesn’t feel good enough and big red can still support her but also gina too bc i would like more roommate besties interaction.

kourtney could still date howie, that harry potter shit was cute but there needs to be smth else for kourtney’s arc. idk she’s still into fashion so maybe she could be out here trying to create her own line or smth? this doesn’t have to be resolved in s2 like making a wholeass line takes time and she could work on it into a potential s3. kourtney just didnt get much outside of howie and the stuff at the beginning of the season where she said nini inspired her to be independent and that's why she got a job was just dropped?? so i think that fashion could fill that for her if she’s still dating howie cause like having her whole arc just be the pizza place kinda overlaps w big red’s mini arc abt how he wasn’t settling for hospitality, its what he wants to do with his life.

ik what ur thinking. anna, even if you added more episodes, where would u find the room to add all these plotlines?? well first we cut (most of) the seblos fight, so thats some time saved. honestly most of the time that we r going to gain is going to be from cutting ms jenn’s time. things like ms jenn’s and nini’s car ride would get cut, but mostly all of ms jenn’s romances would get cut down. considering she’s the teacher and isn’t actually a character with an arc how does she have THREE love interests this season?? like all of the weird tension between her and zack can be cut, like just some short scenes of them being competitive can stay. all of the stuff with ricky’s dad can go bye bye we don’t need it. i did like her w mr mazzara so most of that can stay i just didn’t like how he said he would give up cal tech for her, ew no that would be gone.

the MENKIES !!!! this is the last thing im gonna address cause in a perfect world every character would get a long fleshed out arc but then the season would be waaay too long and also im mostly trying to work within material the show gave so this is mostly made up of “realistic” deviations from what actually happened. lol idk what that even means it just makes sense to me. but anyways!! uhhh bro idk i thought them dropping the menkies was funny but it also made the finale really BAD lmao. in this finale, seb is the beast, east still had to deal w the fact that they’re underfunded compared to north but no one is injured, lily is less of a poorly written character and maybe ppl are even rooting for her, and wow i just realized i never actually said what role i think nini should have in north’s show. OOH she could be student director instead of lily cause lily both being in the play while also directing was weird considering omg i just checked and according to her wiki page shes a FRESHMAN?? and they let her be student director? lol hell nah. okay so with all that in mind ,,, the menkies should have been the season cliffhanger instead of portwell. east and north should both be nominated, both schools perform at the menkies, and then the award winner is about to be announced and THATS when it cuts to natalie and the end of the season.

one, this actually gives more tension for a summer s3 as we would be waiting to see the consequences of whichever school won. also i bet people would be wondering if nini’s gonna be transferring back to east or staying at north. people would also prob wonder if ej would be getting the scholarship if east won and what that would mean for his interest in film.

lmao that got longggg and idk if anyone’s even gonna read this but it was fun to do :D

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​

[bluedemon1995]

Kidge Post of Monday and Tuesday

Monday April 18th: Free Day

Keith hated the times when he was indecisive. It wasn’t often but when it happened it really caused him some distress. It’s been a month and he still hadn’t asked Greenie who they were. He did ask what state they lived in and it was the same but he stopped there. He had been getting teased mercilessly by Lance and it was really starting to get old.

But despite what the guys said, it wasn’t because he was scared. Nope it was all one due to one little but formidable girl.

In fact, he could trace it back to that one day, when Katie completely shut down Lotor and he had followed her to the lunch room. He said hi and sat eating his lunch across from her, debating how to open up a conversation. Should he mention that he knew Matt? That Shiro was essentially his big brother?

While contemplating the best avenue, he was saved from that awkward fate when Kolivan walked in and handed her a laptop.

She stared blankly for a moment then laughed, pushing the offending laptop towards him. “Um, thanks but no thanks. This is so old that I’d be better off using my phone. I have my own laptop that I’d prefer to use if that’s acceptable.”

Kolivan nodded, “Alright Ms. Holt but - ”

She interrupted, “Nope, Pidge or Katie if you must-but not Ms. Holt, reminds me of my unmarried aunt, who has like 15 cats. No thanks.”

Keith laughs out loud, feeling both pairs of eyes on him, he mutters an excuse, “Sorry, just had a vision of that. My bad.”

Mini-Holt, or rather Katie, quickly retorts, “Nope, laugh away, it isn’t a pretty sight, if I say so myself.”

Kolivan looks straight at Keith and just arches a brow. Flushing Keith gets busy pulling his lunch out of his bag, keeping his eyes down.

After a few moments, Kolivan leaves and Keith decides to introduce himself. They chatted for a little bit and Keith got his first taste of her. Her humor. Her twinkling eyes, which more than not could be found rolling. Soon he was looking forward to the nights they worked together. Anticipating their timed lunch breaks. He also found, he was drinking allot more coffee. Their banter was fun and she was sarcastic and witty. He found her…intoxicating. Complexing. Shit, she was unlike anyone else he knew.

Soon he found himself hanging out with both Holt siblings and Shiro. They went to grab pizza, play board games and just hang at each other’s places. Soon, he realized that Katie knew Lance and Hunk as well, as they were talking a few classes together. Suddenly it was like he had real life friends and he didn’t need to rely on the online one as much.

He was torn. He really really liked Katie, so he felt weird about pursuing something with Greenie. Not that he was dating her but he was developing some feelings and he didn’t want to waste this opportunity in front of him. He might be obtuse but he knew this could be something. Something good. Great even.

So instead, he focused on the intelligent and loyal girl in front of him. Shiro kept asking him when he was going to take the leap and ask her out but he wasn’t quite there yet. Smirking, he thought it would have to be soon though. Because, he found his hand drifting to push back a piece of her hair, bringing food because he found she often forgot to pack a lunch or offering to give her a ride to and from work. Sighing, he contemplated his sad life.

Tuesday, April 19th: Cherry Blossoms

The group was taking their first group weekend road trip together. It was spur of the moment but everyone was pretty excited. It originally was just the Holts deciding to leave the house so their parents could have some private time for their anniversary. Then Matt asked Shiro, Shiro asked Keith and then Lance found out and just invited himself along. At that point, Katie asked Hunk so now it was a group thing. Fun.

With their limited funds, the Holts would be in a room since Matt very clearly stated he did not trust any of them with his sister. That left the rest of the group of guys staying in a different room due to …let’s say financial constraints. They had planned to catch a ballgame, eat and maybe do a ghost tour the next day. Nothing big but this would be a lot of time with Katie, while not alone, Keith was really looking forward to it.

Unfortunately after an hour in the car, Keith felt mildly claustrophobic. Lance was loud. But inside a mini van, he was positively deafening. Then there was Hunk who insisted he got car sick but still insisted on eating! Shiro was the drive so Matt sat shotgun. Which meant the music was a mess of songs that Keith felt like he had whiplash from. Frank Sinatra, to Greenday, to Phantom of the Opera, this guy had a wide range of taste.

Then there were the stops. Hunk was in the back until the car hit one too many bumps and they had to switch. It was convenient for him because Katie was in the back and he had no problem sitting next to her. In fact, he was happy until he realized that Hunk must have a bladder the size of a peanut because he constantly needed them to stop. Extending their time in the torture device.

Feeling resigned, Keith sees an opportunity. Katie ended up falling asleep because she never goes to bed when she is supposed to. He slowly slides her towards him, putting his arm around her and settling in. She felt perfect. He let his mind wander and wonder.

He never had a girlfriend. Not really. He went on dates. Usually the girls asked him out and they hung out until he was not interested anymore. Or he pissed them off because he didn’t share his feelings or spend a shit ton of money on them. Somehow looking at the little pixie by his side, he didn’t think that was going to happen.

Shiro kept telling him he had to make a move. Which he wanted to do. But, he just felt stupid and was trying to come up with a good time to do it. Something memorable. She deserved memorable.

So when they stop for the fifty millionth time and he sees the cherry blossoms, he makes a decision. Now, he’ll bite the bullet now.

He gently wakes her up before the door slams shut and grabs her hand self consciously. He slow walks her to the side of the bathrooms of the rest stop and pauses. She blinks up adorably and her smile makes this whole torture worth it.

“Keith, these are cherry blossoms. Did you know that they are a symbolic flower of spring and renewal? And they are called Sakura in Japan? It’s like a celebration. In Japan they picnic beneath the trees and it’s called Hanami. Shit, sorry I’m rambling, you can just tell me to shut up.”

“No, no. I love how you know so many things. Really.” Keith thought, this is it, I’m going to tell her how I feel. Turning slightly, he starts with, “Katie,”

Then all the guys appear and Shiro goes into senses mode and starts talking about cherry blossoms. Well fuck.

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[hopeless-starry-kingdom]

you broke me first | Peter Parker

Summary: You have to remind Peter it was his fault you were broken up

read part 1 and 2 here !

song: you broke me first by Tate McRae 

a/n: happy valentines day!! hope everyone’s day was good and here is the last part of this mini series :))))

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that your were thinking ‘bout someone else

“If you guys are going to make out can you at least do it somewhere else. I’m eating.” MJ put her book back to her eye level as you and Harry pulled away from each other. You blushed and Harry smirked before throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“C’mon, MJ. Don’t be such a cockblock.” You slapped Harry on his arm and he laughed. “If you want I can set you up with one of my friends.”

MJ put her book down and pretended to think about the offer. “A rich daddy’s boy with two functional brain cells, who’s also a fuckboy. I’ll pass” She smiled sarcastically at Harry and he chuckled.

“Have I ever mentioned I like your friends?” You giggled at him and shook your head. MJ flipped him off and you had to bite back your laugh.

“Stop patronizing her.” You tried to be stern but the smirk on Harry’s face paired with MJ lips twitching up didn’t help your case. “Yes madame.”

Or your phones been off for a couple months, so you’re callin’ me now

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours before turning back to eat his lunch. You smile was big as you stared at him but something caught your attention. From behind him you saw Peter, Gwen, and Ned walking. Gwen had her arm wrapped around Peter’s arm. Ned was talking to Gwen about something and Peter was already staring at you. You gave him a small smile and a head nod before turning back to your small group.

“Hey, did Mr. Harrington ever say when the essay was due?”

“I cant keep going. My brain is fried.” You groaned as you flopped down on MJ’s bed and rested your arms over your eyes to block the light from coming in.

“Yeah, i’m pretty burnt too. You hungry? I can order some pizza.”

“Please?” You begged and sat up as MJ was looking for the number on her phone your phone buzzed with a message. It was Harry.

Can you come over tomorrow? I wanna spend time with you <3

You bit your lip go hide to hide the smile that was threatening to come through. Harry was always so sweet with you. He had a cocky front that he showed everyone else, sometimes with you as well. But you knew deep down he was a teddy bear. Texts like this showed that. And even though Harry explained to you that his father never showed him love, and continues not to, he doesn’t see a reason not to show love.

But I ran out of every reason

“Hey, can you please stop sexting Harry? I’m trying to hang out with you.” A pillow collided with your face and you gasped.

“MJ! I’m not sexting Harry. He wants to know if I can hang out tomorrow. It’s sweet.” You quickly responded back to his text and told him you could.

“You two are disgustingly cute. It makes me sick. And tell him to stop hogging you, I feel like he’s always with you. Does he not know he has to share?” You threw your head back and laughed at her.

“So now i’m an object of sharing? Nice to know.” You laughed and soon MJ was joining in with you.

Took a while, I was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I coulda ever, you know that hurt

“I’m happy for you, Y/N. I know the whole thing with Peter had you in a funk..” You looked down at your hands and nodded. You still thought about Peter often. Soley because you had him in some of your classes and you constantly saw him around school. But you never thought of him like you used to. You stopped loving the way his smile reached his eyes and lit up the whole room. You stopped loving his curls. You stopped loving his unconditional kindness.

It was over now, officially. You weren’t hurting anymore and it felt so amazing to say it. The storm had passed and had taken Peter Parker with it. You were happy now with Harry. So extremely happy. You didn’t actually think it was possible but after giving the relationship a chance, you couldn’t believe how happy you were with Harry.

You never wanted to depend your happiness on soley being in a relationship. You were better than that. But you were finding you were happy by yourself and with Harry. It was the best middle ground. You thought you had to depend on Peter or a relationship to be content. And it definitely wasn’t true.

“I’m just glad that it’s all over with. And Peter was an asshole to you.” You both laughed at her statement.

“Yeah, i’m glad it’s over too.” She smiled at you before tapping a button on her phone.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

Swear, for awhile, I would stare at my phone just to see your name

Gwen Stacy gasped as she read the note that fell out of her locker. It was the fourth one this week. And she couldn’t count how many she got over all. Apparently she was a dirty two-faced snake. She preached girl supporting girls but to everyone else she stole someone’s boyfriend which didn’t exactly sit right with the girls of the school. Gwen didn’t mean for it to happen and she tried explaining it to some of the girls in her art class but they just rolled their eyes at her.

“Another one? Let me see.” Peter grabbed the note and read over it before tearing to to shreds.

“Yes, another one Peter. In fact the fourth one this week. And maybe if i’m lucky i’ll get one tomorrow and see what else the girls have to say about me in the girls restroom. I can’t keep doing this Peter.” Gwen slammed her locker and held her head in her hands.

“Ok, well i’ll go talk to Mr. Harrington. Or even the principal. I’ll tell them that it’s been getting out of hand and—”

“No, Peter. That’s not what I mean. I mean I can’t do this. Us.” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at Peter because she knew if she did she’d melt.

“W-what? Gwen, what do mean?”

“Peter I cant keep living like this! People hate me all because you broke Y/N’s heart. And I can’t blame them either becuase you left her for me, you broke the poor girl. I’d hate me too.”

“They’ll get over it! It’s none of their buisness.” He reached over and tried to grab the girls hands but she instantly pulled away.

“Peter, I really like you. I do. But with college applications coming up and school’s scouting, I can’t risk letting this affect me getting into NYU. I don’t have the time for petty school drama.”

“Gwen, cmon. Please, I really like you too. I can figure something out.” He pleaded. He couldn’t let Gwen go, not after everything that happened with you.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I really am.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before smiling sadly at him. She turned with her books in her hand and walked away.

Peter groaned and kicked the locker next to him. It created a dent and some people began to whisper and point. He sighed before walking to his first class.

‘Did you hear what happened????’

You furrowed yourself brows at MJ’s text. You quickly looked up and seen your teacher pointing to the board and explaining today’s lesson. You placed your phone in your lap as you typed back a response.

‘Hear what? Did Flash trip and fall into the trash again?’

You looked up again and pretended to take notes and waited for her to text back. Once you felt your phone buzz your eyes nearly bulged out of your head

‘No! Though that would make my day— Gwen broke up with Peter! Some junior over heard it from their locker and started to spread it. That’ll show him!’

You gulped as you put your phone away and stared ahead. Peter no longer had Gwen. Peter no longer had the girl he left you for. She ended it with him. You had a mix of emotions. For one you wanted to rub your relationship in his face. He left you for someone and now they broke up with him.

You couldn’t believe how much it back fired on him. You wanted to laugh in his face and call him a huge idiot. You wouldn’t ever dare think of leaving him. He got his karma.

But you also felt a little sad for him. Gwen broke up with him. You couldn’t imagine how upset and sad he was feeling. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of it being his fault. Becuase maybe it was.

The rest of the week was filled with gossip about Peter being dumped by Gwen. The girls said he deserved it but also thought it didn’t excuse Gwen either. She noticed she still got stared in the hall but the whispers stopped and so did the writing in the restroom. It was a start.

They scoffed at Peter and made sure to give him a dirty look. Peter wasn’t feeling too good either. He couldn’t belive he lost you and Gwen. Ned tried to reasure him that it wasn’t meant to be. All Peter did was smile and nod. And then he saw you smiling and laughing with Harry. Living your best life and he felt jealous and angry. Jealous and angry that you were happy without him. And jealous and angry that Harry was the one to kiss you and give you hugs from behind.

That should be me.

He hated himself for thinking that. He broke up with you. He left you. So why was he thinking about you like he had in the past? It dawned on him for the next few days that letting you go was a mistake. He didn’t actually like Gwen, he liked the idea of her. The popular, girl next door version of Gwen Stacy is what he liked. Sure, Gwen was funny and nice and smart but so were you. And much more in his opinion.

He was an idiot who let you go because he liked the idea of someone. He chose that over loving you.

“The blood drive took way longer than I thought.” You pressed your phone against your ear with your shoulder as you began to enter your locker combination.

“Well saving lives isn’t a two second process miss Y/L/N.” You rolled your eyes at Harry being sarcastic.

“I can’t believe your missing school to attend one of your dads meeting in the Upper East Side.” Harry chuckled and shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a buisness man too.” Harry’s father glared at him as they walked in the halls of the conference room. He knew that was his way of telling Harry to get off the phone.

“Hey, babe. I have to go, the meetings starting soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.”

“Bye, Harry. See you.” You smiled as you hung up the phone and pocketed your phone. You were excused for two of your class periods and now had to be at your next one as the bell rang. You quickly grabbed the books you needed and slammed the locker shut. You gasped in surprise when you seen who was behind the locker.

“Peter? Um, what are you doing?” You looked around anxiously to see if any other students noticed you and the curly haired boy standing within a few feet of each other. They had.

“H-how are you?”

“I’m good? Do you need something? I have physics next and—”

“Your teacher will kill you if you’re late.” He chuckled as he nervously twiddled his fingers. You didn’t laugh though. “How-How’s being able to drive now? I bet it feels like you have a ton of freedom.”

“Peter, i’m sorry if this sounds rude but what do you want? You’ve made it pretty clear these past few months you don’t want anything to do with me. So what do you need? Is this about you being you-know-who?” You whispered the last part to make sure no one heard. “I promise I won’t tell Harry or anyone else.”

“No! It’s not that it’s... Okay I know this might sound so crazy and insane but please, just hear me out.” He had his puppy dog eyes on and you couldn’t ever resist them. What was a few minutes?

“You have like two minutes before I have to go.” You glanced at your phone for the time.

“Okay, sweet. First off I want to say how sorry I am for the way I treated you, Y/N. It was so shitty and I just tossed you to the side. I will never be able to forgive myself for that but I was hoping... maybe you can?”

You smiled at the boy once you realized what he was doing. He was giving you a formal apology. Though it was long over due you knew you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. You just weren’t that person. And you were finally over Peter. It was all working out.

“Of course, I can forgive you, Peter. Thank you for apologizing. It does mean a lot. Well i’ll see you around?” Peter’s brows furrowed before quickly shaking his head.

“Wait that’s not all.” Your looked at him quizzically and urged him to continue. “I was wondering I-if you’d like to give us, me and you, another try. At dating, of course.” He smiled at you and suddenly you were no longer smiling. You took a step back as you stared at him in disbelief.

How dare he? How dare he break your heart and then come running back to you the moment Gwen breaks up with him. You were his second choice and that hurt. And to top it off, you were with Harry, happily.

“How dare you, Peter Parker?” Peter gulped as he recognized the anger and disappointment in your tone.

“Becuase shit isn’t going your way, you think this is okay?” You voice was now raised and now suddenly everyone in the hall turned to face you two.

“Y/N, please. Just let me explain—”

“Now suddenly you’re asking for me back? Could you tell me where’d you get the nerve?” You spit and Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen you so mad.

“I made a huge mistake. I miss you. I miss us.” He tried pleading but you scoffed

“You can say you miss all that we had but I don’t really care how bad you’re hurting, Peter. Not when you broke me first.”

There were tears in your eyes and your heart was heavy. How could he do this to you? You were over him now and then he comes and pull this stunt. You were also very angry.

“Y/N, please. I—”

“I don’t want to heart it, Parker! Leave me alone! I mean it, Peter. Don’t talk to me anymore, don’t look at me in the halls or in our classes. Don’t even think about me. It’s over Peter. Find your dignity while you’re at it.” You spat and purposely pushed his shoulder roughly with yours.

You tried to ignore the whispers as you started to speed walk to the nearest restroom, your class long forgotten.

You tried to hold in your sob as your thoughts began to eat you alive. But you couldn’t hold back as it pried its way to the surface. You didn’t care about if the floor was dirty as you slid down to hug your knees. All you could think was screw Peter Parker. This wasn’t the Peter you knew. Peter would never publicly humiliate you and turn you into a joke. But he did.

What did you think would happen?

I’ll never let you have it

What did you think would happen?

You had to remind yourself that he in fact did do those things. You were a game to Peter, it seemed. His second choice. And it hurt, you hate to admit that it hurt.

“Y/N.” MJ walked into the bathroom and sighed when she saw you on the floor.

“I-Is the whole sch-school talking ab-about me?” You hiccuped and she placed a hand on your knee and gently rubbed her hand back and forth.

“The only thing they’re saying is how Peter’s a jackass and you don’t deserve that.” You sighed and nodded and tried to brush your tears away.

“I just can’t believe he would d-do this to me. It’s like i’m a jo-joke.” You sniffled and MJ scoffed. “He’s such a dick. Once I get my hands on him—”

“No, MJ. It’s fine. I gave him a piece of my mind already.” You smiled weakly at her and she helped you off the floor. She shook her head with a scowl and then snorted.

“What?”

“Once Harry hears about his little stunt, Peter is done for.”

Your eyes widened as you thought about Harry. He tolerated Peter because of you and once he hears what happened, you have a good idea what he’d do.

“My god, I have to call him. But he’s in a stupid high class professional meeting.” You whipped out your phone and went to his contact. You couldn’t call him but you thought a text should be enough until you see him later.

‘Don’t freak out...Peter asked me out again

BUT!!!! I obviously said no and handled to situation!

So when you come to school tomorrow and hear about the drama pls don’t pummel Peters face in ??? <3’

“Hm. That should hold him off. Let’s skip class and go watch the cheerleaders fall from their pyramid.” You tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing.

“Yeah, i’m down for that.” MJ smiled at you and started to walk out of the bathroom.

You sighed and thought about if Peter was hurting right now. But then you shook your head.

But I don’t really care how bad it hurts

When you broke me first

He broke you first and now he had to deal with the aftermath, not you.

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 16: Mini Elvis

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot. "Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed." "You knew it was a trap," Percy hissed. Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV." Taking the shield from Percy I shoved it at him. "You're a jerk." Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back. "See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas." The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS. Percy said, "You're kidding." Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job." He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos. Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—" "Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving him his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot." I could see Percy gritting his teeth. It was probably a deadly insult to refuse something from a god, but I also didn't want anything that Ares had touched. Reluctantly, he swung the bag over his shoulder. I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us. Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAWS BEATS UP DEFENSELESS BIKER. "You owe us one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep my voice level. "You promised me information about our parents." "You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "They're not dead." The ground seemed to spin beneath me. "What do you mean?" "I mean Percy's mom was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept. As for yours, I saw them myself. Upstairs with the big guys. Why do you think you're causing one of the biggest uproar up there? They're refusing to tell who your parent is. No matter how much cut." He smirked. "What...?" Percy and the others must've seen something as they all held me back. "What are they doing to them?" I could feel the ground shake as Percy's grip on me tighten. We'll save them... calm down. Not the hero. Us. So calm down. "Calm down Y/N." Percy whispered. The ground stopped shaking and took a deep breath. "I will make you all kneel." I said. He looked at me confusedly. Then he shrug it off then laughed, "Oh yeah? can't wait, kid." Percy gripped my shoulder. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues." Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. I felt a hot wind in my hair. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back." He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street. Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy." "I don't care." "You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god." "Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..." He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck. "If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry." I didn't like it, but we had no better option. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver. We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Riptide. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for. Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL! Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur. "This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?" He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and we would've helped him, but just then the trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down. We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than those turnips. I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then Percy used Riptide to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used my knife to cut the balloon off his horn. Annabeth wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night. Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuff Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly; I tried to cheer myself up by concentrating on the fact that we were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. We could make it in plenty of time. On the other hand, I had no idea what to expect next. The gods kept toying with me. At least Hephaestus had the decency to be honest about it—he'd put up cameras and advertised me as entertainment. But even when the cameras weren't rolling, I had a feeling my quest was being watched. I was a source of amusement for the gods. And it wasn't helping knowing they're hurting my parents. Here I was risking my life for them and what are they doing? "Hey," Percy cooed, "We'll save them. No matter what. I promised you that." "Okay." Percy pulled me closer until I was resting on him. Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, sorry I wasn't much help back at the park... I could've helped getting you guys out... It's just..." She shuddered. "Spiders." "Because of the Arachne story," I guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?" She nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things." "We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying. All we did was grab the shield." I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?" Annabeth, Percy and I laughed. She pulled apart an Oreo, handed me and Percy a half each. "In the Iris message... did Luke really say nothing?" I munched my cookie and thought about how to answer. The conversation via rainbow had bothered me all evening. "Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree." Percy answered. In the dim bronze light of the sword blade, it was hard to read their expressions. Grover let out a mournful bray. "I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along." "You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus." He nodded glumly. "And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp..." Percy looked at Annabeth. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?" She put down her Oreo, uneaten. "Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us." "I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker..." "Stop it," Annabeth said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either." "She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so." "Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair." "Percy's right," Annabeth said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says." Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy." "You're not lame," Annabeth insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now." She kicked me in the shin. "Yeah," I said, which I would've done even without the kick. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and Percy, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan. I mean, you found me despite my scentlessness... is that a word?" Percy muffled a laugh. I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep. "How does he do that?" I marveled. "I don't know," Annabeth said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him." "I meant it." We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully. Percy didn't take long to fall asleep. Annabeth rubbed her necklace like she was thinking deep, strategic thoughts. "That pine-tree bead," I said. "Is that from your first year?" She looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing. "Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...." "And the college ring is your father's?" "That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." "You don't have to tell me." "No... it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her.... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him." "That doesn't sound so bad." "Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain." "You shouldn't give up," I told her. "You should write him a letter or something." "Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with." We passed another few miles of silence. "Luke actually told me about you two coming to camp already." "Really?" She looked at me amazed. "You two must've gotten close fast." "Well, I don't know. I feel like I had to talk to Luke. Like I had to be there for him. The same with Percy." We have to be there for both "You're not wrong. I'm not sure how I'd be without your help." Percy yawned. "Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to handle him." Annabeth glared at him. I laughed, "I think you two are cute." Both of them blushed and said some excuse to disprove me. Which then turned into them showing off who's better than who. "If I'm dating anyone it'll be Y/N!" Both of them huffed and glared at each other. I shook my head and smiled. At least I've gotten new friends out of this. "So," Percy trailed off. "If the gods fight," he said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?" Annabeth put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you." "Why?" "Because Y/N will and whether I like it or not you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?" "That's all Mr. Peabody." "Shut up, Droopy." I felt her rest on my shoulder and she fell asleep. "Am I that comfortable?" "Yeah," Percy laughed as he rested on my lap. I had trouble following their example, with Grover snoring and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes. ~~~ I woke with a start. I was second one awake. Grover was talking to the antelope. "Morning?" "Everyone had the Y/N privilege except me?" "You fell asleep first." I stroked both Annabeth and Percy's hair, which unfortunately woke up Annabeth. "Sorry about that." "It's fine." She yawned. She brought out some Oreo and handed me one. Until the truck stopped. "They're checking the animals aren't they?" Annabeth froze. I shook Percy's shoulder. "The truck's stopped," I said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals." "Hide!" Annabeth hissed. She had it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover, Percy and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like turnips. The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in. "Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes. "You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face. The lion roared in indignation. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said. Next to me, under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous. The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!" The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at us. There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer. The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?" A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?" "What are you banging for?" Knock, knock, knock. Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?" Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer. She said, "This transport business can't be legal." "No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!" "We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and Annabeth both looked at Percy, waiting for his say. "Percy, open the lock." I snapped at his face. Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. He grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage. The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and bowed. Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas. Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!" "Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said. "The other animals first," Grover said. I cut the locks with my knife which wasn't as easy as what Percy had done. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra. "Good luck," I told the animals. The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets. Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos. "Will the animals be okay?" I asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all—" "Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them." "Meaning?" "Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live." "Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked. "It only works on wild animals." "So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned. "Hey!" He protested. "Kidding," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck." We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention. We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick. I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west. We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure. The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?" I'd learned to be suspicious, the last week or so. I figured anybody might be a monster or a god. But my knife wasn't glowing so... I figured. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa." The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine. "Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key." I stammered, "Um, but..." "No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your Lotus Cash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides." He handed us each a green plastic credit card. I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids. But I took the card and said, "How much is on here?" His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?" "I mean, when does it run out of cash?" He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay." We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this. "Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..." "Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet." There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange. I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes, ate a bag of chips, drank three Cokes, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time. Search and find them Huh? Look for them and warn them I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth, Percy and Grover had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, Percy looked like he was having a headache, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel. "Percy you okay?" "Yeah it's just.... All those stations," he told Annabeth, "and she turn on National Geographic." "It's interesting." "I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place." Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again. "So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?" Percy and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic Lotus Cash cards. "Play time," I said. I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. I came from a relatively poor family. Our idea of a splurge was eating out at Burger King and renting a video. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it. I spent most of my time playing and... looking for someone I think. I bungee-jumped the lobby five or six times, snowboarded the artificial ski slope, and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it, but Annabeth loved it. Percy was playing with Grover. I'm not sure when I first realized something was wrong. Probably, it was when I noticed the guy standing next to me at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, I guess, but his clothes were weird. I thought he was some Elvis impersonator's son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping, and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night. When he saw me he gave a smirk and invited me to play a game of sharpshooters together and he said, "Groovy, man. Been here two weeks, and the games keep getting better and better." Groovy? Later, while we were talking, I said something was "sick," and he looked at me kind of startled, as if he'd never heard the word used that way before. He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as I started asking him questions he got bored with me and started to go back to the computer screen. I said, "Hey, Darrin?" "What?" "What year is it?" He frowned at me. "In the game?" "No. In real life." He had to think about it. "1977." "No," I said, getting a little scared. "Really." "Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening." After that he totally ignored me. I started talking to people, and I found it wasn't easy. They were glued to the TV screen, or the video game, or their food, or whatever. I found a guy who told me it was 1985. Another guy told me it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn't been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn't really know and they didn't care. Then it occurred to me: how long had I been here? It seemed like only a couple of hours, but was it? I then tried to move, but I bumped into a girl. "I'm sorry!" She said. "Hey, no prob." "Oh... uhm... No prob?" "I--- No problem. Say Uh... I kinda lost track of date. What's the year again?" "Huh? It's 1930. Okay, I'm sorry I have to go. I'm looking for someone." Everyone is important in our story "Did you say something?" I go by Y/N L/N, you'll find the one you're looking for at the zombie shooting game. I left her alone and confused. I didn't know why. But I knew now this place is wrong. I tried to remember why we were here. We were going to Los Angeles. We were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. My parents... for a scary second, I had trouble remembering their names. I had to save them. I found Percy first. "There's something wrong." We said at the same time. "Years?" He asked. I nodded. We then looked for the others. We found Annabeth still building her city. "Come on," Percy told her. "We've got to get out of here." No response. I shook her. "Annabeth?" She looked up, annoyed. "What? "We need to leave." "Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—" "This place is a trap." She didn't respond until I shook her again. "What?" "Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!" "Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes." "Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever." "So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game. "Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy. I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders." That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—" "I don't know, but we've got to find Grover." We went searching, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter. "Grover!" we both shouted. He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!" "Grover!" He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. I looked at Percy, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!" The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?" "We're leaving," I told him. "Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members." He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forget my parents, and our quest, and maybe even my own name. I'd be playing virtual rifleman with groovy Disco Darrin forever. Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks." We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once.... Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert. I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth. We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days. We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

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