#oh yeah i want to make a female characters pack too. sorry women

[conbiniclub]

i made yugioh stickers of every master duel anime series!

available at our online shop here :)

i want to draw more but not sure of who else, i do want to make a "villains" pack of the dark signers and yami characters but havent got any other ideas

[solarhysm]

"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]

one shot

> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

> pairing: jungkook x reader

> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)

> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)

> word count: 2.8k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone at his parent’s house. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.

Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.

Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.

“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.

Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.

“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.

Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.

As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”

“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”

“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”

“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”

“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.

“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.

“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.

“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.

His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.

“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.

“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.

“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.

You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.

“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.

You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.

“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”

“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.

“Hm, you?”

“Hm.”

You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.

“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.

“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he replies.

“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I came with some friends.”

“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”

“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”

Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.

“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.

You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.

You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.

After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?

Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.

He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.

“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.

“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”

“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.

“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.

“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.

“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.

Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.

“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.

You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.

He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.

“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.

“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”

“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.

He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.

His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.

When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”

“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.

Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.

“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.

“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.

The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.

“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“

You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.

“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.

For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.

“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”

You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.

“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.

“Jungkook. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza

[wandaswifeyforlifey]

Hey could I request a Brie Larson x r where they meet at the set of Avengers endgame and they both have a crush on each other and their co stars make fun of them and they just blush and it's really

A/n: Thank you for requesting this! I try to write them within 24hrs of either the request being sent or me seeing the request so sorry if this is a bit later. I do most of my writing at like 12-5 am so some of it might be shitty lol. I love doing requests tho and will always try my best to make them work for your taste.

Word Count: 1048

Warnings: None really, just pure fluff

Ship: Brie Larson x Reader

"You better get up soon or you're gonna be late!" Called Scarlett from downstairs. Scarlett and you had met on the set of one of your first movies and quickly began to hang out more and more until you decided to be roommates. You had finished shooting Avengers: Infinity War about 2 months ago and were exactly 2 weeks into filming Avengers: Endgame which you were pretty excited about because you would get to film with some actors that you never had before.

"Coming!" You shouted back. Sadly, you weren't quite adjusted to the earlier mornings yet which definitely wasn't helpful considering you would be doing tiring work all day. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Hey sleepyhead," Scarlett smirked at me as she cooked her omelette.

"Any news that could redeem my mood this morning?"

"Well… you are filming the 'female empowerment' scene today. You've got to be pretty excited to be acting with some new people, right?"

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot about that. I've got to admit Scar, that has perked me up a bit so thank you."

"Wow, you don't need to sound so surprised." She laughed.

You made yourself a coffee, had some cereal then went to have a shower. You put on a comfortable outfit considering as soon as you get on set you'll get your costume and makeup done.

Once you arrived you were swarmed with people filling you in on the scenes and telling you where you needed to go but they were all talking over each other so you understood nothing. Thank god I have my assistant, you thought to yourself.

*2 hours later*

You had your hair and makeup finished when you heard a knock on your trailer door.

"Come in!" You called while wondering who could possibly be seeing you when your assistant was on their break and you were already prepared to film.

"Hey, Y/n? I'm Brie. I just wanted to introduce myself before we started shooting."

You were just looking at her with pure adoration as the most beautiful woman you had ever seen stepped in.

"Y/n?"

"O-oh, yeah, sorry, hi." You cleared your throat because you noticed you were staring. "So I assume you're doing the all-female scene with me?"

You moved along your sofa so that she could sit down next to you.

"Yeah, actually and I'm super excited for it. I think it's brilliant to team up all the female superheroes."

"I could not agree more! But it sucks that Natasha isn't in it."

"Wait, she isn't?"

"No, I was chatting with Scarjo this morning, because we share an apartment, and she said her character wouldn't be in it."

"Oh are you and Scarlett, like, a thing? Because it would be totally fine if you were and I just didn't know your were interested in women and-"

"Hey, hey slow down," you laughed, "no me and Scar aren't a thing but I am interested in women."

"Me too! I don't really like to use labels because I find them too constricting though."

The conversation died down but not in an uncomfortable way, more in a content way. You stared into each other’s eyes until Brie said:

"Anyway. I should really get going. I haven't even got my makeup done yet." She spoke hurriedly and quickly left the trailer. You weren't sure how to feel about her sudden departure but deep down it hurt you a little. Why would she leave so quickly if we were having a nice time? Did she find it uncomfortable? I really hope the conversation ended positively in her books too, you thought.

You shot a couple of scenes before the all-women scene and took a break just before it to talk to Scarlett.

"Hey Scar, have you seen Brie? She came into my trailer to chat a bit and it seemed like we were having a really nice time but then she just left all of a sudden."

"Uh, no I don't think I have since our second scene but it sounded like you had a good time, eh?" She smirked and nudged you. You knew she noticed how concerned you were about Brie.

"Fine, maybe I thought she was really pretty and sweet but I don't know how she feels."

"Well from the glances she sent you during our first and second scenes I’d say she likes you back.”

“I never said I liked her, ok? I just said I thought she was amazing and charming and attractive and stuff.”

“That’s literally the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I need Y/n and Brie over here please? You guys are going to be opening the Female Avengers Unite scene so we’re just going to give you a little run-through,” shouted Joe Russo from across the set.

“Oo-ooh you enjoy yourself, Y/n.” taunted Scarlett. You playfully stuck your tongue out at her as you walked over.

*Once shooting was done for the day*

Yet again you heard a knock on your door as you were just finishing packing your stuff up to leave.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, again,” announced Brie as she stepped in. This time though, she wouldn’t make eye contact with you and seemed to be rather nervous.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it's just, um… so Scarlett told me how you felt after I left and I felt pretty bad so I just thought I should come back and apologise and tell you that it wasn’t your fault, it had nothing to do with you. I promise.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to apologise! I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I absolutely didn’t mean to.”

You saw the heat rise in her cheeks.

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t just come here to apologise. I came here to tell you the truth. Okay… I just need to get this off my chest. I think I have feelings for you.” She looked at you hopefully, only to have a blank stare in return. You weren’t sure what to say. You were so overwhelmed with excitement and happiness that you just stood up and hugged her. Burying your face in the crook of her neck you whispered, “I want to stay in this moment forever.”

If you want to be added to my taglist ask/message me!

[roswellnmsource]

Lily Cowles Talks Stunt Work on Roswell, New Mexico & the Action-Packed Final Episodes This Season

So, finding out that there's been another alien Roswell really threw the audience for a loop. What were you thinking when you heard that there would be another alien in town?

I mean, I was like, finally. I'm ready for a little new alien blood in the mix, like let's stir it up. We've had our little pod squad, and we have this super tight little dynamic, and it's been pretty insular. They've had to keep everything to themselves, and so I think finding out that there's another person that's like them, another alien. How exciting.

What are the implications? This might change everything. I was really excited about it. I'm like, let's go, plus he's super cute, so.

That's very true. Can you preview what's next for Isobel and everyone as they process this new development?

Yeah, well, I think Isobel is...I think her initial reaction she's excited to bring someone new into the fold. And it's a little more complicated than that. We have a conversation you see with Isobel and Kyle, where he sort of is like, you might want to take this a little slow because this is a man of God.

This is a man whose vocation is faith-based. And to tell him that he's an alien might kind of complicate his life.

So, how much do you really want to ruin someone's life by telling them that they're an alien or change it for the better but I think Isobel is looking forward to kind of bringing someone newer to the fold and wants to share everything and learn from him.

And she's pretty enthusiastic about it. And it's going to have to learn how to handle that with grace and tack, which I think can sometimes be difficult for her. I know she can sometimes be quite straightforward with things.

Beyond that, Isobel is going on a date in this episode, which is so exciting for her. And I think she's going to be faced with having to break down some of the walls that she's built up that she's been working on. So, I'm kind of like personal internal conflict, but also a lot of opportunity.

And I think our writers handle it all so well, and it's going to unfold in a very fun way.

Sure. So, family is very important to not only the fabric of Roswell but to Isobel in particular. Can you tell us a bit about what family means to Isobel?

Yeah. I mean, I think Isobel has always had to lean so much on her brothers. There may have been the small amount of codependency. You might say with the trio because they have this enormous secret, they can't share with anybody else.

I mean, me personally, I have so many friends. I like to go around and talk about all my problems and everything with all my friends, but Isobel doesn't have as many people, or she didn't up until recently that she could talk about these things with, so her family was sort of everything for her.

These two people who understood who she was and saw her for who she truly was.

For the rest of the world, she had to, for many years of her life, kind of wear this mask and do a kind of performance of something that was sort of half-truth. Now, her circle has expanded a bit over the seasons of Roswell, which has been great—adding friends like Maria and Rosa and Kyle, Alex, and of course, Liz.

We've gotten all this new group of people that can support her. But I think the first 25 years of her life were basically just her and her brothers. And so, that loyalty goes really deep, and I think it will always be the trump card for her. I think it will always take precedent over everything else, which can be good, and it can be bad.

Yeah. And that kind of leads me into my next question, which is that Isobel has some of the best dynamics on the show. From Isobel and Michael and their brother, sister bond. And obviously Isobel and Max and this new bond now with Maria. What's your favorite Isobel dynamic?

It's hard to pick one because I love them all so much. I love working with Amber. I love the Isobel and Rosa dynamic so much because it's...there's so many layers in there. There's definitely the 'Oops. I'm sorry that I murdered you with your friends'.

But then also, Isobel kind of guiding her in Rosa's journey learning about her powers, and I think Isobel really took her under her wing. And I think that means a lot to Isobel to be able to be a guide for someone and somebody's mentor. But as time has gone on, the tables have also been turning.

There are lots of times when Rosa has been a mentor to Isobel.

And I love the female dynamics, that is... it's so rich. There's so much in there. Two women who are learning from each other and growing and supportive of each other, and challenging each other to be better. And it comes from this really complicated history that they were able to overcome.

So, to me, that sort of female dynamic is just like, oh, I love to see that.

I love Isobel and Kyle together too. It's really fun. Isobel knows how to shoot. She comes in just with so much energy. And I think there's something that happens. There's some kind of chemistry there, right? There's something, and it all maybe started at Planet Seven.

But, I think Kyle is someone that Isobel really trusts and leans on, and he's like this solid foundation for her, like a real confidant. But then there's more to it than that.

And there's something that's just, it's hard to put your finger on with them, but whenever I'm working with Michael Trevino, the scenes just...we find these little places that things just kind of pop and these unexpected moments come up and it feels like a really complex dynamic.

And I'm excited to see where that goes.

For sure. I got to talk to Michael, and he said very similarly that you guys had a really great dynamic, and he'd like to see more Kyle and Isobel scenes.

You know, give the world what they want! How bout it, Roswell!

Yes! So, Isobel has gone on quite the journey throughout the course of Roswell, and throughout season three as well, we've seen as she's dealt with Jones. So, can you speak to Isobel's resilience and how we will continue to see her growth?

Yeah, absolutely. Playing Isobel has been such an honor because it's a story that I think is so powerful for so many women. She began as this kind of Barbie doll. She was very performative, had this perfect little mask on. She was kind of closed off to the world but had this way of acting that seemed right.

And I think that's the dynamic that a lot of women can relate to.

It's like wanting to come off as being sort of perfect and having this veneer that seems like everything is good, but you're really disconnected from this deep, authentic truth that might be a lot more complicated and maybe messier, but you know what Isobel had to go through in Season One with Noah, it just rips that all off.

I mean, it wasn't by choice.

It happened to her. She was definitely victimized by the thing, and she had basically no other choice but to grow and adapt. And it gave her an enormous amount of freedom. And so often, suffering is terrible, you wouldn't wish it on anyone, and yet it can also lead to enormous amounts of growth.

And that's what I got to see with Isobel that she had to pick herself back up and connect with those deep parts of herself that she'd kind of been denying her whole life. And become strong. You have to find that strength within herself and not just leaning on the men around her.

She didn't have any female friends, and she was pretty co-dependent with all the men in her life. And Season Two, we saw Isobel discovering herself on her own terms.

And I think it's such an incredible gift that the writers gave to this show to see a female doing that, to find her way on her own terms and sort of have to relearn everything and say, "Well, who am I? What do I want? And how do I get that?"

And now we're just seeing her continuing down that path, she's becoming this warrior, she's becoming this total badass, and I think there's never like an end to it.

It's not like she started out like this, and now it's like the end of the story, 'Hooray! She found herself, and now she's like a badass warrior.' It's in Season Three, I think we're seeing her struggling with what does it mean to be a warrior? What does it mean to try to be a strong female?

How much are we suddenly becoming too self-protective when we begin to build this armor where we're making sure that no one's going to hurt us again? Well, is that armor preventing us from also being vulnerable with other people?

And I think the writers have been so gracious to give this arc to a female character that's been so multifaceted.

So, I'm just so grateful. I can't wait to see where Isobel goes, and she just keeps evolving and changing and shedding her skin and becoming something new, and like I said, it's never like a destination; it's all about the journey. So that's been really fun as an actor to be able to play with.

I have to ask about the stunts in episode eight because the scenes between you and Nathan were fantastic. How was it to shoot those scenes?

Oh my God, it was so much fun. Season Two, I had told Carina, our showrunner at the time, girl put me in some action stuff because I had some martial arts background. And after everything that had happened to Isobel, I was like it'd be great for her to become more empowered in her own physical body too.

So that, we started to kind of build the foundation there, and we're seeing it now paying off, all of this training that Isobel is always talking about. We're finally seeing her in action.

In that episode, in 3x08, directed by Benjamin Bray Hernandez, it was so incredible to actually be able to do this stunt work and with Nathan, who's a great, great stunt guy too.

I mean, I swear in another life, he would like to be a stuntman, Nathan. But the two of us actually got to do most of our own stuff.

I mean all of the pool cue, all of the hand to hand. There were a couple of things that a stunt person came in when we did the backflip over the table. We're like, yeah, that's not to break your neck during that. But besides that, everything was us, and it was so much fun to work with a director who was himself a stuntman.

So, he knew how to really direct.

Every strike needs to be telling a story and the way that he filmed it on the actual film, the lens that he was using. All of this stuff was just, it was like a masterclass in stunt work. So much fun, I was so sore, and while I thought that we were using pool cues, I was like, "I'm sorry, I have never used a pool cue in a fight."

And of course we got on the set, and Nathan from Texas, is there whipping it all around in his hand, spinning the pool cue, homie has been in like 15 pool bar fights, and I'm like, "How do you hold it?"

But I think we're a pretty good match-up, and there's more to come between Nathan and I. I'm so grateful. He's an incredible partner to work with. I feel so safe with him. I did one time jab him with the butt of my pool cue pretty hard in the groin.

So, sorry for that, Nathan. But besides that, it was such a fun experience, and I'd love to do more of that.

That's amazing. Outside of Isobel's storyline this season, has there been another story that you've really enjoyed that's played out in Season Three?

I mean, all of it is so compelling.

I've loved seeing, in this last episode, we saw Alex taking on so many of the demons that I think this beautiful parallel storyline of Alex and Michael, both working through the traumas of their parents, what they've inherited from their parents. Michael learning that he is the son of this evil dictator, but his mother is maybe this amazing hero.

And Alex working through the trauma of what his father was.

And I think that a compelling, compelling story is what we inherit from our parents and what we choose to move forward with or what we want to rebel against.

Do we become our parents, or are we given the opportunity to change them, fix their mistakes? And Kyle is dealing with this too with his father and the Valenti code and all of that.

So, I love that the lineage, the kind of questioning of how lineage proceeds through us and what our obligation is to the family line, I think that's beautiful.

And last question for me, with the finale on the horizon, what can the audience expect from these last batches of episodes?

Oh my gosh. Stuff gets so crazy, Whitney! It pops off. I mean, filming it was some of the most intense work I've ever done. We were like Marines. We were like Navy seals. We bonded so hard over just the sheer physical, emotional, and psychological difficulty that we all have to go through over these next few episodes.

It's full of action. It is full of suspense. It's going to be such a roller coaster for the audience, and I cannot wait for them to see it. It's going to be a huge payoff. Our writers did an incredible job, and yeah, I think it's just going to knock people's socks off.

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter three: exotic pets

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 3.4K

A/N: i hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you so much for your support. things are going to start ramping up on the whole slow burn angle from here. once again i must thank the fabulous @ladyartemesia​​ for both this killer graphic and beta reading for me -- as well as the amazing @taetaewonderland​​. pouring out a sunkist in your honor today xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

********************

It’s funny how people believe the shit they see in movies.

For instance, most film fans think it’s entirely possible to break a bottle over someone’s head.  One character grabs for an empty beer during a fight and the glass explodes in dramatic fashion with just one crack across another character’s skull.

You know better.

You know there’s way too much give to the human body to shatter glass like that.  

If you want to break a bottle you’ve got to connect with something much harder. The corner of a table.  A fireplace mantle.  That’s how it works in the real world.

You stare into the mirror and run the pad of one finger along the raised scar that mars your left collarbone.  All these years later and it’s paler and smoother but it’s still hideous, taunting you in your reflection.  

Today you cover it with an oversized scarf carefully matched to a silk blouse. Tomorrow it will be a turtleneck.  You’ve come up with dozens of ways to hide the ruined skin, but there’s never going to be a way to get rid of it.

It will always be a physical reminder that there are some pieces of your past you can never leave behind.

************************

Hoseok has a cold.

There was extra gravel in his voice this morning as he went over your schedule for the day. You can detect the faint scent of a cough drop in the shared air of his car.

But he doesn’t mention it and neither do you.

This morning, you’re glad for it -- glad for the absence of small talk.

In a few minutes, you get to walk into your boss’s office and announce that half the evidence in what should be a home-run case has vanished into thin air.  You have to pretend to have no idea why someone would want to sabotage a seemingly minor prosecution of a couple of idiot gangsters and you have to do it without so much as hinting at your family’s connection to organized crime in this town.

There’s a knot in your stomach so tight you feel nauseous.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with an incoming call from the mount on the dash and he frowns for a split-second before sending it to voicemail.  One minute later it buzzes again and he rejects it again.  Seconds later and he makes it three in a row.

You know damned well that if those calls were about business, Hoseok would have answered them right away.  The knot in your stomach tightens even more and you turn your head to stare out of the window.

It’s an unfair situation, this arrangement.  Hoseok has access to every corner of your life while you don’t know a damned thing about him.  Who would he be going home to every night if he weren’t under orders to stay with you?  Who is waiting for him when this is all over?

Someone, certainly.

Willing women are in abundance in his line of work.  You grew up around them -- a revolving door of beautiful, vulnerable girls who thought nothing of trading their bodies for gifts and cash. Women so eager for security and love they accepted whatever scraps were thrown their way.  

In a way, you were like them -- a motherless little girl living in the midst of male-dominated chaos and desperate for female connection.  You watched the way they styled their hair and applied their makeup and how they went about the myriad tasks of being women.  Then inevitably you’d grow too attached too fast only to have your heart broken when one day they just disappeared.  

And they always disappeared.

You wonder what the woman trying to reach Hoseok this morning looks like.  You wonder if she’s angry that he’s had to be away so long.  You wonder what version she gets of him and how different it must be from the version you get.  The knot in your stomach is replaced by something else.

Something you’d rather not examine too closely.

**************************

“You should let me take you to lunch.”

Donghyuk interrupts what must be the worst morning of your entire career without so much as a knock or a hello.  He drops into the empty chair in your office uninvited and doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“We could ditch the busy work, slip out the back entrance -- ” he grins conspiratorially,  “ -- have a two-martini meal at Congdu and then sneak into the bathroom to fool around.  What do you think?”

You groan out loud. You are not in the mood for this shit right now.

“This is not a good time, ‘Hyuk.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I heard.”

Of course he’s heard. Everyone in a hundred-foot radius has heard. To say your bosses were displeased with the bomb you dropped on them this morning is an understatement.

“So then why are you in my office asking me to go day drinking?  Do you want me to be fired?”

“Of course not,” he says, looking offended. “I just thought you deserved a break from the madness for a minute.”

You laugh without a hint of humor.

“I’m going to get a permanent break from the madness if I don’t rescue this case somehow.  So no -- no lunch today.  Probably no lunch for the next six months, actually.”

Donghyuk frowns.

“Dinner, then?  There’s a new spot in Gangnam I’ve been wanting to try. We could go tomorrow night.”

Christ, the man is insistent these days.

You are too mentally worn out to figure out why your casual arrangement with Donghyuk feels a hell of a lot less casual of late.  If he’s suddenly decided he wants more than just the occasional meal-to-mattress thing you’ve enjoyed for months, he’s in for a disappointment.  You are tapped out.

“I’ve got -- It’s just complicated for me right now,” you manage.

“Yeah, I get it,” he agrees sympathetically. “The bodyguard thing, right?”

“Right,” you repeat slowly, mind suddenly flipping back to Hoseok. Back to this morning’s car ride.

Back to those missed calls.

Something childish and petty and unbecoming stirs inside of you.

“You know what? Dinner tomorrow night could work, actually.”

Donghyuk leans back and smiles wide.

“Great.”

*********************

Hoseok’s cold hasn’t improved.

The ride to the restaurant is radio silent, but for the sound of his occasional sniffle.  You could have sworn you saw actual displeasure cross his face when you’d asked him to take you to meet Donghyuk tonight.  It feels like the air between you is crackling with tension.  

But it’s probably your imagination.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the car door behind you, nothing as he holds the door to the restaurant open for you, and nothing when you thank him as you step inside.

Donghyuk has a table waiting. No small feat because this place is packed.  

It’s a brand-new restaurant and apparently one of the most expensive and coveted dining spots in the city.  In an instant, it dawns on you that there’s no table for Hoseok.  You turn to ask him where he wants to be, but he brushes past you to take a seat at the bar.

Again, he says nothing.

You huff your frustration under your breath as you slide into the chair across from Donghyuk.  He’s got a snifter of what’s sure to be some pricey brandy in his hand.

“Germain-Robin Select Barrel,” he declares, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip.  “Best stuff in town.”

Of course it is.  

Donghyuk is accustomed to having only the best of the best; a natural by-product of his upbringing.  You’ve known one another since you were pupils at the same prep school, living parallel lives. You both had expensive homes and pricey tutors and fancy clothes -- but his family graced the pages of the society magazines while yours graced the pages of the newspapers.

This thing you have with him is supposed to be easy; an uncomplicated diversion. But lately, it's a hell of a lot less satisfying than it used to be.  Either Donghyuk is really getting more self-absorbed and less interesting -- or you are just starting to not give a shit about anything he has to say.

He’s droning on about something golf-related when you tune out completely. Your eyes wander to Hoseok at the bar.  

He still hasn’t ordered anything to eat and a drink sits untouched on the bartop.

“Sharp dresser, that guy.”

“What?”

You swing your focus back to Donghyuk like you’ve just come out of a trance.

“The bodyguard,” he says around a fork full of food.  “He’s got pretty good taste for some street gangster. I should find out where he shops.”

You’re caught by surprise -- by his comment, by the way it makes your chest tighten.  By the force of the second-hand embarrassment you suddenly feel on behalf of Hoseok.

“He’s not some -- street gangster,” you say quietly, slowly.

“Oh, he’s not?” Donghyuk asks, looking genuinely confused.  “He’s not one of your brother’s guys?”

Red-hot anger blossoms inside of you so fast you can barely contain it.  You stare Donghyuk down with the most venomous look you can muster.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” you bite out. “But you have no clue what you’re talking about. And keep any mention of my brother out of your mouth.”

“Jeez, sorry,” Donghyuk fires back, lifting his hands in surrender.  “I didn’t realize I was touching on a nerve. I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”

You jerk out of the chair so abruptly it nearly falls back.  The napkin in your lap falls to the floor and the people sitting at the tables nearby stop to look. Donghyuk’s mouth falls open with surprise.

“I’m done,” you grind out, grabbing for your purse.

“Sit down,” Donghyuk hisses. “You’re making a scene.”

“She said she’s done.”

You never saw Hoseok move, never registered him leaving the bar -- but when you rip your gaze away from Donghyuk, he is at your side.  

Hoseok opens his wallet and throws a pile of bills down on the table.  He doesn’t spare a glance at Donghyuk as he calmly ushers you away from the table.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

***************************

The ride home from the restaurant is just as silent as the ride there.

Hoseok drives and you stare blankly out the window as you replay Donghyuk’s words in your mind.

I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says.

Yes -- you hated your father.  You had your reasons and you had earned that right.

But Namjoon?  Never.  You could never hate your brother.  

The fact that you’d given anyone -- even Donghyuk -- reason to believe otherwise makes you feel sick to your stomach.  Shames weighs so heavy on your chest it feels like you can’t breathe.

You don’t even have the energy to devote to being embarrassed at how that whole scene played out in front of Hoseok.  By the time he walks you into your apartment, you’re just desperate to wash up and fall into bed.  Hoseok lingers in the living room but you don’t even look at him.  You head straight for your bedroom.

The tears come the moment the latch clicks closed.

Followed closely by the screams.

**********************

HOSEOK

What a shitty way to end what had really shaped up to be an enjoyable night.

Hoseok could see the moment things went south at dinner.  You’d looked disinterested from the second you sat down, distracted the entire time you ate your meal.  But then the strangest look came over you at the end, something Hoseok couldn’t quite decipher.  Until it was replaced by something he understood loud and clear from all the way across the room.

Fury.

It was way too fucking satisfying, really.  

The look on that idiot’s face when you humiliated him in front of an entire restaurant full of his shitty little peers.  The way his mouth dropped open when you told him you were done and the way his cheeks burned red when Hoseok tossed the money on the table.

That would have been the perfect way to end the night.  

But then you started screaming.

Hoseok’s body is moving before his mind does. In seconds, he’s crossed the apartment and ripped your bedroom door open.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

You are pressed against the far wall of the room, staring down at the floor.  Hoseok follows your terrified gaze down to the large black snake coiled just a few feet away.  

“Okay, wow. Fuck,” he mutters, shoving his hand through this hair, trying like hell to formulate a cohesive thought.  “Okay just...just stay calm for me, okay? Can you do that?”

You say nothing, out of screams and out of words as you stare back at him. It’s clear that no, staying calm is the last thing you can do right now but staying silent is a pretty good second option.

“I have to leave you for a second, okay?  Just one second.  Can you stay calm for me?” Hoseok repeats, taking a tentative step out the door.  “You don’t have to answer me, just nod. I’m going to be back in seconds and I’m going to get this thing out of here.  Are you with me?”  

Hoseok watches as you pull in one shaky breath and nod woodenly.  That’s all the affirmation he needs.

He runs to rip a pillowcase off one of the pillows on his bed.  When he gets back to your room, the snake has stretched it’s long body into a flat line and you look somehow more terrified than you did when he left.  

“I’m back, okay?” he reassures, even though he’s certain you already know that.  But you won’t take your eyes off that snake and he wants you to hear the artificial calm in his voice. “Don’t make any sudden moves. I’m going to get this thing into this pillowcase in my hands.”

He talks you through what he’s doing like it’s going to somehow reinforce that he’s in control when he knows that he’s anything but.  Hoseok has seen and done a lot of weird shit in this line of work, but he’s never had to wrangle a fucking snake.  He has a basic understanding of what needs to be done, but that’s still a far damned cry from actually doing it.  

He takes one deep breath and starts forward with careful steps.

The fact that the snake has uncoiled might work to his advantage, he reasons.  From this angle he can probably reach the tail without coming too close to the head.  He knows that whatever move he makes has to be fast and decisive -- and he understands instinctively that your composure relies almost entirely on him maintaining his.

He sees you clap a hand over your mouth to stop from screaming when he grabs for the snake.  The animal’s long body undulates in his grip, stronger than he expected, and he has to pull back when the snake swings its head in his direction.  The entire debacle couldn’t have lasted any more than five seconds, but by the time Hoseok gets an opportunity to pull the pillowcase over the snake’s body, it feels like an eternity.

He wonders if you could see how badly his hands were shaking the entire time.

*******************

“So wait, what kind of snake is it?”

“Fuck Yoongi, I don’t know,” Hoseok snaps, pulling the cabinets under your bathroom sink open. He rifles through the contents, checking to make sure nothing else has been left behind.

“Black. Shiny. Doesn’t look friendly.  You gonna come help me toss this apartment or do you want to talk exotic pets?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Yoongi chuckles, “and don’t do anything to that snake. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Hoseok ends the call without so much as a goodbye.  

He takes a break from inspecting your room to walk out into the living room to check on you.  You are seated cross-legged on your couch, staring into nothing.

“Yoongi is on his way,” he says, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck. “He’s going to help me do a deep dive in all the rooms.”

You don’t respond.

“You okay?”

You turn your head slowly and blink up at him like you’ve just registered the sound of his voice.  

“Uh, yeah,” you say slowly, even though you sound anything but. “I’m okay.”

Hoseok tongues his cheek. He wishes he knew what to do or what to say to make you feel more at ease.  He chides himself for the thought almost as soon as it comes.  You probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him, anyway.

“Alright,” he sighs, turning back towards your bedroom. “Just give me a minute to get through everything in here and then you can get some sleep.”

“Hoseok?”

You call to him from the couch and he turns back to face you.  

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

Something twists inside Hoseok’s stomach at the despondent look on your face.  It’s such a contrast to the look he saw tonight at the restaurant -- the fiery, angry one that made him feel like he could understand you a bit more.  He would rather see any other version of you than the one he sees right now.

“You’re welcome,” he says thickly, turning away to get back to work.

***********************

You are still sleeping when Hoseok leaves Seokjin at your apartment in his place.

Namjoon is standing at his office window this morning, like he often does when he’s thinking.  Yoongi nods when Hoseok enters the office and helps himself to the only other empty chair.

“What happened last night?” Namjoon asks, not bothering to turn away from the window.  

Yoongi shoots Hoseok a look that says you first and Hoseok returns with one of his own that says no shit, sherlock.

“There’s not much that you’re not already briefed on,” Hoseok starts, “I brought your sister home from a social outing and when we got home she found a snake on her bedroom floor. I was able to contain the snake and Yoongi and I searched every inch of the apartment after that.  Didn’t turn up anything else.”

“Any sign of forced entry?”

“No,” Hoseok admits.  “I couldn’t find any.  I have a locksmith working with Seokjin on replacing the deadbolt again this morning.”

“Right,” Namjoon says, turning away from the window to walk back to his desk.  “So that makes twice now that we’ve changed her locks, twice now that someone has managed to get in anyway.  What about the cameras outside?”

“I checked the footage,” Yoongi says. “Someone used a pole or a stick to put a physical block over the lens.  It was still up there when I checked this morning.  Duct tape.”

Namjoon scrubs a hand across his jaw, sighs out loud.

“Fuck. Where are we with tracking the Lee girl?”

Yoongi clears his throat.  “I’ve been out on a few runs so far; nothing out of the norm.  Work to home to work. I’ve got Jimin and Tae checking out some other stuff but nothing to report back yet.”

“Keep digging,” Namjoon insists. “She has everything she needs.  The knowledge and the access, but most importantly she has my sister’s trust.  That’s what worries me the most.”

He turns his attention to Hoseok.  “My sister. How is she holding up?”

Hoseok thinks back to the way you looked last night, back to that blank look on your face.

Not well.

“She’s tired,” he replies carefully. “Stressed out because she’s trying to rescue her case.  The snake shit did not help.”

“I’m sure it didn’t.”

“Speaking of which -- ” Yoongi interjects, “ -- that snake.  It’s an Indigo snake.  Not venomous.”

Namjoon lifts one eyebrow.

“I’m saying the Ssijog are not trying to hurt her, not really.  They only want to scare her into fucking up this case,” Yoongi reasons. “Trust me, they don’t want to make shit worse for themselves right now by adding a dead prosecutor to the mix.”

Hoseok winces at the logical-but-clumsy delivery of that last line.

Namjoon’s mouth pulls into a tight line as he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers.  Hoseok has worked for the man long enough to know that he’s not the type to lash out when he gets angry.  Namjoon is the type to go quiet.  

Like right now.

He narrows his eyes at Yoongi before opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re probably right about that, Yoongi,” he says in a low, careful tone.  “But let me ask you this.  Is that a bet you’re willing to make with my sister’s life on the line?”

Yoongi -- wisely -- doesn’t answer that.

****************************

tag list!

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[eleanorbloom]

First Date (Aurora Emery x MC)

Disclaimer: The characters of this story, except Rosalía, belong to Pixelberry.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Aurora Emery x f! MC (Rosalía Muñoz)

Warnings: Fluff, discussions of coming out, maybe some slight homophobia Rated: T

Word Count: 2.9k

Prompts: Day 7 of CFWC Female Characters Week, "Women In Love". Also, Day 14 of @choicesmonthlychallenge "Moonlight".

Summary: Aurora and Rosalía go on their first date after both confessed their feelings.

Author’s Note: This story follows the events of my first fanfic Until I Met You. This is not intended to be a series, but probably all my Aurora's fics will revolve around this premise story. Maaaaybe one day I'll do some rewrites, maybe not. Either way, I hope you enjoy this!

PS: I didn't proof read this, so forgive me the mess, probably I'll fix it later.

Taglist: @romereadingshop @starrystarrytrouble @penda-bear @queenelianar @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @julia-highstorms

______

It was dark when Rosalía got out of bed, and beautifully quiet. Just a murmur of some cars passing by a few blocks from there, and no major movements in the apartment.

She had woken up early to leave for the hospital with Aurora, just as she used to do before starting to avoid her.

Rosalía couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the night before. Aurora confessing her feelings, reciprocating hers. Their first kiss and all the kisses that followed after. All the sweet words, the words of reaffirmation, the promises, the doubts.

Even the unknown didn’t seem so scary now that their affections were mutual.

The lights in the kitchen were on when she approached with her bag on her shoulder, ready to leave for the hospital. Aurora was there, at the counter with two travel mugs in front of her, putting a teabag in the purple one before carefully pouring boiling water on it.

Rosalía smiled, relishing in the beautiful view she had in front of her. How lucky she was for being able to do this freely now.

When Aurora noticed her staring from the corner of her eye, she glanced up and blushed instantly, “Oh, hey.”

"Good morning," Rosalía said, leaving her bag in a stool before approaching Aurora.

"Morning Rosie, I have your coffee ready," Aurora replied and pointed to the white floral mug next to the purple one.

"Thank you. Glad to be back on this routine,” she whispered, looking intently at her.

Aurora gave her a shy smile before putting the kettle back on the stove, “Yeah, me too.”

As Rosalía sensed slight nervousness in her words, she walked toward her and took her hand in hers, "Having second thoughts?"

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You seem… Nervous.”

The taller woman released a shaky breath before responding, “Well, I am, a bit."

“Why?”

"Because I…"Aurora bit her lower lip, pondering her words. This was never easy for her, but somehow it was a lot simpler with Rosalía. To open up. "Because I like you so much and I don't wanna screw it up."

“How could you screw it up? We're just starting.”

She shook her head, "It's just… I'm not used to this. It's not personal, with James it took me some time to… get accustomed to the idea of dating someone after not doing it for years. And with you is completely different because I've wanted you for so long and I have actual feelings for you so… This really feels something new to me, besides the whole 'I've never been with a girl before', it's… Scary not knowing what to do."

Rosalía gave her a sweet smile before caressing her cheek with her thumb, "Oh, gorgeous, you're not going to screw it up just because you don't know what to do or you're new to this. I bet most couples don't have a fucking idea what to do when they start, and then just figure it out with time. And in this case, we have each other to sort it out, alright?"

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay you feel that way, and if then you feel like I am or we are going too fast, you just have to say it, okay? You can be completely honest with me."

With a warm smile on her face, Aurora nodded and then leaned down to Rosalía and pressed her lips softly on hers, "Thank you."

Rosalia didn't take long to wrap her arms around Aurora's waist, deepening the kiss, lips caressing more eagerly.

Both sighed after a few seconds.

"We should get going,” Aurora breathed an inch away from Rosalía.

"Should we keep making out in your car?"

Aurora chuckled, “Not a bad idea.”

“Maybe in the elevator too, and the lockers…”

“Mmm, greedy much?”

“Can you blame me?”

Aurora stared at her deep in the eyes and bit her lip as she tucked a strand of hair behind Rosie’s ear “No. Would be very hypocritical of me.”

Rosalia chuckled and kissed her again, “Let's go, then."

Both residents took their mugs and bags and left the apartment still in complete silence.

As Rosalía anticipated, they kissed in the elevator, in the car, and every other red streetlight they stopped before they made it to Edenbrook. And then when she parked, they leaned to kiss again.

They were completely drunk with the new blossoming love.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Rosalía asked, parting after another breathtaking kiss, “We'll wait some time to tell the others?”

Aurora stared thoughtfully at her before answering, "Personally, "I'd like to wait for a while, maybe a couple of weeks? This is all too new to me, to you, and until yesterday I was dating someone else, so… We should talk about us first. If that's okay with you, of course. If-if you think I'm being too forward or going so fast, just tell me."

”I’d love to talk about us.” Rosalía said, “What is it?” she added as she saw Aurora fidgeting her hands and then bit her lips, nervous.

"Maybe we could go… on a date? Or not a date, just… going somewhere quiet to talk, just the two of us."

“That’s definitely a date, Emery,” she chuckled, amused with her strange denial.

Aurora smiled, "Okay, yes, a date, but… not a fancy thing, not with the paraphernalia of dressing and going to a fancy dinner, maybe going somewhere after work, if that's okay to you?"

“Yeah, I like that. We can do fancy anytime, right?”

The next two days were so challenging and stressful that none of them managed to end their shift before 10 pm, and by that time they were completely wiped out to even think about going somewhere else but their beds.

"Where are we going? Or is it a surprise?” Rosalía cheerily asked leaning against the wall in the emergency staircase, when both confirmed they could clock out on time that evening.

"No, it's not a surprise," Aurora assured, smiling at her excitement, "I was thinking about this place, Club Café that is… queer-friendly."

“Oooh, interesting.”

“I thought maybe both will feel a lot more comfortable in a space like that, free of prying eyes and more… Like… Like us, maybe it will help us to get… Used to this.”

“Oh God, Aurora Emery stuttering? You look adorable, you know that? All doe-eyed.”

“This isn’t easy for me, so don’t mock me, Rosie!” Aurora reprimanded, cheeks profusely blushed.

“This isn’t easy for me either, why do you think I’m laughing like an idiot? Why am I saying these things? I’m nervous as hell!”

Aurora shook her head, and arched an eyebrow, “So, what do you think?”

Rosalia placed her arms around her neck and kissed her before replying "I think it's perfect. You couldn't have picked a better place for our first date as members of the queer community."

"You just can't stop kissing and touching me, uh?”

Rosie kissed her again more deeply, “No, I can’t. There’s something about you... about your lips… that just… pull me, you know? And I’ve been restraining myself for so many weeks, that I don’t intend to stop anymore.”

“Oh, I think you’ll have to tell me about that.”

“Of course, anything you want. Tonight. I bet you have a lot to tell me too.”

“Indeed.”

After work, Aurora took Rosalía to the aforementioned cafe in Back Bay.

Despite the cafe being packed with lots of people, groups of friends chatting, couples talking, and live music being played, the atmosphere there was really pleasant and intimate. Perfect for a first date.

Aurora and Rosalía hadn’t had the time to feel particularly worried about being seen in public together, because they’d only been at the hospital and at the apartment the last three days, and all their affections would be private until they were ready to tell their friends, but the fact that they could show their love for each other in public felt absolutely liberating and somehow reassuring. It felt right.

While they were waiting for their orders, both took a moment to appreciate the soft piano melody a woman was playing on the other side of the room.

“I’ve never been much into jazz, but the melody is beautiful,” Aurora stated.

“What music are you into? I’ve only seen you listening to classical music.”

“Some pop, rock, instrumental. I’m not much into music actually, but when I do, it’s mostly for focusing.”

And that was just the first of many questions that night. They spent the following hours talking about them, but under a light, they never knew before. They were friends first, they had shared personal stuff, some interest in career paths, food, movies, etc, but when there is romance involved, every single detail seems suddenly more interesting and necessary to learn than before. Favorite place to have a coffee, to have a drink, best spots to go hiking. Favorite song. Favorite color. Favorite movie genre.

Anything that could involve future plans between them.

They also spend the evening talking about how everything happened, how Aurora realized she liked Rosalía, with more details than what they shared a few days ago, and Rosalía told her about how she felt about their first date with James, and how that night she realized she liked her. How much she tried to forget her and how difficult it was for her to avoid her in order to get her out of her mind and heart.

“And here we are,” Aurora stated, taking her hand over the table.

“Did you have any problem with the fact that you liked me, I mean, a girl?”

Aurora stood in silence for a moment, thinking, "Not really. It felt strange that after years of liking men, I was liking a woman now. I know I'm young, and there are people who are in their fifties that realize their sexuality isn't what they thought, but… it felt really concerning the fact that you were my friend and you wouldn't reciprocate me. That I'd do things that could probably ruin our friendship, that you'd realize I like you and you'd push me away, I don't know, that sort of things."

“Exactly what I thought when I realized I liked you.”

Both laughed.

“Is kind of weird but funny how it happened the same to both of us, right?” Aurora questioned, before taking a sip of her glass of water.

“Yeah, but I’m glad it happened this weirdly, lucky way. I was worried it would take me too much time and effort to forget you. But you got the worst part, around five months.”

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t see you dating another person under my nose.”

Rosalía closed her eyes and teasingly shook her head, as if she was trying to forget those painful moments, “At least you were dating a great guy. Like, damn, you dumped James Woods for me?”

“He is great, but you’re greater,” Aurora stated, serious, “Besides, I don’t like him as I like you.”

“Oh, and how much is that?” Rosalía asked, leaning to her, and stopping just a few inches from her nose.

“A lot,” Aurora answered and then cut the distance and brushed her lips on Rosalía’s, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate mousse she had been eating. “Mmm sweet.”

After a few moments of silence, both digging in their desserts, Rosalía glanced at her with a serious expression, “What do you think will happen to you when we tell everyone?”

“What do you mean?”

"I don't know, if you have family members that may not support you in this? Considering you always identified yourself as hetero."

“Mmm well, my parents will be surprised, that’s for sure, and maybe it will take them some time to get used to it, but they won’t kick me out of the family or anything.”

“And your Aunt?”

“Aunt Harper couldn’t care less as long as I don’t lose sight of my career.”

“Cool. Good to know you’ll have the support of your family, sort of.”

“Yeah. I know this will be a surprise for everyone, that my aunt will be very surprised but she won’t judge me. It’s just that... “ Aurora paused for a moment, considering her words, “Maybe… doing something no one expected from me is what worries me. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve been acting this way for a long time. And this is something clearly no one could’ve anticipated.”

“Aurora, it’s not stupid. It’s totally understandable that you feel worried about that, you’ve always lived with so much pressure on your shoulders, that obviously you wouldn't want to add more. ”

“Precisely, but it’s not just that. I’m also afraid that… I don’t know, something that feels so natural to us, won't be to everybody, that maybe some people won’t like it. I honestly don’t care what we might have to face but it’s a shame this won’t be as easy as it is… with straight people.”

"That's true. That's maybe the only thing I fear about this. The… hate we could receive, but I'm sure it will be minimal because we'll have our friends to support us. And as long as we're together, I think we can face anything."

Aurora watched as Rosalía slid her hand over the table and took it on her own, giving it a squeeze in agreement, “What about you?”

“Well, I think my mom will take it fine, but my dad won’t see me the same again in a long time. He’ll try to ignore it.”

“Oh.”

“He’s not a bad person, but it will be really disappointing that I won’t have the life he always dreamed for me. Marrying a good man and having children. Well, I’ve known since long ago that I will disappoint him because that never was something I was particularly interested in.”

“His loss, then.”

"Yeah, but eventually he'll align his dreams with reality, and he'll find out I am happy the way I am and doing the things I do. Well, that's what I hope."

“I hope so too. I hate the idea of you suffering because your dad doesn’t accept you.”

Aurora gave her a worried look to which Rosalía tried to reassure instantly with a wide smile, “Me too, but I’m kinda used to receiving the cold shoulder for not meeting his standards. I’m the black sheep of the family, after all. This just confirms my place even more.”

Aurora arched an eyebrow “You’re the best resident of our cohort, you have the job of your dreams, and you’re the black sheep of your family? What are your other siblings, CEO of Forbes 500?”

Rosalía cackled, amused with the irony of her life, "Nothing of the sort. Actually, I'm the most successful of the five, but the only lefty that rebelled against my dad’s desires and escaped from his authoritative wing.”

“Your father really needs to sort out his priorities.”

“Yeah, I keep thinking it’s never too late for that. Let’s hope I’m not being too optimistic.”

After a few minutes, Aurora paid the bill and both left the cafe to walk around the busy streets of Back Bay. Somewhere in the middle of rustled streets and the chill of the night, Rosalía extended her hand to intertwine her fingers between Aurora's.

Aurora simply smiled and gave it a squeeze before keeping walking until they reached Boston Public Garden.

"Wow, I don't think I remember seeing it this beautiful," Aurora sighed, taking in the view of the park when they stopped in the middle of the lagoon bridge.

The streetlights and the moon were softly reflecting in the water, and a few grouped ducks were sleeping by the lagoon bank.

“Yeah, but it certainly isn’t as beautiful as you,” Rosalía whispered, looking at her deeply in the eye.

“Flatterer.”

“Just stating facts.”

Aurora chuckled, and when she realized Rosalía was serious, her brows furrowed in concern, "What is it?"

“Is it too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Her eyes widened in amazement and despite trying to articulate a response, nothing could get out of her mouth.

"I know it's our first date and we said we would take things slow but…"

Somehow, seeing Rosalía nervous and blushing gave her the strength to speak, but maybe not in the way she used to do it, “You’ve been clinging to me like a limpet since we first kissed, I don’t know how much different from being a girlfriend you’ve been behaving..”

Rosalía arched a brow, baffled by her reaction “Oh I’m sorry Miss-I-Hate-Kisses, I won’t disturb you ever again.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one that can tease when the other is nervous?"

“You called me clingy while I was asking you something serious.”

"I did. But that doesn't mean I don't like you clingy. In fact, I love that you're clingy. Maybe I like you even more because you're clingy."

Rosalía's eyes illuminated as Aurora placed her hands on her hips, pulling her closer to her body.

“What I meant to say is… it’s not too soon. Whatever doubts I could have before, now I have none, so… I’d love to be your girlfriend, Rosie.”

"Oh," it's the only thing Rosalía could say. For the first time in ages, Rosalía didn't know what to say.

“Do you wanna be mine?” Aurora asked, completely touched by her sudden speechlessness.

“I am already yours, but yes, I do. I wanna be your girlfriend, Aurora Emery.”

[waywardbeanie]

A Man of Letters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 7889

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: SPOILER if you have not seen Season 14, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series so far, I have loved writing it and watching the characters grow. I appreciate EVERY ONE OF YOU who are taking this journey with me. We are a little less than half way there so BUCKLE UP!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09​ and my mind melder, idea bouncer and my cheerleader @whatareyousearchingfordean​​ I would be lost without you both!

MASTERLIST A Man of Letters

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

                                         Dean "I Build Shit" Winchester

                                                   PO Box 323

                                             Sioux Falls, SD 57101

Dear Dean,

I decided to go up to the cabin, but don’t worry about sending letters here. I will be back at the bungalow before you mail the next one. I know this job is necessary; we talked about it for a while before you left; I think all of us are just at the end of our rope with how long it is stretching on forever. How did the raids go? I hope that they are turning up something to get this thing moving in the right direction. I’m so glad we redid the inside of the cabin, now that it is entirely different just how we want it, it doesn’t drag up all of my parents' sad memories, only the good ones. Do you remember that we had our first fight here? I think I can count on one hand the number of actual arguments we have had, looking back it seems so silly now,  kind of, but I was so angry and hurt, understandably so. Sam and I were definitely on the same team at that time. The snow is beautiful at the cabin right now; you can see about two dozen ice fishermen from the dock. Jody calls about once a week; we chat, and I know she is checking on me; I’m also sure you know she does. One of the other reasons I came up here is to get away from all of the nosy people. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think they are great, but one more question from the older people about if I ‘stopped seeing that nice boy’ or the interrogations from the women who are digging for information, I was going to freak out, so off to the cabin I went. I miss Donna too, but I’m glad you have her there. I’m sure she shared the story when she, Jody and I got drunk when they came down to check on me at the cabin during the spring, when everything was a mess. It was rough at the time, but it was a good weekend with them. 

Ugh, these sad-sack letters are killing me. I swear, the next one will be happy; I think all this time away from each other is just hard. Whoever said, “absence makes the heart grow fonder” can kiss my ass because really, all it does is make me miserable or angry, and I hate being either of those things. On a happier note, I drew a picture of the new deck. I think we should build when you come home as you asked me to months ago. I think we should make it larger than the one that is there now. Don’t worry; I can hear you laughing at me  saying, “Of course you do” I think I will close for now and bake some muffins so I can include it with this letter. Please tell everyone I said hello, and I’m seriously counting down the days until you get back here. Please stay safe and watch your ass.

I Love You,

Your Initial

20 months ago

Deans POV

After Michael possessed Dean for the second time, he locked him away inside his mind, using the same beer cooler that Michael had created as Dean's happy place to cage him up. Michael never stopped banging, never stopped trying to get through the door. Still, Dean was confident that he had him locked up for good until Billie, now known as Death, came to see him in the bunker to tell him all of his stories in the library now ended the same, with Michael breaking free and using his vessel to burn their world down, all but one. The book that Billie gave him to let him know he had some choices to make.

Dean walked into the library the next morning to find Sam sitting at the table surrounded by books. “Whatcha reading?”

“Looking for stuff on archangels, it’s pretty interesting stuff,” he commented, looking up to face his brother, a determined look resting on his face.  “Dean, we will find a way to fix this.”

“You know,” Dean gestured to the table, “I appreciate it, everything you have done, and you are doing.”

“Of course,” Sam smiled thinly, “that’s what we do, we are going to beat this. We have a lot to go through, why don’t you pull up a chair? I could use some help.”

“Actually, I thought I would go for a drive, you know me and Baby and a long stretch of road, and while I’m at it I thought I would go see Mom at Donna’s cabin, then Y/N,” he was glancing through the books on the table, doing whatever he needed not to make eye contact with his baby brother.

“Oh...okay,” Sam stuttered. “Yeah, give me a minute so I can get to a stopping point, and I will gather my stuff so we can go.”

“Well, about that,” Dean stalled, “I was hoping for some, one on one time with Mom and I just need to check on Y/N to make sure she is okay and to let her put eyes on me, so she knows I am too.”

Sam’s eyebrows knitted as he looked at his older brother; something wasn’t right, not to mention that he had Michael banging around in his head, yet, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “It will be good for you to see them, and I know they both want to see you, do whatever you need.”

Dean pressed his lips together, trying to keep the sadness at bay. “Okay.” 

As he walked around the table, he stopped behind Sam and reached around to hug him tightly for just a moment. 

Standing up, he patted his shoulder, “Take care, Sammy.” 

It was then that Sam began to realize there was more to Dean’s visits then he was telling him. The younger Winchester waited until he heard Baby leave the garage to start his search, hoping that he could find some answers to his brother’s decision to leave the bunker.

“Sam,” Y/N smiled as she picked up the phone.

“Hey Tink, how are you doing?” he asked, but she could hear an edge to his voice.

“I’m good.” She was walking around her newly finished kitchen at the cabin, wiping off the counter before she stopped and set the phone down, putting it on speaker. “You don’t sound so good. What’s going on?”

“Have you talked to Dean?”

“Yeah, Dean called last night," she thought back. "He said he was going to see your Mom, then come here, also that he wanted to work on a few things in the boathouse to clear his head. Why, Sam, what’s going on?”

���I don’t know, Tink, I’m worried,” he sighed. “Ever since we locked Michael up, he has been acting strange, and now, he’s packed up and just left when we have so much to do.”

She pulled out one of the stools from the counter and sat down, resting her elbows on the counter and holding her head up with her hands, staring at the phone. “You know how he is, Sam; He hates research when a lot is going through his head, Dean needs to move, that is how he thinks best.”

“I know, it’s just-” she could hear him running his hands through his hair, “he hugged me before he left.”

“Okay…” she scrunched her eyebrows together, “that was nice.”

“Tink, we don’t hug, you know that,” he sighed. “I mean, we do, but it’s literally a life or death thing.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know, Sam, he will be here late tonight, he is going to have dinner with your Mom first. Have you talked to her?”

“I have, Dean called her and said he would come by because he had a supply run. Maybe you’re right; it could be he needs to work in the boathouse and get moving to clear his head.”

“He and I will talk when he’s here, Sam. If I’m worried or if things don’t seem like they should, I will call you, I swear.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks, Tink,” he sighed, “talk soon.” 

Dean opened the door quietly to the cabin, the only light in the living space was above the stove, giving the area a soft glow. Dean spotted Y/N immediately asleep on the couch. Closing the door softly behind him, he sat down his bag and leaned against the wall, never taking his eyes from her. Curled in a ball, she was facing him; her hair spread on a pillow, Y/N wore a fitted tank top with a pair of plaid boxers that he laughingly referred to as her old man underwear. Her expression was peaceful, with slightly parted lips. He began to wonder if she knew how beautiful she was or how her pure heart had changed his life for the better, but most of all, he questioned if she knew how much he really loved her. Leaving his brother was hard enough, but leaving her would be the most difficult. He wiped at a tear that silently rolling down his cheek, his heart beat painfully in his chest, knowing the anguish that she and Sam would face when they find out he is gone. 

“Babe,” she heard Dean whisper, shaking her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” Y/N slowly blinked open her eyes to see him crouched next to her.

“Hey,” she smiled sleepily, “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

He brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s after 2:00 in the morning; I would have been surprised if you were awake.” He slipped his hand in hers as he pulled her from the couch. “Let’s hit the hay; I'm so tired.”

She followed him groggily as he led her into the bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind him as she crawled under the sheets and watched him strip down to his boxers. He pulled down the blankets and slid in, drawing her to his side as she snuggled in and rested her head on his chest, tugging her closer, he kissed the top of her head. Her hand started to roam his chest as she leaned in and ran her lips up his neck to his ear.

He captured her hand with his and stilled it against his chest. “Babe, I really want to, I do, but I’m just exhausted tonight.”

“Okay.” 

That is when she knew something was wrong; when Dean had a lot on his mind having sex was always a top priority, it let him forget about everything else. She snuggled back into him, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Both were staring into the dark, lost in their separate thoughts until sleep finally overtook them. 

The sun was streaming through the window when Y/N woke up the next morning to an empty bed, reaching over she touched his side to feel the cold material under her fingertips. She strained to listen for a moment, hoping to hear him rattling around in the kitchen, but it was dead silent. A feeling of uneasiness washed over her as she got up and walked to the chest of drawers, pulling on a clean hoodie and pair of shorts. She padded out to the kitchen to start coffee then walked over to the window, peeking through the blinds; Baby was still there parked next to her Jeep, so she knew Dean was around here somewhere. Making her way to the bathroom she washed her face, brushed her teeth and then picked up her phone, to call Sam.

“Hey Tink.”

“Sam,” she greeted, jumping right in, “I think you're right, I don’t know what it is, but something is going on.”

“Yeah,” she could hear the concern in his voice, “I think I should come up; there is some stuff missing from the bunker.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Just let me try to talk to your brother. I told you I would call, but maybe he needs some time.”.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “Just let me know if anything changes with him?”

“I will, Sam,” she promised, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Right,” Sam agreed, “soon.” She didn’t know the younger brother was already on his way to the cabin. He had his suspicions, and none of them were good.

Y/N laid her phone on the counter and finished making her coffee. Picking up her mug, she headed outside to find Dean. Hearing noises coming from the boathouse, so she made her way toward the dock when the sound stopped, and a moment later, Dean walked out the door, slamming it behind him. The look on his face chilled her to the bone; she couldn’t put her finger on it exactly; it was a mixture of anger, resolution, and sadness. When he spotted her standing in the middle of the yard, mug in hand, he pasted a smile on his face, but she knew, even from where she was standing, that he was pretending for her benefit, the smile never reached his eyes.

“Hey Babe, What are you doing out here?” 

“I woke up, and you were gone, I thought maybe you had left, when I saw Baby was still here I thought I would come to find you and see what you were up to.”

“Oh, you know,” he ducked his head so she couldn’t see his face, “just messing around.”

“Anything in particular?”

“No, nothing specific,” he finally looked up, making eye contact. “You know a lot of stuff needs to get done, so I thought I would get a drop on it. Besides-” he opened his arms “-I needed to come see my girl,” he pulled her into him, holding her tight. He closed his eyes, feeling her in his embrace. This is what he was going to think about later when there were no more choices left to make.

She pulled away, looking up at him, her fingers running along the scruff of his jaw as she met his gaze. “Dean, whatever you are going through, whatever you are thinking, you can talk to me.”

He swallowed hard, a pained look sweeping across his face. “You know, everyone keeps asking me how I am, but here's the thing-” he inhaled deeply “-I just don’t want to talk about it, I can’t...please.”

She leaned against him, laying her face into his chest. “If you say so,” she whispered.

Dean kissed the top of her head, lingering for just a moment before leaning back to look at her face. “I’m starving, why don’t we head to that diner in town and grab some pancakes?”

Y/N scrunched her nose, “I’m not really feeling pancakes,” she lied. What she needed was to get in that boathouse to see what the Hell Dean was doing because she knew him well enough to know something was going on, she could feel it in her bones.

“Seriously?” he asked skeptically. “You don’t want pancakes? You love pancakes.”

She shrugged stepping out of his embrace, “I don’t know Dean, I think donuts from the bakery sound really good. Can you go get some?” 

“I guess I could,” he hedged, glancing quickly at the boathouse.

“Great!” she smiled turning to walk towards the cabin. “Can you get the apple fritter and jelly kind? You know those are my favorite.”

Stopping at the steps, he bent to brush a kiss to her lips before continuing on to Baby. Cranking the engine, he glanced one more time at Y/N and roared down the driveway. She stood at the bottom of the steps until she could no longer hear the Impala. Setting down her cup on the steps she turned and glanced at the dock. 

The blood roared in Y/N’s ears, and her heart banged against her ribcage as she quickly made her way to the boathouse she was praying that she could answer what was going on with Dean in there. It was more than just Michael locked away in his head; she could feel it.

The door opened with a loud screech that made her jump. She rolled her eyes to herself; sneaking around was just not her thing. Snapping the switch on, she saw a large metal rectangular box with symbols carved into it. She stood and stared at it for a moment as she swallowed the bile rising in her throat; it looked like a coffin. Y/N slowly made her way to the container. A few books were sitting on the top; with shaky fingers, she flipped open the first one; it had a picture of a casket matching the one in front of her with a skeleton lying inside; she riffled through the pages, scanning them as the realization dawned on her. It is a Ma’lak box, and it's to imprison archangels. She clamped her hand over her mouth as sour taste hit her tongue, her insides twisting. She slammed the book closed and ran out of the boathouse, making it out just in time to lose her stomach's contents on the dock's side. The dry heaves hit her as she finally stood up, wiping her mouth with her sweatshirt sleeve. Her brain was jumping in a thousand different directions at once. 

Dean was going to kill himself. She couldn’t think straight; she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes in an attempt to get her thoughts together. “SAM!” her head screamed. She sprinted toward the cabin; Y/N knew she left her phone in the kitchen so she would call Sam, he would know what to do. As she was almost to the porch, the roar of Baby’s engine came up the driveway; she had run out of time.

She stood on the porch as Dean got out of the car, a white bakery box in hand. His long strides brought him to the bottom of the steps quicker than she could pull herself together. His smile fell as he saw her pale face and watery eyes.

“Babe, what’s going on?” his face filled with concern.

“No, Dean!” she pointed at him, her voice, a mixture of barely contained anger mixed with hysteria.

He set the box down on the steps, the knot in his stomach growing heavier with the apprehension that she knew his secret. “Tell me Y/N,” he rasped.

“I saw it, Dean,” she shakily accused, “what you are building in the boathouse, what you are planning. How could you do this?”

“It needs to be done. Y/N, there is no other choice.” He ran his hand over his face, resigned. “Billie showed me that if I don’t do this, Michael will break free, and if that happens, he will burn this world down, and I can’t risk that.”

“So what is the big plan, Dean?” she threw her hands up, raising her voice. “You and Michael get in that damn box, and we just pick a spot and bury you?”

“Not exactly,” he shook his head, climbing the steps to join her on the porch.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to-” he reached for her, but she backed up out of his grasp.

“Bullshit!” she exploded. “You do not get to do this, Dean, you do not get to say you would rather I didn’t know, it’s too fucking late for that.”

“Fine,” his anger rising, “ burying me isn’t good enough, I’m going to find someone with a boat to drop me in the middle of the Pacific,” he brushed his hands together. “Done, problem solved.”

“So let me get this straight,” she started, tears streaming down her face, “ you and Michael, trapped underwater, together until the end of time. You know that’s crazy, right?”

“No Y/N” he sighed, “ it’s the only sane plan there is. Michael can’t get out of that box and he will get out of my head, eventually. So this, it’s the only card I have left to play.”

“Fuck that and fuck Billie!” she yelled, stomping her foot. “There has to be another way! Sam can find another way; you don’t have to do this!”

“Listen,” he pleaded, “Sam has tried, you know he has with Cas and Jack too. There is no other way Michael is coming,” he tapped his temple with his index finger. “I can feel that door in my head giving way; I’m out of options.”

“So that’s it,” she cried. “You came out here to build this, stopped by to see Donna and your Mom for what? To say goodbye, and then just leave? You were going to leave and not say goodbye to Sam or me, just disappear? Do you know how unfair that is?”

Anger and regret flashed in his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t have a choice, don’t you see that? You two were the last two people on this earth that I could be around because you are the only two that could talk me out of it, and Y/N I won’t be talked out of it, I can’t.” 

She stared at him, her chest heaving, the understanding that she was helpless to stop him washing over her, the pain almost crushing her. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Can’t do what?” he demanded

“I can’t stand by and watch you kill yourself.”

 “I don’t have any other choice,” Dean lamented sadly. “What do you want from me?”

“You know I have never asked you for anything,” she shot back.

“Then ask for something!” he yelled.

“Fine,” she threw up her hands, pacing on the cabin's porch, “I want you to be safe! I don’t want you to die! I just want you to think about-” she choked out a sob.

“What Y/N?” he grasped her shoulders, stopping her misstep. “What is it that you want? Tell me!”

“Really?!” she shouted, jerking out of his grasp but standing her ground, tears continuing to roll down her face. "You want to hear this now? Well, here it is: I want you to love me more than you want to save the fucking world, okay?”

Dean stepped back, flinching as if she had physically slapped him. At that very moment, he realized she had no idea how deep his feelings for her were. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she laughed humorlessly, “sorry for what, Dean? Sorry for making me fall in love with you, sorry for pretending that we might have a future together, or are you sorry for throwing it all away to lock yourself in a fucking box to die? Please tell me!” She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move, which made her cry harder in anger. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her; she struggled for a moment before collapsing onto his chest, her mournful cries shredding him inside as he tried to stop his tears from falling. They stood there holding each other, fearing letting go would mean saying goodbye forever.

When Sam pulled into the drive, Dean and Y/N were sitting on the stoop, both looking out to the woods, her hand resting in his. Dean turned to look at his brother; when their eyes met, Sam knew that whatever was happening was terrible; Dean’s eyes were red-rimmed, jaw clenching, and unclenching. Y/N glanced up, the look of anguish scared him. Getting out of the car, he slowly approached them.

“What are you doing here, Sammy?” Dean asked, his voice raspy and monotone. 

“Some things were missing from the bunker,” he replied, “things that I can’t figure out why you would take.”

Y/N exhaled loudly, "Tell him, Dean," her voice flat as she stood up, pulling her hand from his. She walked up the three steps into the house, closing the wooden door quietly behind her.

“Tell me what?” he asked harshly, knowing he would not like the answer.

Dean stood up and began to make his way to the boathouse. “Come on,” he waved, his voice solemn, “I’ll just show you.”

Sam followed his brother into the boathouse, at the sight of the metal coffin, anger and sadness hit him full force. Dean tried to explain the plan to his baby brother, however the more he went into detail, the more infuriated Sam became, frustrated with his brother's willingness to self-sacrifice. .

“So, that’s it, then?” he questioned, “are we even going to talk about it?”

“Why?’ his older brother answered, “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Dean,” Sam appealed, “we know we could die, it’s part of the job, but what you're doing? It’s worse than death. Michael is an archangel; he could keep you alive and buried with him forever.”

Dean lifted a shoulder, defeated. “It doesn't matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” Sam yelled. “You are just willing to walk away from all of us, from your family, who want to help you! Aren’t you even scared?”

 “I didn’t say I wasn’t scared,” he sighed, running his hands over his hair, “but what’s the other option? Michael gets out and destroys everything because it’s all right there in Billie’s book, just like I told you.”

“That's only if we can’t find another way, Dean, there has to be another way.”

“And what is that way, Sam?” Dean asked, resigned, “Tell me.”

Sam threw up his hands, searching for words to fight his case.

“Exactly,” he pointed his finger at his younger brother, “which is why it’s going to be my way. Look, Sammy, you are either with me on this or not. If you aren’t with me, you gotta tell me now; I need to know if you are going to see this thing through to the end.”

“I don’t like it, Dean, there has to be another way, but you will not do this alone. I give you my word.”

“I just don’t need you to get shaky on this or you and Y/N to come up with some plan that isn’t going to work. It has to be my way.”

“What about Cas and Jack or Mom?” Sam questioned, “You haven’t said anything to them; why?” 

“I know,” Dean huffed, running his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m just not good at the big goodbye thing; I can’t second guess myself now.”

“Well, Dean,” Sam shook his head, disappointed, “that wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

“You know what Michael wants; you know this is the only way to stop him, so either get on board or let me know now because I’m not going to drag this out.”

Sam looked at his older brother in the eye. “I said I am there until the end, and I mean it, I don’t agree with it, and I think there is another way, but I have your back Dean, always.”

“There is a trailer outback; I’m going to hook it up to Baby, then I need your help loading this box on it. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Sam nodded once, “What about Tink?”

“I don’t know if she is going to come back out of the house.” He rubbed his stubble in thought.

“So, that’s it?” Sam questioned angrily, “You are just going to leave her there, after all of this?”

“No, Sam,” he met his brother's eyes, matching his anger, “I’m going to go in there and do the thing I never wanted to do, I’m going to tell her goodbye.” He choked on the last word, “So, I need you to do me a favor, Sammy.”

“I know what you are going to ask me,” he stated.

“Well, I’m asking anyway, watch out for her, would you? Check-in just to make sure she is alright.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam looked at  Dean, his lips in a firm line, “I will, but I’m telling you she isn’t going to be fine, none of us are.”

Dean hooked up the trailer behind Baby, and he and Sam loaded the Ma’lak box, securing it to the trailer. Sam went to gather all of the tools from the boathouse as Dean walked into the cabin. As he entered the front door, it was eerily quiet, Y/N nowhere to be found; he stuck his head into every room checking for her. Dean knew in his gut she was in the bedroom they shared, his stomach sinking just a little bit more with every step to his destination. Stopping in front of the door, he saw her lying on the bed, under the covers with her back to him, staring out the glass wall.

“Babe,” he said softly, she didn’t move, she didn’t acknowledge him, he knew she wasn’t sleeping as he watched her breath. Tiptoeing into the room, he sat on the bed, placing his large hand on her back to comfort her. Instead, she flinched under his touch, which was an arrow to his soul. Standing up, he walked to the other side of the bed, crouching down in her eyesight, he tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at him, instead just closed her eyes, silent.

“Y/N,” he whispered, “I have to go.” He watched her face as he said the words, tears leaking from her closed lids soundlessly. Brushing her hair back from her face, he leaned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded her head once against the pillow, acknowledging his words, squeezing her eyes tighter, afraid to speak for fear she would fall apart.

“Please look at me,” he pleaded, his hand resting on the side of her head, his thumb brushing against her brow. She squeezed her eyes tight and then opened them, her tears glistening off her lashes. Dean wished he hadn’t have asked her, he saw all of the pain she felt  in her expressive eyes, which made him physically feel the grief he was causing. Her heartache was going to be what he remembered when he was locked in that box, haunting him for eternity. Dean didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to close himself in that damned coffin. Yet, he didn’t have a choice. Between Y/N and Sam, he was starting to waver. Her watery eyes blinking at him, he smiled sadly. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss across her mouth and heard her choke back a sob. Speaking against her lips, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. You’ll forever be in my heart..”

Standing up, unshed tears in his own eyes, Dean pulled the blanket up, tucking it underneath her chin. Shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he walked to the bedroom door.

“Dean,” she choked out.

He paused, turning around, she was still facing the window, on a shuttered breath, she spoke, “I will always love you.”

With that, he turned on his heel, the tears finally falling as he made his way to the car and his brother, away from the only woman he truly loved with every ounce of his being.

Dean’s POV

The next three weeks were a whirlwind. Sam talked him into taking one more job before they dropped him in the ocean. Dean knew he was stalling for the inevitable, but what was one more job? Dead bodies with symbols carved in them? Enochian marks, it was right up their alley. They were prophets or more specific damaged prophets because Donatello was in a coma thanks to Castiel, not exactly dead but not alive. They were able to bring Donnie back, again thanks to Cas, he still didn’t have a soul, but there were worse things at this point. 

Dean and Sam had fought. His little brother had sucker-punched him, trying to knock some sense into him, accusing him of throwing in the towel and quitting on not only him but Y/N. That they must mean nothing to him after everything that had done together, Sam believes in them, so why doesn’t Dean? 

The elder Winchester then made the decision to put the Ma’lak box on the back burner, just for the moment. It was still the only option he could see, but if Sam needed to see this through, he was going to give that to him, how could he not? The younger Winchester  was right; after all, they had been through a lot together, how could Dean just quit? He believed in them, in all of them and Hell, Billie might be wrong after all, but one thing he knew for sure is that he could count on his family. Dean made Sam and Cas promise him that if it comes to an end and they have run out of options, they would do what they couldn’t do now, and that was let him go. They had to promise to put him in the box and drop him in the ocean's bottom. 

Once the promises were made, they headed back to the bunker, Dean's phone burning in his pocket; he just wanted to hear her voice. Still, until they came to a resolution with Michael, he could not call her; this painful back and forth was never what she agreed to. At this point, she may never forgive him, so he needed to hold tight to see if they could find a solution before he reached out to her again.

A few days after they got back to the bunker, they got some information on a guy who owned a pawn shop who had robbed and killed Bart Kemp, a friend of theirs who was murdered and his place emptied. In the boxes of occult items recovered, he discovered a Baozhu pearl, only one of eight in existence; it was supposed to give you what your heart desires. Dean knew he wanted to throw Michael out on his ass, no more riding shotgun in his head. The brothers knew they were running out of options; this might be their last hope.

When they got home, they decided to try it; if it didn’t work, there was no reason to share it with the rest of the family. Placing the pearl in his hand, he concentrated on Michael leaving; he knew it must be working because the lights went out, and that is when all hell broke loose, in the very best and very worst way possible. In the dark, someone hit them both with the butt end of a shotgun; as the lights came back on, standing in front of them was the one person the brothers ever thought they would see again, their father, John Winchester.

It took them all a few minutes to wrap their head around what they saw as John struggled with the fact that they were so much older than when he was pulled 16 years into the future. Sitting at the kitchen table, they tried to fill their father in on all of the things that happened since he traded his life and the colt for Dean’s life so many years ago. Although in shock and a little awe, John agreed it was all worth it to avenge Mary’s death, but that was the news that would knock John on his ass as he heard Mary’s voice calling to their boys as she entered the bunker.  

Seeing his parents see each other for the first time in decades was bittersweet for Dean, that his heart desired to have his family together. Just one person was missing because he didn’t have it in him to call her and disappoint her one more time. He and Sam figured out quickly that bringing their Dad into the future had changed the whole trajectory of history. Sam was a kale eating attorney who gave Ted Talks; Dean was still a hunter wanted by every agency under the sun. They knew the only way to fix this was to send John back to 2003. That is the Winchester way, doing the right thing no matter what the personal cost. They were able to have one meal together before they sent their Dad back, the one meal that they would always remember, although John would recall it as a dream. Mary told John about Y/N during the dinner, although she had yet to meet her, she and Dean had been together almost a year and a half, and Mary saw the joy she brought to her eldest son and wanted her husband to know it too. John pulled Dean to the side before they had to say goodbye for the final time.

“Dean,” his father began, “I never meant for this, for you to live this life, this was my fight never yours, it was my fight with yellow eyes, now look at you, you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you,” he sighed. “You know son, I guess I hoped eventually you would find a life, a normal life, a peaceful one, settle down and start a family of your own.”

“You know, Dad,” Dean smiled sadly, “I have a family.”

John matched his sad smile with one of his own, “I know you do, with Sammy, Jack, and Cas, and it’s a good family.” Reaching out he and grasped his shoulder, “but Dean, you have a chance to have what your Mom and I had, not with all the tragedy that comes with it, but a real-life that you can call your own, with a woman that loves you,” John chuckled, "despite your faults. Your Mom said she is something special.”

“She is Dad; she really is,” Dean choked.

“Well then,” he smiled, “when all this gets figured out with Michael, and don’t you kid yourselves, you two boys will figure it out. You need to go to Y/N and tell her Dean, tell her that the world does not spin without her, because if you don’t, and you try to live this life without her? You will die, maybe not on the outside,” he patted his chest over his heart, “but in here. Trust me, son, I’m telling you this because I lived it. Go to your girl, Dean. You will have a life better than you could ever dream of.”

“Thanks, Dad” Dean's mouth quirked up at the side, tears shining in his eyes, “that means more to me than you will ever understand.”

“I know I didn’t always show it-” John rasped, “because I was too wrapped up in my own revenge, but Dean, I wanted the best for you and Sam always. Now you two have a chance to live your best life, do it, both of you.” He pulled Dean to him and hugged him tightly, “go and live the only life your Mom and I ever wanted for you. I love you, son.”

“You to Dad,” he choked. “I love you too.”

Inhaling deeply, John sniffed as he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets, "well, I guess we need to get to it then.”

“Yeah,” Dean croaked, hanging his head.

Standing in the library, John hugged his sons, reminding them again how proud he is of both of them and also reminding Dean that he should listen to his old man’s advice. He held Mary’s hand as Sam crushed the Baozhu pearl under a pottery bowl, watching with heavy hearts as John disappeared.

As Dean lay in his bunk that night, he flipped through the pictures of Y/N on his phone. The smile on her face warmed him through the photograph as his father's words repeated through his mind. There was one thing that troubled him. What if this was the time that she could not forgive him? What if this was the thing that destroyed everything they had built together? What if once again he sabotaged his own life for everyone else. If they could figure this Michael situation out, he would call her, no, he would get in Baby and find her because she deserved nothing less and just hoped to God or whoever was listening that she would give him one more chance.

In the next few days, Sam was busy searching through more books to find answers until they got a lead on a demigod who was killing humans and consuming their bodies. Even with Rowena’s help, the gorgon was always one step ahead of him until he left a note for Dean after killing a truck driver, realizing that they couldn’t see Cas. The pounding in his head was getting worse, and Dean was sure if they didn’t find something soon, he would find himself at the bottom of the pacific. Dean just hoped that he didn’t have to fight Cas and his brother on this because he just wasn’t sure he had it in him. He wasn’t sleeping much, so instead, he spent that time dwelling on how different things would be had he made other choices. 

He talked to Jody; she and Donna had driven to see Y/N at the cabin. She didn't say too much except that Y/N was surviving. That turned Dean’s world upside down, yet he was helpless at this point to do anything but move forward or take the plunge. Either option did not look appealing to him. 

Rowena put on a tracking spell on the demigod and sent Castiel and Jack in first because the Gorgon couldn’t see them; as the fight ensued, Sam and Dean joined in when things went sideways. He was stronger than he looked and got the drop on Dean, smashing his head multiple times against the wall's corner, leaving him unconscious. Jack was able to behead the demigod before his escape and used his powers to save Cas because Rowena's anti-venom did not work on angels. 

They made their way back to the bunker from New Mexico, Dean never regaining consciousness. When he finally woke up, he was in a rage, destroying a part of the infirmary. He told them this would happen, and now there would be hell to pay; Michael was gone, broke down the door that Dean had him locked behind in his mind, and now he was gone, now the world would burn. Hearing screams from the war room, they ran to find Michael jumped inside Rowena. He didn’t give her a choice; she wasn’t Dean, but she was strong and a close second, Now Michael was going to take over this world just like he had planned when he came through the rift all those months ago, except this time there was no one to stop him. Or so he thought.

Michael was enjoying causing Dean, Sam, and Cas pain; Jack was unaffected, but that was just a small distraction. Suffocating them, blinding them, causing them pain was just a little game until they suffered a bit before ending them all. Jack had had enough, to hell with his soul burning up; he would kill Michael or die trying. Michael thought he would stop him? He was the son of Lucifer, a hunter, a Winchester! With that, Jack placed his hands on either side of Rowena's head, driving Michael out. As Michael's essence swirled around the ceiling, Jack burned up his remaining soul by torching Michael and ingesting his grace. Michael was dead. It was over, and no one else had to die by Michael’s hand; Dean was free.

The older Winchester’s first thought was Y/N. Michael was dead, sure they had to think about dealing with Jack without a soul, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He had to get to her to fix this. Dean needed sleep, and he was also worried about how Sam was coping, but they could hold off for a few days, right? He had 10 hours to figure out how to make it up to her as he headed to Castle Rock Lake. He wanted to make her see that Michael was gone and that he was sorry that he had put her through everything, but he was back, entirely himself and would never put her through it again. 

By the time he got to the lake, it was early morning, the excitement and trepidation making him almost jittery. As he cleared the trees to the cabin, he looked up to see the door to the cabin slam closed; his heart sunk a little as that was not a good sign. He was tired from the drive, hell he was exhausted from the last three weeks, but his Dad was right, he needed her.

Climbing from the car, he strode up the walkway and climbed the steps stopping in front of the door. He knew his girl well enough that he would bet every dime in his pocket that she was standing just inside with her back pressed up against the door. Laying his palm against the wood, he called to her.

“Babe.”

“No, Dean,” came her muffled reply.

“Come on, Babe, come out here and talk to me,” he tried to reason.

“I can’t do this again.” He could hear her crying. It hurt because he knew it was all because of him, but he was trying to fix it...if she would just let him.

“Y/N, just open the door.” 

“No, go away, Dean, I mean it go away.”

Stepping to the door, he leaned his forehead against the heavy wood with a sigh, “I’m not leaving; I will just stand here until you open up.”

“No, you won’t!” she yelled, he could hear the panic in her voice; she knew him, if he said he was going to do something, it would happen. “I will call the cops!” she threatened.

“Really?” he stifled a chuckle. “You are going to call the cops on me?”

There was a moment of silence before she huffed out a “No.” 

“Babe, open the door,” he pleaded.

“I’m not opening the door; you just need to go. Seriously, I can't do this anymore, Dean. I don’t want to be just one more of your responsibilities. I just need to figure out how to-” her voice cut off on a sob.

“I just want to see you, so you can tell me to my face that you never want to see me again.”

“Why?” she yelled, banging her fist on the door. “Can’t you just listen and do what I ask?”

“It’s simple,” he almost smiled; he knew that the longer it took her to open the door, the better chance he had of fixing what he had broken. “You open the door and look me in the eye and tell me you're done.”

“You are an asshole!” she screamed as she banged on the door.

“That may be sweetheart,” he chuckled, “ but I’m not stepping foot off this porch until you look me in the eye.”

“Well,” she laughed sarcastically, “You will be out there a long time.”

“Ah, well,” Dean smiled as he turned around and sat down, bracing his back on the door, “you know how stubborn I can be, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Chapter 14

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[malfoysqueen54]

In The Name Of The Father

Steve Rogers X OFC

Warnings: Character Death, Cussing? Thats it for now

18+ Only PLEASE! Beware my work can end up anywhere in smutville!!

Phil Coulsons daughter was devoted to her father, now in his death she devotes herself to Steve Rogers. In his memory. The girl she never felt he wanted no matter how she tried to be the super solider he dreamed of having as a son. Now as Steve's friend/ partner/ agent, she must deal with her baggage, but that chip on her shoulder is hard to remove. Even with Steve's charms.

She fell to her knees in front of her commanding officer and he approached to help her up with his lieutenant. Her father was gone—he was dead. She felt as if a huge slab of cement was laying on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know if she ever would again. Her eyes squinted at the bright desert landscape around her. The noise of the encampment was being drowned out by the rushing sound in her ears from her blood pumping so fast.

“You need to pack, Major. You're going home. Your ride is already here.” She looked up at the General, her vision still hazy, and he gestured to the opening of the tent behind her. She knew and got up running to the man who recruited, trained and loved her like a father. Her gaze met Fury’s after a few minutes of silent tears.

“Let’s go, Brooke. I got you.” His hand gently smoothing over her back.

 Everything was a blur…she couldn’t even go to the funeral. The Avengers were there and she saw red because of that. It wasn’t their fault, but she was so angry. Plus, he would be there. The bane of her existence, even if they hadn’t met yet. Brooke couldn’t face that, not yet. Her activities were simple for nearly two months. Drink, barely eat, barely sleep, drink more. So, of course, the reinforcements came.

Fury never knocked and she heard his booming voice first. “Brooke! Where are you?” It made her hangover worse.

“Jesus Christ, Nick, really!” she snapped, pouring more vodka in a glass. It was breakfast; why the hell not. Nat showed up, grabbed the bottle and poured it out. Brooke groaned and rolled her eyes, and Nick took the glass from her.

That one eye of his judging her like it always did. “You look like shit,” he said gently, yet matter-of-factly.

“Well I feel like shit, Fury.” She saluted him with a sarcastic grin, and then leaned on the kitchen counter, holding her head.

Nat put her hand on Brooke’s arm. “This won’t bring him back. You know he would be pissed.” Nat’s grip getting a little tighter to get her attention

Brooke turned to her friend and glared gently. “I was never enough. He would always be pissed, no matter what I did.” Her retort was dry and sorrowful; she knew how true that was. She had been trained almost since birth. You name it, she did it, including Army Special Forces and S.H.I.E.L.D. Nope, still not good enough.

Nick looked at Natasha and then back to Brooke. “I need a handler/partner/agent for Steve Rogers.” It was to the point.

Brooke sobered like cold water had been thrown on her. She snapped her eyes up to meet his and Natasha’s. “Are you kidding?!” she practically screeched.

“No, and you are the one who knows the most about him. You know stuff we probably don’t.” He gestured between him and Nat.

Brooke pushed off the counter, running her hands into her hair, her blood boiling. “You want me to babysit that little shit!” Her stance turned angrily towards Fury.

“Actually, he is like six foot two, so he only beats you by like two inches. Unless you wear your heels,” the redhead replied.

Brooke snarled. “I know how tall the bastard is.” Brooke took deep breaths, the scenarios running through her head. She owed this to her dad. Steve Rogers was his idol. She closed her eyes. “Fine, but that jerk will not know my personal past. Work related, fine.” Her hands were on her hips, sternly looking at Nick and Natasha.

Fury nodded, folding his arms. “What do you want your cover name to be then?”

She smirked and scoffed a little. “How about Barnes?”

Natasha sucked in a breath through her teeth. “That’s just cold, Brooke.” Fury shook his head.

“Fine, Collins, same thing we have used before.” She rolled her eyes as she waved her hand dismissively, turning to go shower and sober up.

“Your first get together is tonight at S.H.I.E.L.D.” Nat informed her.

“Yippee,” was the only bored reply they got as she closed her bedroom door on them.

The director and agent took their leave. Natasha was nervous, though. It could be a nuclear disaster in the making. “Are you sure we should do this? Put them together like this? Steve can be just as stubborn as she is.”

“If anyone can handle him, it’s her. Plus, she needs this. Her grudge will have to subside. He’s a damn boy scout, for Christ sake,” Fury replied, opening the door of the SUV.

“And she has a personal vendetta,” Natasha said getting into the passenger seat.

Fury sighed, falling back into the driver’s seat. “You have known her for years, trained with her. You know she will do everything to her father’s memory and credit. So, I know she may hate it, but she would die for Captain America. She is a soldier, she is loyal and one of the best damn assets we have.”

Natasha nodded with a knowing smirk. “You're right.” She sighed with a gentle chuckle. “She’s gonna hate it.”

 Steve blew out a breath as he stood before Fury, Nat, Clint and Tony. He still didn’t know why he needed agent backup, or a handler, as they were also known as. Nick just looked at him sitting there and gave a slight smirk to Clint and Nat.

“So- when does his babysitter get here,” Tony asked. Clint and Nat shook their heads while Steve just sighed heavily.

“It’s not a babysitter. You Avengers all have loyal backup and agent help. Captain Rogers is no different,” Nick corrected him, glaring him down with that gaze of his.

Tony shrugged. “Alright, well does this guy have the ability and skill to back up the Capsicle?”  Steve exhaled heavily through his nose, narrowing his eyes at Tony. “Just looking out for you Cap.” The billionaire folded his arms with another small shrug.

Steve hated to admit it, but looked at Fury and wondered the same thing. “He has a point.”

Clint and Natasha glanced at one another, smiling as Nick picked up a file. “Well, Army Special Forces, Green Beret. A Major in the Army. Three tours in Afghanistan.” Nick glanced up and Cap nodded as Tony looked unimpressed and gestured him to go on. “Three black belts, mixed martial arts fighting and winner, mind you. Weapons training, including blades, knifes, Asian weapons, swords and HYDRA weapons, as well as archery. A licensed pilot, a trained spy with undercover ops in Russia, Iran, England and Germany. Fluent in fifteen languages, do I need to keep going on?” He threw the file down on the table.

“How old is this guy? I mean, that’s a lot. Can’t have a lot of life experience. I mean no serum making him young like gramps over here.” Tony jerked his thumb at Steve. Steve shrugged—sounded qualified.

“Agent Collins is thirty-one,” Clint raised his hand. “Why are you here again, Tony?”

“Oh, I was updating tech for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he replied. “Wanted to look out for Cap here.” He smirked walking slowly over toward where Steve was seated.

“When’s he supposed to be here?” Steve asked ignoring Tony.

Agent Collins is here, Director.

They heard over the com on the desk.

“Show her into the conference room. We will be right there.”

“Her?!” Steve and Tony both exclaimed while Nat and Clint snickered at that.

“Yes. Her. Unlike you, Stark, I can trust Captain Rogers with a female,” Fury stated as Tony put his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you will be stuck with a real dog.” Tony patted his shoulder as they set to leave the room to meet this agent Collins. Steve really wasn’t happy now. Fury picked up the folder and they all followed him to the conference room.

“Fury, really, a woman, why?” Steve huffed slightly.

“Because she’s the best, next to you guys,” the director replied

“She’s a real old, deadly hag- he means,” Tony chirped in.

“Enough, Tony,” Steve snapped at him.

Fury opened the door and they walked in. Her back was to them, sitting in the chair. Her blonde, or was it strawberry blonde, hair—Steve couldn’t tell in the lighting—was pulled up in a ponytail. She turned in her chair, not getting up, and looked at them.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony looked at Fury, flabbergasted.

Fury nodded as Steve looked at her face. She didn’t look like she was in her thirties. She didn’t look too young, either. He walked over to her. “You’re Agent Collins?” he asked, not too sure he could believe this woman was the one Fury just described.

She looked him up and down, and not in the usual way women did. Steve tensed under her gaze as if he would have to fight. Her eyes held contempt or was it arrogance? Anger—yeah, he was sure he saw that. She turned her chair and stood slowly, and Clint and Nat shook their heads as she met Steve eye to eye.  Yeah, she wore the heels, just to let him know she would match him toe to toe. Steve’s eyes widened slightly as she smirked, and he glanced down over her and back up.

“Yeah, Mr. Rogers. I am Agent Collins.” She folded her arms in front of her smirking defiantly.

Tony’s eyes bugged a little and looked at Fury again. “Really? Are you kidding me? How tall is she? Did you find her at a Victoria's Secret show?”

“Six foot, to be exact, Mr. Stark. I am no model. Just a soldier and agent.” She looked at him blandly, turning to look at him.

“Play nice, Brooke. You know it’s Captain Rogers.” Fury eyed her. Steve kind of stared; this is what the army was churning out now? She couldn’t be that lethal, could she?

Brooke exhaled heavily, looking at him then back to Rogers and held out her hand. “Captain, I am Agent Brooke Collins. Yes, I am thirty-one, and yes, I am highly trained in a lot of things. Not all of us are lucky enough to get super solider serum.” She grinned sarcastically at him.

Steve raised a brow at her. The woman had some bite to her, and she wasn’t overly fond of him. Yet, he trusted Fury. He took her hand and shook it. They were soft, yes, but well worn. She worked with her hands and her grip was firm. “Major Collins,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “From what I hear, you don’t need serum. Now do you?” He felt her arm tense and her hand tighten in his, her eyes narrowed as well.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Tony smirked watching the two amused.

“No, it’s going to be work.” Brooke let Steve go and grabbed her file, tossing it at the table. “Clint.” She smiled brightly and hugged him, which he returned.

“Hey lady, you doin’ ok?” he asked without giving away anything. He knew she didn’t want anyone knowing who already didn’t about her dad.

She smiled and nodded.

Steve took her in as she hugged Natasha as well. She had on a simple black jacket and tank top underneath and jeans that hugged her, but were modest and showed the long legs adorned with black heeled boots. The look was unassuming , comfortable and gave her mobility in case of a fight. She wasn’t wearing makeup but then he thought she was pretty without it. She wasn’t superficial or materialistic, it seemed. Her posture was straight, hands placed behind her back. Yeah, she was a soldier. He could almost guarantee she had a weapon hidden somewhere as well.

Fury took in their stance and smirked. “So, can you work together? I need you to be Roger’s partner and back up.”

Steve folded his arms, watching her. “I think we will be fine.”

Fury looked to Brooke. She nodded. “From what I am told, he has no libido. So, I am fine, no worries for me.” She saluted Fury with a wink.

Fury let his head fall and shook it. “Um, question.” Tony raised his hand as Fury left for them all to talk and Tony followed. “Why does he get the snarky Christie Brinkley and I get a computer?” The doors cut off the rest of the conversation.

Steve walked up to her as she spoke to Clint and Natasha. “Have we met before? You seem to not really care for me. That’s odd if we haven’t met.” Clint and Nat glanced at one another before saying goodbye so Brooke and Steve could talk.

Brooke looked him over and took a deep breath. “You're right, I don’t care for you. Be that as it may, you are a huge asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. and America. So, I will do all I can to have your back.” She folded her arms across her chest once again.

Steve narrowed his eyes at her but nodded. “Alright, I trust Fury. Let’s give it a shot.” He nodded as he spoke, agreeing with himself.

@thorne93​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @magellan-88​ @buckysforeverprincess​ @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​ @emoryhemsworth​ @st-eve-barnes​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @superfanficnatural​

[searchingwardrobes]

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 7/11

In this chapter, Emma sets off on a search for home, but is she only running? Meanwhile, Killian learns that a voyage may be in order to stop Pan’s evil schemes. I promise, this is the last chapter that Emma and Killian will be separated! I think (hopefully) your wait will have been well worth it ;) At any rate, this chapter has some really important revelations. Oh, and don’t try to make this story fit canon. Just don’t. Storybrooke really is just a normal town, and the only Once characters in it are the ones I have named. I haven’t forgotten about Snow and Charming, I promise. You just have to trust me! (I’ve said that a lot, haven’t I?)

Much thanks as always to the mods of the csrt event at @captainswanbigbang. Also thanks to @optomisticgirl​ and @shippingtheswann for their beta skills.

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 3k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 21

Emma wedges the last cardboard box into the backseat of her Bug, and Graham grunts as he slams the trunk shut. She’s honestly surprised he managed it. For someone with no roots, she sure was able to pack this car tight. Not that it takes much in a VW Bug, but still.

“Are you sure about this?” Ruby asks as Emma shuts the door.

“Yeah,” Graham says coming around the front of the car, “Tallahassee is an awfully long way from Maine.”

Emma shrugs. “There’s farther.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “But you have a life here. Plus, if you stay, you get to be one of my bridesmaids.”

Ruby nudges Emma’s elbow, making her smile despite herself. “And I so want to wear those lovely dresses Bertie at Modern Fashions designed for you. What color was that again?”

“Salmon,” Ruby laughs, “but if you stay, I could convince her to do them in magenta instead.”

Emma chuckles too. “Now, that changes everything!”

“Now, Emma,” Graham cuts in, “it’s a long drive from here down to Florida. Pull over if you get tired, and make sure you check the oil regularly, and -”

“Would both of you stop?” Granny admonishes, shooing Ruby and Graham away so she can pull Emma in for a hug. “Don’t listen to them, sweetheart. You’re young, and you need to spread your wings.”

Emma nods against Granny’s shoulder, willing her tears not to fall. When the older woman releases her, Ruby claims a hug. When the brunette releases Emma, she clasps her by both shoulders and gives her a long, intense look.

“If you don’t find what you’re looking for, you’ll come home?”

Emma sighs. “I’m sorry, Ruby. Storybrooke’s been wonderful, but home is something I’m still searching for.”

Ruby shakes her head. “Or maybe you’re running.”

“Maybe. But when you really have a home, and you leave it, you just . . . miss it. I’m gonna keep running until I feel that.”

“Well, if you feel that for us -”

“Then I’ll be back.”

The two young women embrace again, and then Emma gets behind the wheel of the dilapidated yellow car she had saved for two months to buy in cash. Ruby’s ex, Billy, had done a ton of work on it for the cost of parts only, which had taken an additional two months in tips from the diner. Nevertheless, the Bug is now hers, and she has owned precious little in her life. She turns the key in the ignition, puts the car in gear, and waves goodbye as she pulls out of the lot in front of the inn. She watches Granny, Ruby, and Graham get smaller in her rearview mirror until she drives out of downtown Storybrooke.

There’s a stretch of countryside before she reaches the “Leaving Storybrooke” sign. For some reason, she glances in her rearview mirror again as she crosses the town line, but all she sees behind her is a long, lonely road. She sighs as she turns her gaze back out the front windshield.

She isn’t so sure the view there is any different.

Killian: Age 21

Killian picks his way gingerly through the thick foliage that runs along the ravine in the heart of Neverland. He shifts his grip on the parcels tucked beneath his right arm and swings his hook through the braken. Every time he comes to the island, the dreamshade is more prolific, daylight is shorter, and the trees drip with more lichen and moss. The scent of decay and death fill his nostrils. The fairies are right, the island is dying.

He releases a long breath of relief when he reaches the ravine and is away from the danger of the dreamshade. He ducks beneath the moss and vines covering the enchanted entryway, all of it thicker than it was on his previous visit. He taps his hook on the rock wall in the rhythm Tink had instructed, and it dissolves before him, revealing a tunnel lit with fairy magic. Finally he reaches a quaint wooden door covered in fairy runes. He touches them with his hook in the correct order, and then he hears the lock click. A greeting is on his lips, but he holds them back at the sight before him.

Wendy is in a rocker by the fireplace, singing a lullaby as she darns some of Michael’s socks. The boy himself is curled up in the bottom of the two bunks set into the wall, fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth.

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the Fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

As the final line drifts over him, Wendy glances up from her mending and lets out a cry.

“Hook!”

She leaps up and races across the room, flinging herself into Killian’s arms. He lets out a grunt at the impact, barely managing to keep hold of his parcels. He glances over her shoulder and is shocked to see Michael sleeping through it all.

“What did you bring us?” she asks, eagerly taking the packages.

“Everything on your list,” he tells her proudly, “and one or two surprises.”

“Candy for Michael?” Wendy shakes her head when she sees Hook shrug. “You don’t need to spoil him.”

“And you don’t need to act like a little mother. How old are you now?”

“Thirteen,” she replies with a tilt of her chin.

Killian frowns. “You should be giggling with your friends and getting into mischief, not darning socks and worrying over how much candy your brother eats.”

“Or attempting to mother lost boys,” says a voice over Killian’s shoulder, and he turns to see Tink coming through an archway in the back wall with piles of blankets in her hands.

“Oh, the linens!” Wendy exclaims, taking the load from Tink far too eagerly. “It’s washing day,” she tells Hook.

“Don’t change the subject,” he reprimands, “what’s this about mothering lost boys?”

“Shh, Michael’s napping.”

“Wendy -”

“Ok, ok,” she huffs, dropping the bedding onto the small kitchen table, “so I sneak out sometimes into Pan’s camp -”

“Pan’s camp!” Killian exclaims, turning incredulous eyes on Tink, who just shrugs and shakes her head.

“When they’re all asleep,” Wendy clarifies, as if that makes it ok, “and I only go because the little ones cry for their mothers. I sing them back to sleep, you see, and -”

“And you could get caught by one of the older ones!”

“There’s no use talking to her, Hook,” Tink sighs, “Tiger Lily and I have already tried.”

Killian narrows his eyes at Wendy, but she avoids his look by ripping into one of the parcels he’s bought. “Lace!” she squeals. “Oh, Hook, you shouldn’t have!”

He turns bright red as she hugs him again. “Well, you said your handkerchiefs were shabby and needed lace, and the king’s navy was carrying this ridiculous gift for the crown princess from the Duke of Glowerhaven. Lord knows that woman doesn’t need any more frippery when her people are starving, so -”

“Just admit Wendy’s got you wrapped around her little finger and stop babbling,” Tink laughs.

He doesn’t even attempt to deny it. He can’t find a way to get Wendy and her brother home; the least he can do is brighten their days in some small way.

“Hook,” Tink says, lowering her voice so Wendy can’t hear, “we need to talk.”

“In my experience, I’m never in for a pleasant conversation when a woman says that.”

Tink just rolls her eyes and pulls on his arm. Wendy is too busy with her sewing basket and the new lace to notice as the fairy pulls him down the hallway and into her room.

“Why Tink,” he teases with a wink, “if you were getting lonely, you could have just said so.”

Tink scowls at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Funny, but some females are immune to your charms, pirate.”

“Not many,” he can’t help teasing with an arch of his brow. It’s true. He hasn’t lacked for willing and eager company at any port, though none of his conquests have succeeded in filling the aching hole inside him.

“I need to show you something -” she lifts a hand and rushes to add, “in my books of fairy lore.”

Tink pulls a cracked and faded tome from her bookcase. It’s so old that a puff of dust billows up as she opens it. Killian chokes as he waves his hook in the air to clear it.

“Is this about the pixie trees dying?”

“The island dying you mean,” Tink corrects, “which means Pan is dying, too. He and the island are connected.”

“We knew all this already,” Hook says, shaking his head, “and the why really doesn’t matter, in my opinion.”

“What we didn’t know was the connection between that and the little ones the shadow kept bringing to Pan.”

“Like Mason and Michael.” Killian looks over Tink’s shoulder at the book. He can’t make sense of the fairy runes, but he does recognize a sketch in the middle of the page. “Is that a flower?”

“A buttercup, specifically,” Tink answers, “and according to this prophecy there will be a special child with this mark.”

Killian rubs at his chin. “Felix said Mason didn’t have the mark, and then Michael mentioned something about it as well.” He picks up the fragile book, balancing it gingerly on his hooked forearm so loose pages won’t fall out. “What else does the book say about this child?”

“That it will be a boy with the heart of the truest believer. That his lineage will be both royal and common, magical and non-magical.”

Killian lifts his gaze from the page before him to lock it upon Tink. The pale color upon her cheeks makes his heart sink.”What are you not saying?”

Tink moistens her lips nervously. “The worst part is . . . that the heart of this child can restore life to the dying. Renew magic that has been lost. That’s why Pan is looking for this child.”

“But the child dies so that bastard can live?”

Tink nods grimly as Hook slams the book shut. Fury rises in his chest as he thinks of Mason, now nine years old, a fine pirate already, looking more and more like Milah with each passing day. He thinks of Michael, only six years old and sleeping with such easy trust in the other room. He knows from experience how cold-blooded Pan can be, but this?

“Too long have I let this demon elude me,” Killian growls, slamming his hook into the wooden desk before him. “I’ll gut him like a fish; I’ll end him once and for all.”

“But Hook, you and your crew have had how many skirmishes with the lost boys?”

Killian’s eyes flash. “You doubt me?”

“Of course not, but we have to be realistic. Pan has magic, you don’t. It’s why he always gets the -” Tink breaks off suddenly, her face turning deep red. “That is, I mean.”

“You can bloody well say it,” Killian grumbles, “he always gets the upper hand.”

Tink winces, then tentatively reaches out to him. “What it comes down to is this - it’s time you and your crew went on the offense. You have to leave Neverland, and I don’t just mean to visit your favorite ports or wreck havoc on King George’s Navy. I mean leave. Use the pegasus sail to search the realms and find -”

“You’re leaving?”

Hook and Tink whirl to see Wendy standing in the doorway holding a tea tray in her trembling hands. The sight cuts him deep. For some reason, taking care of people is Wendy’s way of coping. She deserves better. Tears well in her eyes as she gazes up at him. She thinks he’s a bloody hero for some reason

“Hook, are you leaving? For good?”

He sighs as he reaches out gently to take the tray from her hands before she drops it. “Nothing’s been decided yet, lass, but I may need to take a lengthy voyage to find someone. A boy like your brother, actually.”

“What about us?” she asks, her eyes wide now and her breaths coming fast. “You said you’d find a way to get us home.”

Killian closes his eyes, silently cursing himself. It was a promise he never should have made. Tink and Tiger Lily have searched every book of magic they own, and he has inquired of sorcerers and enchantresses at every port. They still don’t know of an antidote for the waters of Rainbow Falls.

“This can be good for you and Michael too,” Tink puts in. “Searching different realms means a myriad of magical possibilities.”

“But how long?” Wendy whispers. He and Tink can’t answer that question. In the silence, Wendy does something that takes him completely by surprise. She flings herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “I’ll miss you. Please don’t be gone too long.”

Killian lifts his good hand tentatively and awkwardly pats Wendy on the head. He looks up nervously at Tink.

“I don’t even know where to begin looking.”

“Well,” Tink says hesitantly, “all we have to go on is the words of the prophecy. He’ll be very young, like the other boys. He’ll have one royal parent and one who is a commoner. One magical parent and one non-magical. Wait, no, I read this wrong . . . “

Killian steps away from Wendy to look again at the page Tink is perusing. Not that it makes any more sense to him now than it did moments ago.

“Of both a land of magic and a land of none.” Tink murmurs.

“Like my home,” Wendy says casually.

“Wait - what?” Killian asks, his heart suddenly pounding.

“My home,” she repeats, shrugging one shoulder, “there was no magic there. That’s why Michael and I kept going to the window to see the shadow. John told us it was silly but -”

“Wait a minute,” Killian says, shaking his head and taking in a sharp breath, “I’ve been to a land with no magic, too.”

****************************************

Killian stands in front of the old familiar wardrobe for what feels like the millionth time. Not once in the last five years has it led him anywhere. Perhaps it was only waiting for this day . . .

Tink and Wendy had wanted to come with him to see it, but he feels that he has to do this alone. His fingers twitch at his right side, and he has to take several deep breaths before he reaches for the handle. He knows what this means. If he is to search Emma’s realm for the boy, he’ll have to test fate and see what happens when he lets the light that can take him back home fade. He also is unsure how he will explain this to Emma, not that anything about their friendship has ever made sense.

He closes his eyes, counts to three, then pulls on the knob just as he opens his eyes again. His breath rushes out when he sees nothing but an empty wardrobe. Swearing under his breath, he climbs inside, pounds at the inside walls, but finds them sturdy and unyielding beneath his fist.

Killian jumps back out in frustration, slamming the door of the wardrobe behind him. He stalks to his desk, shoving things aside to make room for maps and star charts. He’s heard the names of many of the realms: Wonderland, Oz, Arendelle, Camelot, Narnia. He’s even discovered star charts that can get them there with the aid of the pegasus sail. But a land without magic? There’s only one way he’s ever gotten to a land like that, and it is apparently barred from him.

No matter. Tink said the boy was of a magical land as well. He’ll simply have to start there. He breathes heavily as his gaze sweeps over the stack of maps before him. Ever since he and Liam were lads, he’s been fascinated with maps. They both were. The Brothers Jones, planning adventures across the realms.

“If you were here, Liam . . . “ he trails off, hanging his head as memories wash over him. Then he takes a deep breath and tightens his jaw. “If you were here, you would find this boy. You would be the hero.”

He taps his hook in agitation as he begins to plot a course. He’s no hero, but he’ll do this for Liam. For Milah. For Wendy.

Meanwhile, in a Land Without Magic . . .

Olivia Bridges has been a social worker for twenty five long years, and she’s seen a lot of things in her caseload. Yet she’s never seen a case like this. It should have been a slim volume of straight forward paperwork. Infants given up at birth were always immediately adopted. This one was especially ideal - the birth mother wanted a closed adoption. Those were rare these days. A successful, single woman had adopted the boy, taking him home from the hospital days after his birth.

Then she’d brought him back a month later before she’d even signed the final papers. Colic.

Olivia rolls her eyes remembering. The woman didn’t deserve to be a mother in her opinion. Not that anyone ever listened to her opinion.

Yet the boy’s file still could have ended there. Colic or no colic. But it didn’t.

Olivia pats the boy’s knee now. He is three years old and still has no home, despite his adorable mop of brown hair and large eyes like melted chocolate. The reasons have varied: colic, night terrors, seizures. None of it should have mattered.

She smiles down at him and reminds him that someone is adopting him today. He looks silently up at her, and she wonders if he’s already cynical at three. She rises, takes his hand in hers, and leads him into the next room.

A young man turns and smiles at them as they enter. An adoption by a single man as young as this one is rare, but in this child’s case, it may be the only option left. Besides, the man has gone through every government hoop necessary. He’s invested a considerable sum of money and passed physicals, psychological profiles, and home studies with flying colors. He’s also recently engaged to his boyfriend of the past year (who’s also passed every test). Honestly, Olivia’s only concern is that this one sticks.

“John Darling,” Olivia says, “meet your new son.”

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​  @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @let-it-raines​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @winterbaby89​ @xhookswenchx​ @courtorderedcake​ @branlovestowrite​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @carpedzem​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @spartanguard​ @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot​​ @stahlop​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @superchocovian​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @snidgetsafan​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @nikkiemms​​@delirious-latenight-laughs​

[robinskey]

Coworkers (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Read Part Two Here

A/N: Okay, so this was going to be one long fic, but I decided to split it up into two parts. I’m hoping to get the other part out tomorrow, but I wanted to give you guys a little something tonight! I appreciate you all being patient with my erratic posting schedule as I settle into college. :) 

Warnings: Minor language, reader being clueless

Request: Heyyy could you do steve x fem! reader where reader thinks steve and robin are a thing and reader kinda ignores steve for a time until one day( he is super drunk) he goes to her house and just says he wants her back (even tho they never dated) thank you!!

You started working at Hawkins Family Video in the summer of 1985. It was just supposed to be a summer job so you could earn a little cash before college started. Then, after the scandal surrounding Hawkins Lab leaked, there was a mass exodus from Hawkins, which left your manager, Keith, short on employees. You decided to stay a few more weeks until he could find replacements. His search continued throughout the duration of August and bled into September, then October. Before long, mid-terms were rapidly approaching, and Keith still hadn’t hired a soul. That all changed about a week before Halloween.

New shipments always came in on Saturdays, so Keith had sent you into the back room to sort out the boxes while he manned the front desk. It was an unsurprisingly slow morning; people rarely stopped in before noon. Those who did just sort of quietly milled around the store, clearly just trying to waste time, since there wasn’t much else to do in Hawkins, Indiana. Thus, you were surprised to hear Keith start a conversation with someone. You couldn’t resist peeking your head out the door.

There were two gangly teenagers standing at the counter, staring intently at Keith. One was a tall, freckled girl with heavy eyeliner, high-waisted jeans, and a vaguely-familiar face. The guy standing next to her, though, you recognized immediately, thanks to his unforgettable head of hair. The last time you’d glimpsed that glorious mane was a few months ago, when it had been drenched in hair gel and squashed under a graduation cap. 

“Uh, just to be clear, we weren’t fired, you know,” the girl was saying. “The mall burned down and killed, like, a bunch of people.”

“Thanks for sharing. Didn’t know,” Keith said, somehow making a monotone ooze with sarcasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes; your boss was a lot of things, but “welcoming” wasn’t one of them. He pointed a finger at the girl and said, “Three favorite movies-go!”

She glanced around for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, then named The Apartment, Hidden Fortress, and Children of Paradise. Without showing any sign of acknowledgment, Keith turned to Steve, looking for his answers to the same question. You expected Steve Harrington to smoothly fire off a list of flicks featuring lots of action-packed scenes and scantily-clad women.

However, he just repeated Keith’s question, dumbfounded. Keith responded, “Did I stutter?”

Steve drew out a long “uh” before answering, “Animal House for sure, uh…” 

He brought his hand nervously to his lips, which he grazed over with his thumb. Oh, to be that thumb. His dark eyes darted around the room until Keith reminded him, “Eyes on me, Harrington.”

“Yeah, uh...Star Wars?” It sounded like more of a guess than an answer.

“A New Hope?” 

Steve stared at your boss blankly. “A new what now?”

Keith heaved a sigh. He was clearly already done with this kid. “Which Star Wars?”

“The one with the teddy bears, duh,” Steve said. 

He made a high-pitched noise that you figured was supposed to resemble an Ewok. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. You knew Keith wouldn’t be impressed, though, so part of you felt sorry for the poor boy.

Wait, poor boy? This was King Steve you were talking about. The last thing his big head he needed was for his head to get even more inflated with your sympathy.

“Hmph, no?” he asked. His female companion ducked her head, effectively hiding her face. Then, excitement lit up Steve’s features, and he started ticking things off on his fingers. “Oh! The movie that just came out. The one with the DeLorean, and Alex P. Keaton, and he’s trying to bang his mom-”

Was that...Harrington’s synopsis of Back to the Future? Really? God, was this guy okay? I mean, you knew he’d smoked a little in high school, but you didn’t know marijuana could do permanent brain damage. 

“Yeah. Those are my top three. Classics,” Steve murmured. He cast his gaze down awkwardly. Because as clueless as Steve Harrington could be, he still knew what was coming next.

Keith confirmed everyone’s suspicions by telling the girl, “You start Monday,” and telling Steve, “You start never.”

Steve blinked, the hurt evident in his chocolate eyes, even from a distance. The girl leaned into him, gently bumping her shoulder against his.  “Will you just, um-will you give us a minute?” she asked, gesturing to Keith. 

“Why?”

“Steve,” she said gently. The message she communicated through her gaze must have been convincing, since Steve simply nodded once before sliding his resume off the counter and walking over to a display. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, the girl leaned forward on the counter. She spoke barely above a whisper, and you had to strain to hear as she defended her partner’s honor. You crept up the aisle to get closer to the action in hopes of catching the rest of the conversation. 

“He’s a douchebag of the highest order, Robin,” Keith was saying.

That was when the mystery girl’s identity finally clicked. This was Robin Buckley-band geek, language nerd, school genius. You’d gone to high school together. She was a year younger and way too smart for her own good, so you didn’t share many classes, but you’d had the same homeroom last year.

“He was a bit of a prick to us in high school; I’ll grant you that, but he remains…” Robin threw a glance toward Steve, who was admiring the cover of every single movie on the shelf. “...a total chick magnet.”

The guy who’d just made an Ewok sound moments earlier? Yeah, okay.

“Yeah, okay,” Keith said, mimicking your thoughts. You made a mental note to try to spend less time with Keith so his terrible personality didn’t rub off on you too much. “And this is relevant to me how?”

Robin’s jaw practically dropped. She spoke, voice full of drama: “Earth to Keith. The ladies will come in just to see him. They’ll come in in droves. Droves, Keith. We sold so much ice cream that they had to get a second shipment from Michigan. Goddamn Michigan, Keith. And these ladies...these ladies are hot. They are so very hot. And there are too many for little Steve. He needs assistance. He needs your assistance, Keith.”

“What’s in it for you? You got a thing for him or somethin’?”

There was a loud clatter as Steve bumped into a cardboard cutout of a woman in a bikini. (You really didn’t understand why you even had that thing at a place that called itself a “Family Video” store. However, when you’d questioned it, Keith had just told you to “find something better if you don’t like that one”, and you weren’t about to spend your already-scarce income on a lifesize cardboard cutout.) The cardboard lady tumbled to the floor, despite Steve’s best efforts to rescue her. As he awkwardly tried to restore her to her former position, Robin turned back to Keith.

“We’re just-um-we’re just friends,” she said, even though the slight blush that sprung to her cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise.

“Oh! Fast Times,” Steve exclaimed, putting the fake woman back into place. He read from the caption at her feet. “Fast Times. Ever heard of it? Top three for me.”

Robin let out a twinkling laugh, and Steve smiled back at her.  

You didn’t understand why that simple exchange twisted your stomach into a knot.

Taglists:

General: @novaddictx @anabundanceoffandoms @rexorangecouny @morganvanilla@anolddayslover

Steve: @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh@peterhollandd

Stranger Things: @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

[gamerwoo]

Lucas: Tough

Anonymous asked: I know requests aren’t open, but like when they are I request you write Lucas mates exactly how you want (put me first on the waiting list)

Characters: Lucas x female reader (featuring Renjun, Jeno, and Kun)

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, way too much fluff and crack but it wouldn’t be a Lucas fic without it, only veeeeery slight angst like it’s barely there

Word count: 6,638

Summary: Lucas looks like the stereotypical player. He gets attention from boys and girls alike, and he’s quite the smooth talker. But he’s the biggest softy anybody would ever meet. A stark contract to you, who looks like you’ll murder anybody who just looks at you the wrong way, and you absolutely would which is why you don’t really have any friends. But there’s something about this tall idiot that starts blabbering to you in at least three different languages that makes you hate one less person on campus.

a/n: I may or may not have stolen a couple lines from some old 5sos videos bc uh they fit perfectly w the dynamic for Lucas and his mate lmao (thanks, Star)

Truthfully, yes, Lucas liked the attention. It wasn’t because he liked being openly flirted with, he just liked having people around and trying to make new friends. He was probably too friendly for his own good, as people seemed to mistake his happy and open personality to be him flirting back. That was how he got his title as being a player and a fuckboy. But he wasn’t, he just liked people!

His pack always wondered why he didn’t just date somebody. He had plenty of options since he could get just about anybody he wanted, and he had lots of affection and love to spare. He was always talking about how he wanted somebody of his own to hold and coddle, but he never actually asked anybody out.

But he was waiting for ‘the one’. The person that would change his entire world as soon as he laid eyes on them. That would make his heart race and his eyes only look at them. He was waiting for his mate.

Unfortunately, he had yet to find them.

Renjun and Jeno sat in the library where they watched Lucas from a different table where their pack brother had yet to notice them. Instead, he was surrounded by various girls, one of which, they could tell was was heavily flirting with him from the way she leaned toward him when she giggled and touched his arm constantly. 

“I’ll never understand it...” Jeno said, shaking his head as he scrunched up his face when the girl repeated her same flirting technique again.

“What, that so many girls will throw themselves at him?” Renjun guessed with a scoff. “I don’t get that, either.”

“No, how he can just...put up with it,” Jeno clarified. “Doesn’t dealing with all of that constant flirting and getting hit on get really annoying?”

“It’s Yukhei, he loves attention,” Renjun rolled his eyes.

Which was why they were surprised when Lucas straight up ignored all the attention for somebody who wasn’t giving him the time of day. They watched as Lucas did a double take, watching as some girl walked by the table. She had a sour look on her face as she passed the girls all there for the same reason: to hit on Wong Yukhei. But the two boys burst into loud laughter as Lucas put his large hand over the giggly girl’s face and gently pushed her away as she was speaking to him before he got up and walked around the crowd of women to follow after the other girl.

Of course, the laughter and snorting caused the group of girls to glare over toward Jeno and Renjun, but they didn’t even care. But they also were unsure as to why exactly Lucas had gone after some girl when he was waiting to--

Renjun and Jeno exchanged looks, all laughter dying down.

You were a loner of sorts. Being an exchange student, most people didn’t really talk to you. You didn’t mind it since you’d rather be left alone, anyway. You didn’t really like people, and you preferred being by yourself. Maybe that was why you couldn’t help but make a face as you walked passed a large group of girls that were giggling at what you could only assume was a guy -- and judging from the things you’d heard all over campus, it was this Lucas guy.

You didn’t know who he was, you just knew he had like, 3 different names, and everybody loved him. That fact alone made you not like him at all -- especially if he was really the reason for all of these giggling girls gathering in the library.

A tap on your shoulder brought you from your irritated thoughts, turning and ready to chew out whoever it was that was bothering you. However, once you looked up into the eyes of the tall boy in front of you, your mouth just hung open, the harsh words you were ready to spit at him completely lost on you now.

“Hi!” he grinned warmly like you were old friends. “I’m Lucas.”

‘Oh, fuck no,’ was all you could think.

You had no idea what was happening to you. You’d never just suddenly felt so...so... You didn’t even know how to describe how you felt looking at Lucas. You’d never felt it before, though. Was he really just that beautiful or something?

And were you still standing there gaping up at Lucas like an idiot?

Finally, you collected yourself enough to shake your head and break the weird trance you were in because of the tall boy in front of you. You swiftly turned away from him and walked away without saying anything, leaving Lucas watching you leave with a curious expression and a cocked head, looking like a puppy.

Seeing the whole thing, Renjun and Jeno walked over, Jeno clapping a hand on the older boy’s shoulder.

“That’s _____ _____,” Renjun told him, recognizing you from the dark clothes, the eyebrow piercing, and the fact that he’d bumped into you once and you sneered at him. “She’s kind of...”

He let his voice trail off, not wanting to insult his brother’s mate even though, well, you were kind of a bitch -- at least, that’s what you let everybody think.

“So she’s a little grumpy,” Jeno shrugged, patting his brother’s shoulder while Renjun rolled his eyes at the obvious understatement, “she’ll come around eventually. She has to, right?”

And just then, they turned their heads toward you as you stomped back over to them, shoved a torn piece of paper into Lucas’s chest, and stomped away again as you grumbled to yourself in a language they couldn’t understand. The three boys’ eyes went straight to the paper as Lucas unfolded it to see a phone number scrawled on it.

Lucas’s face broke into a wide grin as he let out a squeal of a laugh.

“A lot sooner than I thought,” Jeno mused.

-

Now that Lucas had met you, finding you was easy. All he had to do was follow the imprinting pull, and there you were! But he also had to learn to control himself, because he tried to go find you at 2am because he wanted to see you, and Kun had to all but tie him to his bed. 

The next few days were all the same. You were suddenly seeing Yukhei everywhere, and he would start talking to you in a variety of languages. Some of them, you couldn’t even understand. He wouldn’t even let you get a word in, either. He would just start spewing word vomit, and then he’d immediately leave with reddened cheeks only to come find you again after the next class. You weren’t sure how he was finding you or what was going on, and you still had no idea why your heart fluttered whenever he came around or why you just wanted to reach out and hold his giant dumb hand.

It took all week for the conversation to not be one-sided, but it was only because something in you snapped and couldn’t take the feelings bubbling up inside you whenever you saw Lucas. He had walked up to you and started babbling in what you could only assume was a Chinese language, but as he turned to leave like he always did, you reached out and grabbed onto his wrist. But instead of something cute or sweet coming out of your mouth, you said...quite the opposite.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Lucas’s eyes went wide as he turned back to face you. This was the first time he’d heard anything come out of your mouth, and despite it being words that weren’t the most polite, it was like hearing the most amazing song for the first time ever. He wanted to hear you speak to him again.

“U-um, I said...” he trailed off, suddenly realizing he actually didn’t even remember what he’d just said, let alone if he was saying it in a language he knew you’d understand. “What did I say...?”

“You’re really weird,” you stated, your hand still wrapped around his wrist without you realizing.

But Lucas loved it. Where your skin made contact, it was like electricity for him. He even moved his hand so he could take yours, and that’s what made you realize you were still holding onto him before. But even with him holding your hand, for some reason, you didn’t want to pull away.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” he laughed warmly with a shrug. “I’m sorry for confusing you. I just really wanted to speak to you, but you kinda make me like, really nervous, so...yeah.”

Your nose scrunched, “Why do I make you nervous?”

Almost immediately, your mind went to, ‘Well, it could be the piercings or the clothes or the fact you conditioned yourself to have resting bitch face.’

‘But he’s also the size of a giant, and judging from the size of his arms, he could crush me.’

‘Valid points.’

And then you found yourself just staring at his arms through the muscle tank he was wearing.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, the happy smile still on his face, and his large, warm hand still wrapped around yours like he’d held it a million times before this, “you’re just...you!”

You peeled your gaze away from his biceps to narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me get to know you.”

You laughed at the idea, finally pulling your hand out of his and trying to ignore how cold your skin felt without him touching you, “Yeah, that’s a no from me.”

“C’mon,” he said, his smile not faltering one bit, “why not just like-- Ooh! Twenty questions!”

“I don’t have time to stand here and answer twenty questions from you,” you sneered.

Still, Lucas kept smiling. You wondered if his face was broken. Or if something in his head had short circuited.

“Ten?”

“No.”

“Five?”

“You’re real persistent, huh?”

“Three!”

You groaned loudly, your head dropping back, “If I agree, will you stop bugging me?”

“Yeah!” he nodded eagerly. “Well, maybe. I don’t know!”

You sighed, figuring that was as good as you were gonna get with this guy. Running your fingers through your hair, you shifted your wait from one foot to the other as you studied the chipper boy in front of you.

“Five questions,” you stated. “That’s all you get.”

“Great!” he grinned before he turned and practically ran the other way.

“Wait!” you called after him, making him immediately stop in his tracks and turn to face you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To pick the perfect questions!” he told you before he raced off.

You just stood there, watching him go. He was definitely something else. Still, despite his irritating persistence, you didn’t find yourself hating him. It was...weird. You kind of liked that he bugged you. You...kind of liked...him.

You felt eyes staring at you, so you turned your head to see a small group looking at you curiously. They’d actually been watching you and Lucas the whole time because nobody could believe that Lucas was not only the one flirting now, but he’d chosen you of all people to flirt with.

“Oh, fuck off,” you snapped at them before you pulled your backpacks straps tighter and stomped off to your next class -- which you were now late for, thanks to Lucas.

-

Kun walked through the door, leaving his keys on the keyring on the wall as he kicked off his shoes. The first thing he saw was Lucas sitting on the floor by the coffee table, jotting down furiously in a notebook. He’d never seen Lucas study this hard.

“What, is there an important test you didn’t study for?” the older boy guessed as he walked further into the apartment.

He didn’t sense any signs of their two youngest roommates, so he assumed they were somewhere else in the building with somebody else in the pack. 

When Lucas didn’t reply, Kun walked closer to him and looked over his shoulder, “Hello? Earth to Yukhei.”

Lucas finally stopped, tilting his head back to look up at Kun, “Huh?”

When Kun finally got a good look at Lucas’s ‘notes’, he sort of understood what was happening. The pack had heard from Renjun and Jeno about Lucas imprinting -- he got a mix of congratulations and relentless teasing, especially when it was revealed who he had imprinted on -- so Kun should’ve guessed that’s what Lucas’s focus was on right now. What he still didn’t understand was why Lucas had written down a plethora of questions into his notebook. Some were more conventional, while others were just...weird.

Does she have a fear of killer clowns?

Did she ever see Phantom of the Opera and did she enjoy it?

Would she rather fight 1 horse-sized piranha or 10 piranha-sized horses?

Kun just clicked his tongue as he scanned the page that was full of questions.

Lucas covered the page with his arms like he was taking a test and didn’t want Kun getting the answers, “I’m doing something.”

“I can see that,” Kun nodded. “Care to explain?”

Lucas sighed, letting his pencil drop onto the notebook as he sat back and ran both hands through his hair, “_____ is letting me ask her five questions, and I want to make sure they’re deep enough that I can know her as well as possible.”

“And you think that knowing if she’d rather take on a giant fish or tiny horses is the way to go?” he chuckled, smoothly sitting crisscross beside Lucas on the floor.

“I’m just writing down a bunch of questions I’d ask her if I had the chance, and then I’ll narrow it down,” Lucas explained, gesturing to the paper. “The problem is, I want to know everything about her. I want to know what she’s thinking at all times and what kind of future she wants and if she’s scared of the dark and her favorite scent and--”

“Yeah, I get it, dude,” Kun laughed softly, patting his brother’s back. “You know, this is just the first step to getting to do all that. You just have to be patient and not screw this up. But you also need to remember that she feels that connection toward you, too. You’ll end up together, you just need to take baby steps, okay?”

Lucas nodded, giving a grateful smile to the older wolf, “Okay, I got it. Thanks, Kun. Also, do you mind helping me narrow it down?”

“Alright, well first thing you need to do,” Kun began, picking up the pencil and drawing a line through a question about your weight, “is never ask anybody that.”

“It’s an important question!”

“Do you wanna get hit?”

Lucas shrugged, “I dunno, depends on the situation.”

-

You didn’t see Lucas for a week. The only traces of him you saw were him smiling and waving to you when you’d see him around campus, accompanied with a cheery, “hi, ____!” that made your heart swell for a reason you still didn’t understand.

You also didn’t understand why you missed seeing him and having him talk to you, even if it was in languages you didn’t know. Part of you debated going up to him whenever you saw him, but you always forced yourself to keep walking. You also knew you had his number since he texted you ever now and then, but you didn’t want to text him first, either. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, but you hated and loved it at the same time. It was all very conflicting.

On Friday, Lucas had decided he had the perfect five questions to ask you, so he tracked you down by following the pull. It was the end of the day, but you were still in the library where you were sitting alone at a table with a laptop open in front of you. He saw that you had both headphones in your ears, but he still strode over and sat down across from you anyway, his classic smile still stuck on his face.

When you saw movement across from you, you slowly looked away from your screen and up at the grinning boy. You tugged on headphone out, letting the bud fall and hang by the wire.

“Hi!” he chirped.

You just nodded your head in a greeting.

You then watched as he took a folded piece of paper out from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table before he opened it, “I have questions.”

You chuckled, finding the fact he actually wrote them down to be kind of adorable.

‘Since when do you find anything adorable?’

Were you possibly losing your mind? Yes.

“Alright, shoot,” you sighed as you closed your laptop and folded your hands together on top of it.

“First,” he interrupted, holding up a finger as he gave you a serious look. This was the first time he looked at you without smiling, and you couldn’t help but think that the way he looked at you with wide eyes made him look like a puppy, “you have to promise you’ll answer 100% truthfully.”

You just shrugged, “I have nothing to hide.”

But then Lucas held out his pinkie, wanting you to link yours with his, and you suddenly felt a flood of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. Reluctantly, you wrapped your pinkie around his, trying to ignore the warm feeling touching him gave you.

His smile returned, his eyes moving down to his paper when he’d removed his hand, “First question: what languages can you speak?”

“Spanish, Portuguese, Korean, and Thai,” you replied boredly, resting your chin in one of your hands.

Lucas brightened at this, “Are you Thai?”

You nodded, giving him a weird look, “Yeah... My mom’s from--”

“Me too!” he burst loud enough for people nearby to give quizzical looks and glares to the both of you.

You put a finger to your lips, and Lucas only giggled, rolling his eyes.

“How do you know Spanish and Portuguese though?” he wondered.

“Is this one of your other 4 questions?” you asked.

“No.”

“Then I don’t have to answer.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows in amusement but still didn’t seem swayed by your snappy tone. He seemed to enjoy watching you put up this tough front more than anything and you couldn’t think of why he’d possibly like that.

Dramatically, he cleared his throat before continuing, “What’re you studying?”

“Astronomy,” you replied.

“Ooh, like horoscopes?” he asked excitedly, practically bouncing in his chair.

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head, “That’s astrology.”

“There’s a difference?”

You fought the smile trying to take over your face as you shook your head.

‘You’re an actual idiot,’ you thought, only to hear somebody else repeat your thoughts at the same time but in a laugh that would almost be considered...fond.

It was you. You said it out loud. You were, in fact, the actual idiot.

Lucas only smirked at you, not bothering to even tease you about your slip-up. Seeing your eyes go wide while your cheeks burned red before you quickly averted your gaze was enough for him, causing deep happy rumbles in his chest that you could barely hear -- you thought the building was making noises or something.

“What’s your favorite thing in the whole world?” he continued.

“Being left alone,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Lucas quirked an eyebrow, “You sure that one’s the truth?”

Your eyes shot over to him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he giggled to himself, eyes going back to his paper.

What he didn’t tell you was that he knew very well you liked being near him. He’d seen how you were with other people, and he knew very well that if you really hated him, you would’ve scared him off before he even sat down in the chair across from you. Lucas may have come across as dumb to some people, but he was quite smart and observant, especially when it came to you.

“What’s the one thing you want to do before you die?” he asked.

The seriousness of the question took you off guard, your eyes softening as you looked at Lucas who was looking back at you with the same doe eyes. You softly bit your lip, looking down at your laptop before your eyes flashed back up to Lucas.

“One thing?” you asked, your voice quieter than it had been before.

He shrugged, “You can pick more than one.”

Honestly, he just wanted to listen to you speak more -- and he was paying close attention to every answer you gave him.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to open up to him so suddenly. There were a lot of things you wanted to do before you died, but you weren’t sure if they were ‘in the cards’ for you, so to speak. But you shook your head, remembering that Lucas was just some guy even if you did feel your insides melt to mush just being in his presence, and you didn’t like people anyway. Therefore, you did not open up to anybody.

Not even cute, tall, multilingual boys who looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“I want to graduate and get my degree,” you decided with a tiny shrug, averting your eyes like you’d told him your biggest secret or something.

Lucas smiled softly, his head tilting to one side as he looked at you like you held all the stars in the sky. You glanced up at him when he stayed silent, only to see him looking at you like that, and your entire face turned red, even reaching your ears.

“Yah, stop looking at me like that!” you whined.

He only laughed softly in return, his attention completely on you instead of his paper now. He didn’t even look away as he said in almost a dreamy voice, “Last question.”

You nodded, still avoiding his eyes, “What is it?”

“Do you like me?”

Your heart skipped a beat -- Lucas heard it loud and clear with his heightened senses -- and your skin somehow burned even hotter. You suddenly felt way too exposed in every sense of the word, almost like you just knew Lucas knew what you were thinking and how you were feeling. Subconsciously, you pulled your denim jacket tighter around you.

“No...” you grumbled, but you still couldn’t look at him.

“_____,” he sang in a teasing tone, “you promised not to lie to me...”

Your pouty glare in response was enough answer for him, letting out a loud, deep laugh that made your heart flutter. You huffed, standing up and collecting things into your bag. Lucas stood with you, going over to your side of the table.

“Can I take you on a date, then?” he wondered, standing so close to you that your arms were just barely brushing against each other.

“You already asked your five questions,” you told him, your voice sounding more like a grumpy child to him than an intimidating tone.

Lucas wasn’t even hurt by your words as you walked away with your things, leaving the library to go home. He continued to watch you until you were out of his sight. When the doors closed, that’s when he felt his phone vibrate.

He pulled it out of his pocket, looking down to see it was from you -- he’d only texted you a couple times beforehand, but it was always him that texted first. He was shocked that this time, it was you.

In the message was your address, followed by, ‘if you’re not there at 7pm sharp, I’m not going’.

He grinned to himself before he texted back that he promised to be right on time.

-

How you ended up at an amusement park, you weren’t sure. You did think the way all the rides lit up was pretty, but you still weren’t sure why Lucas looked at you and thought ‘yeah, she’ll like an amusement park. she looks like a fun person!’

But Lucas was holding your hand right as the two of you walked through the gates, so all complaints were left in your head because you didn’t trust your voice to speak when you were so flustered.

How did a boy break you like this?

He’d already taken you on rides, and he even paid for some overpriced amusement park food, but he still insisted there was one thing the two of you had to do before the date ended: games.

“I’m winning you something,” he promised with a sure nod as he led you toward the booths. Your hand was still engulfed in his large one, towing you behind him as you tried your best to avoid touching anybody in the crowd. “What do you want? One of those giant bears? A unicorn? Oh, I think they had minions over--”

“For the love of god, don’t get me a minion,” you groaned quietly.

He chuckled, “Got it. So...standard bear is okay?”

“I can win it myself,” you grumbled, tugging on his hand as he stopped at one of those ‘test your strength’ games.

“_____--”

“I can do it!” you insisted.

“Alright...” Lucas smirked, handing money over to the man before the man handed you a hammer -- a very heavy hammer.

Your eyes widened as the hammer dropped as soon as the man let go. Both of your hands were holding it, dragging your upper body until you were bent over, still gripping the weighted mallet.

“You alright?” Lucas chuckled.

“I...got it!” you huffed as you stood up straight, dragging the hammer with you over to the target.

“You don’t look like you got it, _____.”

“Shush!”

You managed to lift the mallet over your shoulder, taking a deep breath before you swung it down as hard as you could, hitting the target. But the little marker didn’t even make it halfway up the slider.

“Do you want me to--”

“Let me try again,” you insisted, turning to send a glare to your date.

He chuckled, amusement clear on his face, “You really shouldn’t...”

“I do what I want,” you muttered as Lucas handed the man more money, “I’m punk rock.”

He heard that loud and clear, bursting into loud laughter that had people passing by looking over at him -- and even some of the workers.

“You are not!” he giggled.

“Are so!” you protested.

“_____, having an eyebrow piercing doesn’t make you punk rock, and being punk rock doesn’t make you strong enough to win this game.”

It was definitely new to you to have somebody stand up to you like that. You’ve always hated people, you’ve always been upfront about it, and you’ve never had anybody tell you otherwise. Yet here was this six-foot-whatever dude who looked intimidating, was actually a fluff ball, and stood up to you like you were a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

Why did you actually find it kind of endearing?

“Fine,” you frowned, turning to face him, “you do it then.”

“No, you try again first,” he told you, waving you to go back to the game. “You might get it a little higher.”

“You just said--!”

“I said you’re not punk rock or whatever,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “but I never said you were weak. Just give it another shot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. He knew you were going to do shitty, so why was he telling you to go again -- encouraging it, even, “You’re wasting your money.”

“No I’m not.”

“But you know I won’t do it.”

“But you’re having fun trying to prove me wrong, right? And I like watching you have fun, so it’s not a waste of money.”

Your frown fell from your face, and you weren’t really sure what kind of expression replaced it. Whatever it was, it made Lucas smile so fondly that you thought his eyes were actually going to turn into big, red, cartoon-y hearts.

So you turned back to the game, put the hammer over your shoulder, and swung it down with whatever strength you had left in your body -- even grunting because that apparently makes you hit harder according to every boy in your high school gym class. While the marker didn’t hit the bell -- not even close -- it did go higher than last time. You had to admit, you felt a little smug.

“See?” Lucas grinned, clapping like you’d actually done something.

You huffed, turning back to face him again, “Just get over here and get the showing me up part over with.”

When he strolled over to you, he actually looked cocky -- and kind of hot, but you refused to feed into that thought. He paid the man again before taking the hammer from your hands, holding it like it weighed nothing.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, going to stand where he had to watch you. It was obvious he was flexing as he readied the hammer to be swung down, but you caught yourself falling for the trap and staring blatantly. Lucas noticed from the corner of his eye, smirking to himself.

Lucas swung the hammer down, sending the marker soaring up to the bell until it rung so loud that it kind of hurt your ears -- you had no idea what it did to his, but all he did was wince.

The man handed him one of the large panda bears, handing it over to Lucas who proudly walked over to you and handed it to you.

“His name is Xuxi,” he told you as you wrapped your arms around its large stomach.

“Huh... Sounds familiar,” you said in a tone that had a hint of teasing.

“Good name, right?”

You just shrugged, hiding your blushing face against the bear’s head as Lucas put an arm around your shoulders, “I-it’s alright...”

-

After the date, Lucas hanging around you was typical. Even holding your hand and putting an arm around you was normal. He hadn’t kissed you or hugged you or anything, but he did small touches like that, and you blushed just as hard every single time.

He’d also taken you out a couple more times. It was actually nice hanging out with Lucas, and you found yourself planning other times to hang out over the three weeks that passed since the first date.

[Yukhei]: can I take you out again soon?

[You]: yeah, when?

[Yukhei]: idk when’s good for you??

[You]: thursday?

[Yukhei]: can’t

[You]: friday?

[Yukhei]: thursday to monday is bad

[Yukhei]: and probably wednesday just to be safe

[You]: ??? why

[Yukhei]: heat

[You]: uh??? what

[Yukhei]: did i not tell you i go into heat then??

You were sitting in the library, procrastinating by texting Lucas. But nobody noticed when you lowered your phone away from your face and stared at nothing in particular with confusion written all over your face. Going into heat? What, was he some kind of dog all of a sudden?

[Yukhei]: ......

[Yukhei]: wait

[Yukhei]: i didn’t tell you about that yet

[Yukhei]: can you come over when you’re done?

You let out a sigh, collecting your things into your bag to leave. You figured this was all probably nothing -- probably just another lame joke he was trying to play -- but you left the library to go to his apartment anyway. You’d been there once or twice, so you remembered where it was, and you knew he had roommates there so nothing would happen.

The first time he ever invited you over, you threatened to pepper spray him, and one of them laughed when Lucas told them the story.

You made the 45 minute walk to Lucas’s apartment, going right up to his floor. Before you could even knock, he already had the door open as if he had been waiting for you or something.

“So?” you asked as you stepped through the door.

“Okay, so,” he began as he closed the door, but he began in a completely different way than you expected, “when a werewolf goes into heat, it means that--”

“What?” you asked, cutting him off as you looked up at him like he was going insane.

“What?” he asked innocently.

Your rubbed your face with your hands a few times before you finally dropped them to your side, “Literally nothing you just said to me makes any sense, Lucas. Is this another dumb joke of yours because it’s really awful.”

“I don’t-- ...Ohhh...” you watched as realization filled his eyes. “I didn’t tell you the werewolf thing, did I?”

“Where the fuck did you get ‘werewolves’ from?” you asked.

“From...me,” he shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes, not following at all, “What?”

Lucas didn’t see the point in making a big deal out of this, especially when he thought he’d told you already. Maybe he’d dreamed it or something, but he thought you knew about it. Still, he didn’t see the point in beating around the bush or trying to make it some big thing. He wanted to just tell you and get it out of the way so you’d know everything about him and how he felt about you.

“Yeah, I’m werewolf,” he shrugged again like it was nothing at all.

You stared at him for a beat of silence before snorting and shaking your head, “Are you sure you’re not confusing a word in the Korean language for something else? Do you know what you’re saying to me?”

“Yes, I know what I’m saying,” he nodded. “I can say it in Mandarin or English if you’d like.”

You frowned, “You promised not to speak in languages I can’t understand.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at your expression, shaking his head, “Do you want me to prove it to you instead?”

He found it amusing the way you warily eyed him up and down.

“How...?”

Lucas put his hands on your shoulders, bringing you to stand by the door as he backed up to the center of the room. You watched as he started to shake a little bit before his eyes melted from brown to gold, and his fingernails started extending into long claws. Your eyes widened, backing up toward the door, but hitting something much softer instead.

“Oh, I’m sor-- Yukhei, what the fuck are you doing?!” Kun cried, running toward his brother and throwing himself on him to stop him from shifting. 

The two boys landed on the floor beside the coffee table, Lucas letting out a soft, “Ow...”

You were frozen in place, unsure of what was happening at all. It was like your brain just completely stopped working, blinking and barely breathing being the only things you could do.

“I can’t leave any of you alone for an hour,” Kun huffed as he got to his feet before he reached down to help up his brother. “Seriously, what the hell are you thinking?!”

“_____ didn’t believe me!” Lucas whined, gesturing to you. “You didn’t have to throw me on the floor...”

Kun turned to look at you with an expression that looked like he was trying to think over things before he looked back at Yukhei, “Were you...explaining everything...?”

Lucas nodded, “Yeah, kinda.”

Kun let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he hit himself in the forehead, “God... I guess I’m the idiot that wasn’t thinking, huh?”

“Is somebody going to explain what’s going on?!” you finally burst.

The two boys looked over to you like they were just now remembering you were there. Kun quietly excused himself, slipping passed you and out of the apartment before Lucas slowly made his way over to you, golden eyes still on full display as he smiled his same Lucas smile.

“I already told you,” he laughed softly, taking both of your hands in his -- the claws were gone now, and you made sure as you lifted them up to inspect closely. “And I need to tell you because that means you’re my mate.”

Your eyes snapped up to his face, “What?”

“I imprinted on you,” he said nonchalantly. “You know what that means, right? I had to Google it the first time I heard it because--”

“Yes, Yukhei, I know what it means,” you told him quickly, your eyes closing as your brain finally tried to put all of this information into a coherent...thing. “So... Okay, I don’t know what this means, actually.”

He giggled, leading you over to the couch and sitting you down with him, keeping your hands in his, “It means I’m in love with you, _____. More than in love, actually. And I will be for the rest of our lives.”

Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you were sure anybody in the building could hear, and you felt your face burning with his statement. He loved you? ...Was that what that feeling you kept feeling was? 

“Don’t overthink it,” he chuckled, being able to basically see the gears turning in your head just from the look on your face. “I can explain all the details later, I promise. All I need to know right now is if you accept me.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You closed it, trying to figure out what exactly to say to his question, but all you could think of was a question of your own.

“Why did you imprint on me?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

You frowned, realizing how weak you sounded.

Lucas didn’t seem to understand the question, cocking his head to one side, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Have you met me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“How could you like me?”

“I don’t. I love you.”

Your face turned a deeper shade of red as you tried to hide it without being too obvious, “Yah, don’t say that!”

“What?” he giggled, loving how he could easily get you so flustered.

“Stop teasing me!” you whined.

“That’s basically, all the fun parts, though!”

You huffed as you pulled your hands from his to fold your arms over your chest. Lucas only leaned closer to you, his head resting on your shoulder now as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Are you going to answer me?” he wondered in a sing-song voice.

“Answer what?” you grumbled.

“Do you accept me as your mate?” he batted his eyelashes this time.

You looked down at him, stood up, and marched out the door. But Lucas just stared at the closed door after you slammed it shut with eyebrows raised expectantly. He knew you all too well, and he knew exactly what was going to come next.

A knock at the door.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up to go open the door. As soon as he did, you had grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to you so you could press your lips to his with enough force to even take him by surprise -- and he was stronger than any human.

You could feel him smiling against your lips as he held your waist, feeling vibrations against your chest that were coming from his own in happy rumbles and purrs.

Surprisingly, he was the one to pull away, keeping his hands on you to bring you back into the apartment.

“I still don’t know what you meant when you said you’ll be busy next week,” you told him as he closed the apartment door.

“Ah...” he let out a nervous laugh, “don’t worry about it for now.”

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Soulless Riffing: Brainless Ch. 7 + 8

I got a supernatural action/romance book series as a gift that’s just riddled with stuff that I hate….and as a steampunk Victorian London action romance story filled with werewolves and vampires…it’s yeah gonna be easy to poke fun at.

I just want to say, it’s totally cool if you like this story or ones like it!  It’s certainly a better caliber than a lot of what I make fun of…however…I can’t help but want to make fun of it.

Over here for the 1st chapter, 2nd chapter, 3rd chapter, 4th chapter, 5th chapter, and 6th chapter.

7 is a short one so I’m doubling up.  SO FUCK IT HERE GOES!

We have another page and a half of our dip-shit leads making out before they decide they can’t get carried away.  Of course, just as they’re gathering themselves the good professor and Ivy (inexplicably) show up.  The prof whispers urgent BUR news to Maccon.  So Maccon rushes off to deal with it, with the promise that he’s going to send someone to replace Lyall on guard duty cause he looks 8 levels of exhausted.  Immediately after that Alexia begins to grill Lyall on what the BUR business could possibly be, since she’s on that case too.

HAHA JUST KIDDING!

She instead grills Lyall on werewolf courting rituals.

Gotta say Prof. Lyall is a fucking saint, cause even if I was highly energized I would have no patience to continuously consul a 26 year old woman going, “Okay he just told to me, to my face that he likes me…BUT DOES HE LIKE ME!?”

He basically tells her that women are supposed to make the moves in werewolf culture and that he does in fact like her.  But thankfully Prof. Lyall  is relieved of babysitting duties by a polite, meathead-looking dude who goes by Mr. Haverbink.  When the girls head into another room, Ivy turns to Alexia and says,

“Ah, for the countryside, what scenery there abides…,”

Alexia congratulates her on saying something wicked. And like huh??? There’s no mention of where Haverbink is from.  I tried looking up that quote, in case there was some context I’m missing but it only brings me back to this book.  I think she’s trying to say that Mr.Haverbink is hunky? Or the opposite?  Oh well! THIS IS DEFINITELY A WELL-WRITTEN BOOK!

Say something Nice Faps:

During this chapter’s making-out Alexia takes charge and bites the hell out of Maccon’s neck while he squirms in ecstasy.  I hate these two, but I love sexually aggressive women and enthusiastically submissive men.  

Also biting is hot, I am here for that.

I’m headcanoning Ivy’s perplexing quote as her being horny for musclemen, and Alexia celebrating that horniness.  I’m so glad Ivy isn’t framed as some pathetic outcast that Alexia keeps around to make herself feel better.

Chapter 8

This chapter starts with Alexia’s clones I MEAN AWFUL FAMILY showing up and bragging about the expensive clothing they just bought. Her step-father shrugs exasperated at this, for he is a cucked man holding the purses of the women whom he serves. 

Sorry author I can’t hear your implicit judgment about how terrible ~passive~ men are over the sound of MacDougall squealing in delight as I crop the hell out of that sweet tushy.

Alexia judges the hell out of her family for buying expensive clothes, while wearing a forest green carriage dress with gold filigree buttons down the front, and an elegant new broad-brimmed straw hat.

You can’t make yourself sound like one of the ~good ones~ when you roll your eyes at your family for buying expensive clothing on a whim considering you have an extensive wardrobe and you never had to work to pay for any of it. So tutting at your sisters for THE SAME FUCKING SHIT YOU DO is such dog shit.

GO TO HELL!

Also Alexia makes a bitchy comment about how her mother dresses younger than she should, which causes her mother to punish her and storm off.  But for her sisters to respond (when momma is out of sight), “Ya u right, what an awful woman for dressing how she wants. Haha way to own her!” Like, this is supposed to be fun for us?  Literally the only bad things you can claim her mother has actually done in the text so far is make some benign judgmental statements about vampires and scientists.  Which like, is better than a daughter telling her mother, to her face, that she can’t wear pretty clothes anymore because she’s old and hideous.

I cannot wait for the triumphant scene where Alexia calls her family judgmental.  I may even take MacDougall’s cock out of my mouth long enough to gasp in feigned surprise.

This author puts a lot of effort into making her male villains, villainous but almost 0 into making the female baddies detestable.  I honestly think she’s just banking on a self-misogynistic crowd reading and she’s not fucking wrong.

But after this she heads to bed.  She is awakened by a fight outside where her new vampire guards are battling that zombie thing. Eventually the REAL instead of SUPERNATURAL police show up. (Why are there separate ones? EH) and the zombie thing runs off.  But lord, they describe the police as having a gun that shoots silver bullets for werewolves, that’s all well and good, but they also have one for vampires that shoots wooden stakes, and just wow.  It’s hard for me to imagine something lamer than a Springfield that spews splinters.  Maybe a sap/blackjack but instead of lead balls it’s full of garlic cloves? SHEESH!

YOU DO REALIZE that silver is supposed to hurt vampires too right?

Anyway the zombie makes its escape. Alexia sleeps in the next morning to find that Lord Maccon has been waiting for her for an hour but refused to have her woken up.  Which like? Okay?

She goes in and Lord Maccon calls her family, “fibberty jibbitus.”

YES this manly werewolf hunk called her family fucking FIBBERTY JIBBITUS! HAHA KILL ME! But like, of course he thinks her family is shit cause we’re supposed to assume a protag’s family is bad hardy har har.

He talks about how the BUR headquarters were burgled and that they know for sure they’re targeting Alexia specifically.  I mean that literally happened last night, this isn’t new information but okay fine.  Neither he nor his pack can protect her tonight because they’re on lockdown for the full moon. Do you know what else the full moon means? Maccon be horny. They over describe it and use this wonderful line,

“his mind possessed all the clarity of pea soup full of ham-hock-sized chunks of need, “

This is the same problem E.L James has.  She tries to write like cutesy, dumb horny lines for funsies...but they’re so beyond dumb it makes it sound as if it’s somebody discovering they have gentiles for the 1st time.  You’d think readers who are self-aware enough to seek out horny material....would maybe be okay with characters who have been horny more than once?

Alexia asks him if he likes her, this time he says he does in much more round-about and awkward way with such brilliant lines of (word for word)

“it very difficult to imagine not, not disliking you on a regular and intimate basis for a very long time to come.”

They get in a bit of a spat over who should apologize for that dinner where they ignored each other like petulant brats but forget they’re fighting to MAKE OUT SOME MORE.

Alexia is sure he doesn’t want to marry her but she is way down to ride that dog dick so she asks him if he wants to be her Mistress. Apparently she doesn’t know what a male lover is called….Maybe just LOVER YOU TWIT?

Lord Maccon exclaims angrily at this and that makes her family BURST IN!

OH NO!? HOW WILL ALL THESE CHILDREN HANDLE THIS VERY BENIGN SITUATION!?

Say something Nice Faps:

PLOT happened this chapter!...Sorta?

The action scene was overall described well.

Alexia was close to saying, “Yo dawg, wanna be my bitch?”

[hangjie]

hot damn, babygirl. [ richie tozier ]

summary: reader is beverly’s best friend and when they meet the losers at the convinence store, richie swoons at the reader.

warnings: watch yo profanity, female nature, creepy mr. keene, and dirty pick up lines

word count: 1815

author’s note: i changed some things and i loveeee writing about finn’s characters and i love finn so much. idk but this imagine sucks HAHAHAHAH sorryyy huhu. requests are open!!

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

people say that being a loner, being bullied, and having only one friend is lonely and miserable, but i got used to it because it’s basically my life.

i only have one friend and she’s beverly marsh. being friends with her is great and she’s a really good friend, despite being another target for gretta to humiliate. i don’t mind it actually because i got my best friend at my side and that’s all that matters.

but there was a much more bigger problem than gretta bullying the shit out of me.

i got my period and i’m out of pads.

i groaned out loud and clutched my stomach in pain. i hear a knock on the bathroom door and beverly’s worried voice asking, “(y/n)? are you okay?”.

beverly has been staying at my home for the past days since my parents are out of town working (again) and since her dad … that’s a long story.

“i’m fine, bev. it’s just that the fucking devil bashed me with a fucking bat and i’m bleeding everywhere and i’m damn out of pads.” i hear her chuckle from the other side of the door. “well, if you’re ‘damn out of pads’, then i suggest you hurry your little ass to change into new clothes and go to the drug store.” i groan out loud once again and scream, “fine” before changing into a new pair of jeans.

as me and beverly looked from left to right on the 'women’s necessities’ isle, i debated in my mind whether i should get tampons or pads.

“tampons or pads?” i mumbled to myself mostly. “tampons this time,” beverly says. “especially since you’ve been wearing your ripped jeans lately.” i nod and grab two boxs and hand the other one to beverly because you can never have too many in stock.

we move to pay for the box, but when we move to the other isle, we see gretta with her head down, bidding her dad goodbye.

“shit!” i whisper-shout, shoving beverly into the next isle before gretta could see any of us, but the next isle isn’t any better because there stood three boys who goes to derry who i recognized to be bill denbrough, stan uris, and eddie kaspbrak. we both immediately hide the box of tampons behind our backs in embarrassment.

“y-you guys okay?” bill asks. “we’re fine,” both me and beverly say simultaneously. “what’s wrong with you?” beverly asks. i hear footsteps behind us and the door open and close, indicating that gretta left the store. i sighed in relief and directed my full attention towards the three boys.

“none of your business.”

“there’s a kid outside , look like someone killed him,” eddie says as he cradles a bunch of medical supplies on his arms.

“we need some s-s-s-supplies, but we don’t have enough money.”

i nudge beverly on her side and i smirk mischievously, an idea popping into my head.

“i like your glasses, mr. keene,” beverly says, tilting her head to the side as if she was interested in anything related to him. “you look just like clark kent.” i smile, bringing my hand to my chin. he chuckles and adjusts his glasses. “i don’t know about that.”

“can i try them?” i ask, making mr. keene reluctantly take them off and give them to me. i put them on whilst looking directly at mr. keene. “what do you think?” he leans in on his elbows and sighs. “well how about that, you look just like lois lane.” i giggle, “really?” and he hums in return. i mentally barf in my mouth, knowing that clark kent and lois lane were a couple and not an inch in my body is attracted to him.

i take off the glasses and hand it to beverly. she looks at me, confused, but i motion for her to put it on. she puts it on and mr. keene sighs in awe. “would you look at that? you look just as beautiful as (y/n).” beverly smiles and giggles. “oh really?” she hands them back to me and i turn back to the smiling man who keeps on looking back and forth between me and beverly.

“well, who do you think looks best in your glasses?” i ask. “i couldn’t possibly answer that. you’re both as beautiful-”

before he could finish what he was saying, i 'accidentally’ push back a rack of cigarettes on the counter. beverly scolds me and i roll my eyes at myself for being clumsy.

“oh gosh. i’m so sorry, mr. keene.”

“it’s okay. not to worry, girls.” he puts his glasses back on before bending down to fix the mess. while mr. keene was busy, me and beverly look back at the boys who stumbled and walked out of the store with their supplies. we both smile at them and turned our attention back to mr. keene who was still fixing the rack.

after we got what we needed, i darted to the bathroom in the drug store and quickly changed. after doing so, we walked out of the store and saw bill, who froze at the sight of beverly as we walked towards him. as we reached him, he pulled out a dollar bill (a/n: heheheheheh ;)))) and thanked us. we didn’t take the money and beverly held up her pack of cigarettes, “even steven.”

i turned to the side and see a few boys freaking out and arguing as they huddle over someone. i look closely and see that it was a friend of beverly that she met the other day. i nudge beverly and point to the bunch. “bev, you might want to see this.” she looks over my shoulder and smiles, “ben from soc?”

we approach them and while beverly’s attention was focused on wounded ben hanscom, i was fixated on the boy with glasses and who wore a hawaiian shirt, richie tozier. he stared back at me, frozen with his mouth apart.

“hot damn, babygirl.” he exhales and looks at me from top to bottom. “are you a mirror? cause i see myself inside of you.”

“yeah, it’s me, tozier. don’t cream your pants.” ** (a/n: casually hears steve harrington cheering in the background)** i smirk as he falls silent with a smug look on his face. “well, that won’t be a problem if you’re around, sweet cheeks.”

richie and i never really talked much. we know each other’s existence, were in the same class once or twice and we would see each other at school, but we haven’t said a word to each other. this was the first time we personally meet each other.

i hear beverly say something and i catch ben at the corner of my eye and i shriek, “shit, are you okay?!”

“no, i’m good. i just fell,” ben says, smiling sweetly at beverly.

“yeah, right into henry bowers.”

“shut it, r-r-richie!” bill scolds. “why? it’s the truth.”

“you sure they got 'the right stuff’ to fix you up?” beverly asks, trying to hold back a smile, but fails. ben smiles back at her in return, looking away from her gaze. “you know w-w-w-w-we’ll take care of him.” bill looks away from beverly before saying, “uhm, thanks again, beverly.” i clear my throat and cross my arms whilst raising an eyebrow at him. “y-y-you too, (y/n).”

“no problem, denbrough.” i smile smugly and place my hand on my hip. i hear richie mutter a “thanks, indeed” while he continued to stare at me.

“sure, maybe we’ll see you around.”

“yeah, we were maybe thinking about going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow, if you both wanna to come?”

me and beverly smile and nod. “good to know. thanks,” beverly says, pulling my arm and we walked away from the group. before we were out of their sight, i looked back and said, “don’t forgot to put alcohol on that shit,” making eddie face palm and place some alcohol on ben’s wound. ben hissed in pain and i chuckled and winked at richie before walking away.

“nice ass, (y/n)!” richie shouts and i raise my middle finger, not looking back at them. “i can see your fucking boner, tozier! cover that shit!” i laugh and jogged towards a laughing beverly and we walked away.

while me and beverly were making our way back home, she kept looking at me with a smirk on her face. “what?”

“you like richie.”

“no, i don’t! what makes you think that?”

“you flirted with him.”

“because that’s what i do, bev. that’s why gretta calls me a 'slut’, even though i haven’t done anything more than flirting.” i roll my eyes and did quotation marks when i said 'slut’. beverly laughs and shrugs, “whatever you say, (y/n).”

RICHIE’S POV

“nice going, bringing up bowers in front of them,” stan scolds me. “yeah, dude. you heard what beverly did and what (y/n) can do?” eddie says and this seemed to spark up ben’s interest. “what’d she do?”

“more like, who’d she do. for what i hear the list is longer than my wang,” i exclaim, pointing to my dick. “that’s not saying much.” i glare at stan and flip him off. “they’re j-j-just rumors,” bill says, defending beverly.

“anyway, bill had her back in third grade. they kissed in the school play! the reviews said that you can’t fake that kind of passion.” ben looks down in disappointment. “well, what about (y/n)? you seem to be interested in her.”

i scoff and shrug. “i’m not interested in her!” everyone looked at me with an 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me’ look. “you were staring at her the entire time.”

“i wasn’t! plus, she was directly right in front of me. so, no shit that i was looking at her.”

“you drooled, richie.”

“no, i didn’t!” i denied because there is no way that 'trashmouth’ richie tozier is going all soft for (y/n) (y/l/n), even though she’s hot as fuck.

“but anyways, she can beat anyone’s ass in a fight. last year, she beat the shit out of gretta keene behind the school because gretta was pulling some shit on beverly and it pissed her off.”

“s-s-s-sounds like your type of g-g-girl,” bill says and without thinking, i say, “damn right, she’s my type,” making everyone look at me with their eyebrows raised.

"not interested!“

MASTERLIST

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 19 - 20

The last few chapters utterly spoiled me with good content in form of the witches.But everything good, sadly, cannot last forever.

Elide Lochan kept quiet during the two days she and Lorcan trekked through the eastern edges of Oakwald, heading for the plains beyond.

*groans* Elide, I love you, but your POVs are just not fun to read, I’m sorry. Maybe because my instincts are telling me we might get a Lorcan POV too, and I’m starting to be irked by this guy.

But [Elide] still slept soundly these last two nights—thanks to the belly full of meat courtesy of Lorcan’s hunting. He’d scrounged up two rabbits, and when she’d devoured all of hers in minutes, he’d given her half of what was left of his. She hadn’t bothered being polite by refusing.

Girl, you were kept prisoner for how long? Don’t feel sorry for eating. Besides, Lorcan is an immortal warrior, yeah? So he probably doesn’t need to eat as much as you do during a day.

So they make it to a city, and Elide, being one of the few smart characters in this book, realizes Lorcan needs a disguise.

Elide surveyed herself, and set down her pack. First, she removed the leather jacket, even though it left her feeling like a layer of skin had peeled off, then she rolled up the sleeves of her white shirt. But without the tight leather, the full size of her breasts could be seen—marking her as a woman and not a slip of a girl that people assumed she was.

I say once again; full grown women are not the only ones with huge breasts. You  can be a teenager with big breasts. Hell, I’m a young adult woman and I don’t have large boobs at all! Your breasts size have very little to do with your age once you hit puberty.

[Lorcan’s] eyes traveled from [Elide’s] feet to her head, and he frowned again. “Bigger tits won’t prove or hide anything.”

See, even Lorcan understands this. Also really, Lorcan says ‘tits’? 

They roll up to town and there are soldiers checking wagons and inspecting people, searching for her. Since Elide’s limp gives herself away, Lorcan fixes it temporarily with magic.

[Lorcan] opened the door, and by the time [Elide’s] eyes adjusted to the glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers, Lorcan’s face had changed. His eyes might never be warm, but a bland smile was on his face, his shoulders relaxed—as if he were slightly inconvenienced by the wait but eager for a good meal. He almost looked human.

I know I said I despised Lorcan, but at least he’s willing to listen to Elide and make an effort to disguise himself. Maybe these chapters won’t be too painful to read.

“Brother,” Lorcan murmured so no one else could hear. “I am your brother.” “You are my husband,”  [Elide] said with equal quiet. “We have been married three months. Follow my lead.”

I see your “pretending to date/be married’ fanfic trope, SJM. I see you.

[Elide] said simply, “Men will not fear the threat of a brother. I would still be unclaimed—still be open for … invitations. I have seen how little respect men have for anything they think they are entitled to. So you are my husband,” she hissed, “until I say otherwise.”

Jesus, way to throw men under the bus. Why is it that all unnamed and minor male characters in SJM’s books are addicted to rape and sexual harassing women? Like I know it happens in this time period ( and today) but Christ, all of these men are just frothing at the mouth to claim a woman or some shit.

Elide listens to the next table, which turns out to be a traveling carnival group.

Elide lifted her eyes to Lorcan’s—he gave a nod. She took a sip of her stew, steeling herself, thinking of Asterin Blackbeak. Charming, confident, fearless. She’d always had her head at a jaunty angle, a looseness to her limbs, a hint of a smile on her lips. Elide took a breath, letting those memories sink into muscle and flesh and bone.

Awww, I love little tidbits like this, showing how much of an impact Manon and her Thirteen had on Elide. Girls supporting girls is so important and precious.

Elide manages to convince the carnival group that she and Lorcan are traveling performers, and they are allowed in. I’m starting to warm up to Elide again - she uses her intelligence, he speaking skills, and her wits to solve her problems. It’s refreshing compared to the other characters always using magic and strength.

His wife. Gods above.

Unghhh, Lorcan’s POV.

Lorcan ignored the hand the bearded man offered and jumped into the back of the wagon, reminding himself to sit close to Marion, to put an arm around her bony shoulders and look relieved and happy to have a troupe again.

But again, he’s making an effort at least. That’s more than Aelin would do; she’d just threaten to burn everyone in her path until she gets her way.

Marion rolled her eyes, patting Lorcan’s knee. He nearly cringed at every touch. Even with his lovers, outside the bed itself, he didn’t like casual, careless contact. Some found that intolerable. Some thought they could break him into a decent male who just wanted a home and a good female to work beside him. Not one of them had succeeded.

Christ Lorcan, she’s just patting your knee. Right after I gave your kudos for putting effort into your disguise and everything.

“I want to see life—see the world,” Marion said, her voice softening. “I want to see everything.” Lorcan wondered if Marion would even get to do that if he failed in his task, if the Wyrdkey he carried wound up in the wrong hands.

Like I said, gonna be a doozy when Lorcan finds out his Wyrdkey is a fake.

Does it sound like I’m stretching for things to say? Because I am. Honestly this subplot is just.... really really boring. It’s just Lorcan being grumpy and brooding and while Elide is a nice and interesting character, SJM just isn’t doing anything cool with her aside from the occasional little moment here and there.

“But Aelin Galathynius,” Nik mused. Marion’s hand went limp on Lorcan’s knee. “Who knows what she will do. She has not called for aid, has not asked soldiers to come to her. Yet she held Rifthold in her grip—killed the king, destroyed his castle. But gave the city back.” The bench beneath them groaned as Marion leaned forward. “What do you know of Aelin?”

NO NO I’M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK THIS SUBPLOT IS INTERESTING PLEASE NO AELIN GUSHING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

“Rumors, here and there,” Nik said, shrugging. “They say she’s beautiful as sin—and colder than ice. They say she’s a tyrant, a coward, a whore. They say she’s gods-blessed—or gods-damned. Who knows? Nineteen seems awfully young to have such burdens … Rumor claims her court is strong, though. A shape-shifter guards her back—and two warrior-princes flank her on either side.”

Aedion is the one who came up with the guarding her sides/back thing. How the fuck do other people know about it? Also unghhh everyone in this book just has to be royalty don’t they.

Some soldiers stop them and order them all out, presumable looking for Elide. Then they fuck off and Lorcan angsts about happy endings and how Elide’s goal is foolish.

There was no such thing as a better world—no such thing as a happy end. Because there were no endings.

Don’t be like that Lorcan, you’re a hot attractive magic dude in a shitty YA book. Of course you’re gonna get a happy ending. Next chapter!

Rowan Whitethorn just needed a place to rest. He didn’t give a shit if it was a bed or a pile of hay or even beneath a horse in a stable. As long as it was quiet and there was a roof to keep out the driving veils of rain, he didn’t care.

Dorian and Rowan have made it to Skull’s Bay.

But [Rowan] and the young king had chosen another route, during the many hours he’d made good on his promise to teach Dorian about magic. They’d worked for only minutes at a time—since it’d be no use if the king wrecked their little boat should his power slip its leash. So it had been exercises with ice: summoning a ball of frost to his palm, letting it melt. Over and over.

Aww, this is nice. I kinda wish we could’ve actually seen this, but it’s a nice mental image nonetheless.

But as if the gods themselves wanted to test him, a gust of rain-cooled wind sprayed into their faces, and some sense pricked in its wake. A shift in the air. Like a great pocket of power gathered close, beckoning. The knife at his side was instantly in his soaked hand as he searched the rooftops, revealing only plumes of rain. Rowan quieted his mind, listening to the city and storm around them.

So Rowan’s magic picks up some shady shit. What, pray tell, could be after them in Skull’s Bay?

Rowan sheathed his knife. “Then stay close and keep alert.”

Oh. Never mind, then. We transition then into Dorian’s POV.

Aelin had once confirmed that Rolfe was indeed soulless and indeed tattooed. As for the map … She’d shrugged, saying Rolfe claimed it stopped moving when magic fell. Dorian wondered if that map now indicated that he and Rowan walked through his city—if it marked them as enemies.

Seriously, Rolfe is so cool. A pirate damned without a soul with a magic map on his hands? Gimmie that novel! I wish SJM actually did something with the cool concepts she makes.

Two guards stood halfway down the block—guards not for any uniform, but for the fact that they were standing in this storm, hands on their swords. Rowan angled his head in a way that told Dorian the prince was likely contemplating whether it was worth it to chuck the men into the roiling harbor.

Rowan: How dare Darrow imply that my gf and I can’t be proper leaders? We are extremely talented in diplomacy!

Also Rowan: Hmm I’m gonna toss the guards of the guy I arranged a meeting with into the ocean lol.

Storm-Chaser. Lady Ann. Tiger-Star. The sterns of ships. Every table was made from them. They hadn’t been taken from wrecks. No, this was a trophy room—a reminder to those who met with the Pirate Lord of how, exactly, he had gained his crown.

Seriously why are SJM’s side characters so awesome and bad ass and intriguing but her main cast is so boring and lacks any development? Cut out Aelin and her court and give me a novel about Darrow, the witches, and Rolfe’s pirate army. I’d pay good money for that fic.

A door behind the bar opened, and a slim, brown-haired young woman stepped out. Her apron marked her as the barmaid, but her shoulders were back, head high—gray eyes sharp and clear as she scanned them and remained unimpressed. “He was wondering when you two would come snooping,” she said, her accent rich and thick—like Aedion’s.

Aye lmaooo you call them out girl.

Dorian nodded, something in his chest easing. “And you—your magic is … better?” That hard face yielded nothing. “I’ll manage.” Not an answer.

Lmao don’t worry Dorian, as soon as Rowan needs his magic he’ll be able to shoot frost balls out of his ass. Because what is a magic system?

Dorian didn’t know what he expected from the Lord of Pirates. But a dark-haired man, a day past thirty if that, lounging on a red velvet chaise before the rain-splattered curve of windows was not it.

Damn, SJM, you gonna leave me hanging just as soon as we get to an awesomely built up character? Apparently so.

[porkchop-ao3]

J19Z7 trying pegging?

Wooo boy. At first I didn’t know how to tackle this, I wasn’t sure if Zeta-7 was the kind of Rick to want to try this… But my pegging-loving ass simply couldn’t let this one slip. Lots of embarrassed Doofus Rick in this one, but don’t worry, he enjoys himself in the end ;3

5k+ words! Of course, there’s butt stuff and pegging. Also oral. The reader is the same character who works at a strip club on the citadel, who’s appeared in a couple of my fics with Zeta-7 in the past :)

Enjoy!

-

“Would you mind passing me my red corset? It’s in the middle drawer.” I asked Rick. I was getting ready to go to work, and he was sat at my dressing table having spent the day with me, and was making the most of every minute by sticking around to watch me get ready. I’d done my makeup, and now I was packing tonight’s ‘uniform’ ready to change into at work.

“Of course.” He said cheerily as he walked over to my dresser and pulled open the specified drawer. “Oh!” He gasped in surprise, and I immediately felt guilty.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. I didn’t think.” I shook my head and walked over to him, reaching past him to pick up the garment in mind before reaching to shut the drawer. Rick caught my wrist.

“I-i-it’s okay. I was j-just surprised.” He assured me, though his cheeks were pink as he stared down at the contents of the drawer. The knowledge had escaped me at the time, but it was where I kept my sex toys as well as some of my racier underwear; the type I mostly wore at work. I noticed his eyes were homed in on one particular toy, though, and I couldn’t pretend to not know why.

“You’re probably wondering why I have that, huh?” I asked, and Rick looked up at me, a curious frown on his face.

“Well, forgive me, I-I-I don’t have an awful lot of knowledge within this subject. Those straps, it looks as if it’s intended to be worn.” He pointed out, and I nodded my head. I picked it up to show him. It was my strap-on dildo.

“That’s right. I would wear this if I- well, I’ve had a few female partners in the past, and so… you get the idea.” I laughed, flushing.

“Oh! Yes… I-I do.” He laughed too, going even redder than I was. “You, um, you are interested in women?” He asked quietly, looking up at me.

“Yeah… sometimes.” I smiled. “I like both.”

“Wow, I never knew that about you.” He smiled at me, and I was happy to see him so accepting of the new information; though I never once doubted that he would be. He was far too sweet to hold any prejudice.

“Well, you learn something new everyday.” I said, putting the toy away and closing the drawer. “I’m sorry to expose you to all my… phalluses.” I snorted, then wandered back over to where my work bag laid on the bed. Rick laughed at my choice of words and shook his head.

“It’s okay! I think that you and I… well, I like to think we’re very close. W-we can share these things with each other, you know?” He said, sounding almost nervous. When I looked at him, he was chewing on his bottom lip and looking at the ground.

“Close? Yes. I like to think so too.” I chuckled. We’d been together for a number of months, and our sex lives had progressively gotten better and better since the first time we’d slept together and Rick had been extremely nervous. He seemed to be getting more and more comfortable with intimacy, beginning to suggest things more often, expressing curiosity in trying new things. It was an exciting process that only made me fall deeper and deeper for him. “Something on your mind?” I asked, noting his sudden sheepishness.

“Nothing! I-I-I’m just thinking about things. Not to worry, you will be leaving for work soon, I don’t want to make you late.” He smiled, looking up at me. I finished putting my things in my bag and walked back over to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hands found my waist, holding on gently as I led the kiss, tilting my head to deepen it.

“Okay. But, you can talk to me about things on your mind, remember? My shift is a short one tonight, I’ll be back sometime after eleven. If you want to, you can hang out here, stay the night with me. Don’t worry about waiting up, either.” I said to him, and he nodded his head.

“Th-that sounds nice.” He nodded eagerly, and leaned in to kiss me again. It was always nice when he was the one to initiate a kiss. “Y-you’d better get going. I will be here when you get back.”

“Love you.” I whispered as I pulled him into a short embrace. He laughed giddily at my words.

“Love you too!” He said back.

My shift at Spearmint Rick’s dragged. It was mid-week, so it wasn’t as busy as it usually was, and my favourite regulars were nowhere to be seen. It was funny, everyone in the place was a Rick, but I still had my favourites; the ones who made me laugh, that I got along with the most. It was rather dull when they weren’t around, and I found myself going through the motions almost robotically. I usually enjoyed my work, there was a fun social aspect that I missed on quiet evenings. I was glad to reach the end of my shift, hurrying to the dressing rooms as soon as the clock hit eleven to get changed back into my comfy clothes. I realised as I rushed out to my car that one of the reasons why I was so eager to get home, was because I was missing Rick. Even after spending the whole day together, being separated from him for the few hours of my shift had been an unwelcome thing. Perhaps it was because we’d spent the day cuddled up on the sofa binge watching a funny little TV show that he’d picked out, and it’d been so relaxing and comforting. I hadn’t quite been ready to give that up when I had to start getting ready for work, and I was looking forward to climbing back into my nice little bubble with him.

When I let myself into my apartment, I noticed that the TV was on and showing a late night rerun of a nature documentary. Shots of penguins sliding around on their bellies into water lit up the dark room; the lights were all off, and when I approached the sofa, I noticed that Rick was asleep. He was sat upright with his arms crossed, and his head slumped down, telling me he’d unintentionally nodded off. I made my way over to him and reached out to stroke my fingers through his hair, softly repeating his name in a bid to wake him up. He couldn’t sleep like that all night; his neck would be sore in the morning. He slowly lifted his head to look at me, appearing dazed and groggy.

“Ohh, I’m sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I wanted to be awake for you when you got back.” He said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck to work out some of the stiffness.

“I said not to worry about waiting up.” I said, smiling at his adorable, tired eyes. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” I laughed, holding my hand out to him in order to help him up. I led him into my bedroom, dropping my work bag on the floor by the door before I walked into the ensuite to get ready for bed. Eleven generally was an early night for me, and I was looking forward to curling up next to Rick. He joined me as I brushed my teeth; he stayed at my house so often that he had his own toothbrush that lived in the pot next to mine, and we stood side by side as we brushed our teeth.

“How was work?” He asked, his voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth.

“A little boring. Middle of the week; always the same.” I admitted, spitting out some excess toothpaste froth. “It’s nice to be home.” I smiled at him.

I rinsed my mouth out then turned and changed into my pyjamas, and was pleased to see that Rick no longer awkwardly averted his eyes when I undressed in front of him. By now he knew that I didn’t mind him seeing my body, and he was close enough to me that he was comfortable watching.

“That documentary on TV was very in-interesting, I wish you could’ve watched it with me. It was all about Antarctica, i-it showed you a momma polar bear and her babies. I think you’d have liked it.” He said after rinsing his mouth and turning to look at me. “Perhaps they’ll show it again s-soon.”

“That does sound like something I’d like.” I agreed, pulling my top over my head and unhooking my bra. Rick didn’t look down right away, focusing on my eyes for a moment before the urge got the better of him. “If they do show it again, I’ll gladly watch it with you.”

“Th-they- um, they also had seals and things, they were… they were very sweet.” He added distractedly, watching as I bent down to grab the oversized t-shirt that I wore to bed from where I’d left it on the floor that morning. I pulled it on and shuffled out of my pants. Rick’s cheeks were pink, and I closed the gap between us and cupped his cheeks. I was going in for a kiss when he spoke. “I would like to- uhh, I would v-very much like to make love to you, tonight. I-i-if you would like that.” He said, surprising me. Rick didn’t often ask for these kinds of things so straightforwardly.

My answer was non-verbal; I kissed him, entering my tongue into his mouth and playfully flicking the tip of his own. He moaned softly, wrapping his arms around me, his hands soon slipping under my shirt to touch my skin. I reached for his lab coat, pushing it off of his shoulders and leaving it to lay across the counter he was leaning against, then moved to his belt next, not breaking the kiss as I deftly unbuckled it and pulled open his pants. He made a sound, and I broke the kiss to look at him, to make sure he was okay. He was a little out of breath, looking down at me with need in his eyes. I continued to look at those eyes as I pushed my hand under the waistband of his underwear, my fingertips brushing over his hardening cock. I took him in my hand and stroked him, feeling him grow and stiffen at my touch.

“What would you like to do? How… how do you wanna do this, baby?” I asked him as I jerked his length, hearing soft little sighs surface as he became fully erect.

“I-I-I don’t mind. Any- any way you like.” Came his answer, and I let go of him and led him through to my bedroom. I pushed him down onto my bed and climbed on after him, pulling his sweater over his head and feeling the smooth planes of his chest.  

“I want to please you, Rick. We always do what I want. Please, you can tell me; I’ll try anything.” I said, scooting further up his body to grind against his crotch, readjusting him so his cock emerged from within his pants, and I could trap it between my pussy and his belly as I rocked back and forth.

“I-I-I couldn’t say… I like what we normally do, a lot.” He said, though his eyes wandered across the room with purpose. I followed his gaze, finding my dresser at the end of it; specifically, the middle drawer.

“Something in there? You want me to, umm, dress up in something nice for you?” I assumed, and Rick looked back up at me and shook his head, an expression on his face like he’d been caught out.

“No. I-I mean, n-not that that would be bad. I think I would like that… but that’s not what I’m thinking about.” He said, closing his eyes and rolling his head back as I increased my pace. He groaned pretty loudly, and I giggled at how vocal he could be when I worked him up just right.

“One of my toys then? You wanna see me use one of them?” I asked, getting ready to get up. He grabbed my thighs to keep me in place, opening his eyes to look at me.

“Y-you don’t have to do that. I… it’s okay, I want to do what we normally do, w-w-we can both enjoy that, right?” He said, laughing a little uncomfortably.

“There’s something on your mind. I can tell.” I said, stilling my hips and thinking back to before I’d left for work, and how it’d seemed like he was holding something back then. “If you want to ask me something, ask me. I won’t bite.”

“I won’t- I can’t say it.” He admitted after a fair amount of lip chewing.

“Why not, sweetie?”

“It’s something that's… I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s not- it’s a little s-strange.” He sighed, covering his face with his hands. I didn’t try to pull them away, I’d let him hide himself if it would bring him comfort.

“I’m all for trying something strange.” I giggled, running my fingertips over his nipples. “What if I guess; will you tell me if I get it right?” I asked.

“O-okay.” He nodded.

“Hmm, alright. It’s definitely something to do with what’s in that drawer, right?” I asked, and he nodded again. “Okay. You want me to… dress up in one of my work things and give you a dance?” I asked.

“N-no.” He shook his head. I pursed my lips in thought.

“You want to dress up in my work clothes and give me a da-”

“No!” He said more harshly, pulling his hands away from his face and staring at me with wide eyes. “I-I-I don’t think they’d fit me, anyway…” He added. I laughed, shaking my head.

“Stab in the dark. You said it was strange…” I trailed off with a shrug. “Hmm, you wanna play with my toys then, surely.” I shrugged, and he gave me an expression that indicated that I was kind of right.

“You aren’t wr-wrong.”

“Okay. Wanna borrow one, try it for yourself?” I guessed, and Rick pressed his lips together, not saying anything. “You do. Which one? Oh, wait. I think I’ve got it.” I said, my eyes widening slightly. Rick groaned a little in embarrassment, covering his face again.

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore. N-nevermind.” He said, is voice thick with shame. I bent down and kissed the backs of his hands until he parted them, and then I kissed his lips.

“Do you want me to use my strap-on, is that it?” I asked, and Rick didn’t respond at all. “It’s okay. You can be honest. If that’s what you would like, I’m more than happy to oblige. It sounds like a lot of fun.” I smiled widely.

“Y-y-you’d actually enjoy that?” He asked me, and I nodded.

“Yeah. Trying new things in the bedroom is almost always fun.” I told him, rocking my hips a little again. “And I love making you feel good. I’m down to discover new ways of doing that, baby.”

“I-I-I’m just very curious, that’s all… I’ve never seen one and I- I’m just curious.” He shook his head at himself, looking down through the gap between our bodies.

“Of course. You’re a man of science, curiosity is in your nature. I’m sure it’d be very interesting for you to, ahh, experiment a little bit. Yes?” I asked, and Rick nodded eagerly.

“Oh, yes. Y-you know me very well.”

“Alright. In the name of science, then…” I grinned cheekily at him before getting up and running over to the drawer. I pulled out the object in question as well as my bottle of lube and made my way back over to him; the toy attached to the harness was fairly small, I felt confident that it would be suitable for a beginner so Rick would be able to handle it.

He looked between me and the toy nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. I tossed it onto the bed before climbing back on top of him, leaning down to cup his face. I kissed him once, twice, before stroking my thumbs over his cheeks.

“You okay?” I asked, and he nodded his head; though he was hesitant to do so. “We can stop any time. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I-I-I’m not uncomfortable! I’m just… I’m nervous. Don’t worry about me.” He shook his head, and I offered him a smile.

“It’s okay. No need to be nervous, we’re gonna go nice and slow.” I whispered, then crawled down his body, climbing off of him so I could pull his pants down and off, so he was completely naked before me. I was quick to pull my t-shirt off, exposing my breasts so he wouldn’t feel so alone in his vulnerability. I reached for his cock again, jerking him back to hardness since lack of stimulation and nervousness had him flagging. It didn’t take long, and I was soon taking him into my mouth, eliciting a shaky sigh from him.

“Ughhh, yeah, th-that always feels so incredible.” He breathed, sitting up on his elbow and reaching down to stroke my hair. I slowly glided my lips up and down his length, rolling my tongue around the head when I pulled back, humming around him when I pushed down. I worked on him with my mouth for a while before pulling off and replacing my mouth with my hand. I looked up at him, licking my lips.

“I’m gonna use my fingers on you, okay? Can you keep relaxed for me?” I said softly, and his eyes widened. He looked mortified by what I was saying, and began to protest.

“N-no, it’s okay. I can do that to myself s-so that I'm… ready. You don’t have to put your fingers there.” He assured me, and I stroked my hand up and down his inner thigh, coaxing his legs open wider.

“Are you suggesting that for your sake, or mine?” I asked, and when he didn’t respond, I sighed softly, pressing kisses to his hip bone. “I’m not forcing myself to do this, Rick. You aren’t putting me out. I’m into this, don’t you see that?”

“It’s not… it can’t be pleasant for you, touching me there. Can it? It's… well, you know what it’s for. Doesn’t that m-make you feel uncomfortable?” He asked, looking away from me in embarrassment.

“Relax. This doesn’t have to be a big deal, if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have agreed. Trust me, Rick. Open your legs for me baby, if you wanna do this I gotta make sure you’re ready.” I said, and he did what I said with a little whine. “Would you enjoy fingering my asshole, if it made me feel good?” I asked him, and he covered his face with his hands again, leaning his head back into the mattress.

“Oh, um… yes.” He admitted bashfully.

“See? I wanna make you feel good. That’s all I want.” I told him, then reached for the lube and squirted some out onto my fingers. I rubbed the lube between my fingers to warm it up a little, before gently pressing my index and middle finger to his back passage, feeling him flinch. I stroked the two digits over the pucker, circling it and coating it in the lube. Rick’s breath was shaky, and he pulled his hands away from his face so he could look down at me.

“Th-that’s nice.” He whispered, biting on his bottom lip.

“Yeah? You ever do this to yourself, Rick?” I asked him, then gently pressed my middle finger to his entrance, breaching slowly. Rick’s breath caught, and he rolled his head back against the bed again.

“S-sometimes.” He admitted, to my surprise. I pushed in to the second knuckle, and gently massaged his inner walls, hearing him whimper as I did.

“Mm, that’s a mental image to commit to memory.” I giggled, and Rick moaned softly. I took his cock in my free hand, giving him slow, loose strokes, just to keep him going.

“You can, uhh, y-y-you can add another.” He said quietly, and I bit my lip hard, a rush of arousal flooding my loins at the way he was warming up to me. I gave him what he needed, pushing my index finger in to join the other. Rick moaned, getting louder when I started pumping my fingers in and out, feeling him loosen up as he relaxed into the sensations. “D-deeper.” He breathed, wriggling on my bed. I complied, sinking in as deep as I could, rocking my fingertips against a spot that had Rick groaning louder than he had been all evening.

“Is that nice, Rick?” I asked him, shuffling on the bed to get closer to him, focusing my finger on the spot that got such a strong reaction.

“Y-yes!” He gasped, rocking his hips a little. “Oh, gosh. That feels so good! I need- I want-” he was panting, groaning between words.

“What do you want, baby?” I asked him, rubbing my thumb over the head of his cock, a guttural grunt came from him, and I pulled my thumb away to watch a string of precum stretch between us. I felt myself becoming increasingly damp, it wouldn’t belong before there was a wet spot on my underwear.

“Another; I-I-I’m ready.” He told me, and I smiled as I pulled my fingers out almost all the way, pushing back in with three this time. “F-fuh- oh gosh.” He whined, rolling his hips up into my hand, effectively fucking my fist as I thrust my fingers in and out of him.

“God, you look hot like this.” I breathed, the words coming out without my permission. Rick opened his eyes to look at me at this, licking his lips and lowering his eyelids; I didn’t doubt that it was unintentional, but the expression only made him look sexier.

“I feel… oh God. I feel so good.” He whispered, his eyes glazing over a little with pleasure. I studied his face, making sure to lock that image away in my mind for later. His cock oozed precum onto my knuckles at an impressive rate, and I couldn’t resist bending down to lick it away, tasting him with a groan. “P-please, we can- I need you to…” he trailed off, reaching his hand out and patting the bed next to him until he found the strap-on. He picked it up, looking it over once and inspecting its size before thrusting it at me.

I gently removed my fingers and let go of him, taking the toy from him. I watched him with an excited smile as I put it on, fastening the straps snugly around my hips. I still had my panties on, and with a flash of inspiration I quickly darted over to the dresser again, pulling a small bullet vibrator out before making my way back to him. I crawled onto the bed between his legs, pushing them wide for me as I nudged closer to him. Rick watched me with interest as I turned on the vibrator and pressed it between my legs, rubbing it up and down over my slit through my panties, moaning at the sensations. Not wanting to keep Rick waiting, I slipped the vibrator into my underwear, nestling it between my folds and pulling my panties up tight to hold it in place. I shuddered at the constant stimulation at my clit, clenching and twitching as it slid around in my wetness with my every move.

“Ready baby?” I asked, and Rick nodded his head with certainty. I picked up the lube, smothering a generous amount onto my strap-on, stroking it from base to tip as Rick watched with pink cheeks and parted lips. The remaining lube, I swiped over his cock, jacking him nice and slow as I lined up with his ass. I stroked the tip of the toy against his entrance for a while, feeling the resistance melt away by the time I pushed forwards. The toy was very slim, not much more of a stretch than three fingers, but I still went slowly, pausing every inch or so giving Rick time to adjust. When I was buried so far, the base of the strap on pressed against the tip of my vibrator and I whined at the added pressure.

“So good. Oh God, b-beautiful. F-” he hesitated, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing hold of the sheets below him for dear life. “Fuck me, p-please.” He whispered, his words contributing to the ever growing wet spot on my panties. I thrusting out and back into him immediately, starting off slow, and quickly noticing the way Rick was trying to rock back against me much faster than I was going.

“You want me to go faster, baby?” I asked, voice shaky and breathless; not yet with exertion, just pure arousal.

“Yes! Please, I-I-I need it… it feels better when it’s faster.” He told me, and I grinned. I wondered just how much he’d experimented on his own… and I couldn’t help but also wonder if he’d experimented with someone else. Perhaps this wasn’t the first time he’d experienced this kind of intercourse. The thought spurred me on, and suddenly I was more eager than ever to please him. I tightened my grip on his cock, pumping him in time with my thrusts, he was bouncing back and forth on the bed, mouth hanging open. Moans rolled from him in waves, increasing in intensity when I angled my hips just so.

“Ughh, this is so fucking fun.” I said, laughing with something close to joy radiating from every huff. An amused grin formed on Rick’s face.

“Y-you’re telling m-me.” He stammered, his back arching as he tilted his hips, grunting loudly as he chased an angle that obviously worked for him.

“Mmh, my pussy’s so wet because of you, Rick. I’m gonna cum in my panties from fucking you. How’d you like that?” I asked, clenching my teeth as my vibrator bumped against my clit with each thrust. It felt incredible.

“Ohh, p-please. I like to w-watch your face when you climax.” He admitted, looking down at where we were joined at the pelvis, his eyes slowly tracing up my body; over my breasts before finally settling on my face again. “I feel like- like I won’t be able to control m-myself much longer.”

“Don’t even try, baby. I wanna push you over the edge. Watch you cum all over yourself.” I growled, feeling less and less in control of my words as I tiptoed closer to my climax. Rick whined and squeezed his eyes shut, flushing at my vulgar language. I stroked my free hand up to his chest, rolling his nipples under my fingers one by one. I wanted to surround him with stimulation, completely overwhelm him so he couldn’t help but let go, I wanted him to feel better than he ever had before. I buried myself deep inside Rick, rubbing my hips in an upward motion so the strap-on pressed firmly against his prostate; grinding and supplying unrelenting stimulation. Rick gasped, throwing his head back, and in seconds he was shooting his load over his stomach and my hand. I groaned lewdly as I watched him spurt, his cum shooting high with an impressive arch while his body shook beneath me.

“Ohh fuck! Fuck yeah, ughh.” He groaned, pushing his hips down on me, pressing the vibrator firmly against my clit. I continued to grind against him as my pleasure crested, tumbling over a precipice and having me panting and drenching my underwear.

The two of us took a while to recover from our climaxes, but soon enough I was whimpering and fumbling to pull the vibrator out of my underwear, eager to get it away from my painfully engorged clit. The slick thing slipped out of my grip, but I managed to hold it long enough to turn it off before I let it drop onto the mattress. I pulled out of Rick carefully, not bothering to detangle myself from the strap-on before I threw myself down on the bed next to Rick. He had his eyes closed, panting heavily beside me. I waited patiently for some sort of reaction from him, perhaps reassurance that he was okay. After a few long moments, I realised he wasn’t speaking any time soon.

“Are you… are you okay?” I asked, still embarrassingly out of breath.

“Y-yes.” He replied, slowly sitting upright. I watched him as he glanced down at himself; at the white streaks he’d painted across his chest. “That, um, that was… I’ve never experienced anything like that before.” He told me, looking at me over his shoulder.

“Did you like it?” I asked, unable to keep the concern from etching itself into my features. Rick smiled, breathing a quiet laugh.

“V-very much.” He nodded. I smiled in relief, sitting up and crawling up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders; apologising when I accidentally poked him in the back with my strap-on. We shared a laugh and I removed it before going back to him.

“So did I. I’ve never done anything like that with a man. It was different, exciting.” I whispered, pressing a number of kisses into his shoulder. “Thank you for being honest with me about wanting to try something new. I know it’s not always easy.”

“Th-thank you for being so nice.” He laughed sheepishly. I looked over his shoulder down at his front, humming out a pleased little sound when I looked at his chest. I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but I found myself reaching down, dragging my hand over his ejaculate, a little moan escaping me. Rick turned his head to look at me; well, as much as he could with our proximity. “I-I know that it’s late, and you probably want to go to sleep… but I need to c-clean myself up. I, um, I don’t suppose you’d l-like to take a bath with me?”

“I’d love to.” I grinned at him, kissing his cheek before releasing him and getting up; heading off to run us a nice hot bath. I couldn’t think of a better reason to stay up late.

[visceralcoma]

COCK AGE: THE MEASURING

Some friends of mine were asking how big certain characters were as I’ve seen my fair share of dicks. Big, small, long, thin, bendy, straight, floppy, stumpy, girthy, micro and oversized, and all soft and hard.  I’ve seen a lot of dicks.

So I give you my personal headcanons of the range of length for each character. I based it on their country of origin in comparison to the real world counterparts’ average dick size. I also took into consideration certain habits and behaviors that stereotypically indicate either a smaller or a bigger package.  

Disclaimers:  These are what I extrapolated based on my OWN experiences. Not canon. These guesses are purely my own fanon. 

COCK AGE: ORIGIN OF THE WEEN

Unfortunately I cannot even remotely guess any of the measurements for Alistair, Sten, or Oghren as they used default models DAO with no special outfits per character.  I even investigated King Alistair in Inquisition, but unfortunately, crotch flap prevented me from looking too closely.

ZEVRAN: 6 to 7 inches / 13-17 cm

Reasoning: This is based on my experience with men who were above average, knew it, and were kind enough to offer massages to help relax certain muscles. But that is personal preference.  And given Zevran grew up in a brothel...

Plus: average Penis length for Spanish men is 5.5 inches/13.97 cm.  And for Italian men it’s  6.2 inches/15.748 cm.  

Lay Review: 9.5/10 would recommend. Really great at sex, he was raised in a brothel of course he will be! But also really great at foreplay.  Just be careful as he was hired to kill you. (Unless you’re kinky and like that, then 10/10!)

COCK AGE: TWICE AS THICK

ANDERS: 5.5 - ? inches / 13.97 - ? cm

Reasoning: He wears a freaking Mage robe half the time. He’s known for his electricity fingers from the Pearl in Denerim, which means he knows his way in the bedroom better than most of us.  You can basically say he has any size you want and it works.

Lay Review: 9/10 Would recommend - Sorry you can incorporate SEX MAGIC into foreplay? Uhh yes please!  But be careful of his nosey asshole roommate who likes to pop in unannounced.

CARVER: No.  Okay by popular demand here is Carver’s dick size. -sighs-

5.5 to 9 inches / 13.97-22.86 cm

Reasoning: The average penis length for people in the UK is 5.5 inches. And I personally headcanon, that much like being bigger than Hawke, I think Carver is bigger in other areas as well. It’s why he gets to be so cocky and such a shit to Hawke because he knows he has at least something over his brother. 

Lay Review:  10/10 Listen, the man had a favorite whore in the Blooming Rose that even Isabela knew it and could catch him.  And he flirts easily with Isabela. He’s cocky but he’s not insufferable about it. 

SEBASTIAN:  6 - 6.5 inches / 15.24 - 16.51 cm

Reasoning: The average penis length for people in the UK is 5.5 inches, but the UK did their own review and said with “stretching” it was closer to 6 and up. I say that’s cheating, but whatever, we’ll give it to them. They do say that the Scotsmen are bigger than average - with stretching. 

Given Sebastian spent his youth chasing after the skirts of all the noble ladies, and many of them gossiped that he might take interest in them, I’m willing to bet he has above average length but also knows how to bloody well use it.

Lay Review:  5/10 would recommend, because you’re going to catch SOMETHING from this manwhore but you’ll have a damn good time of it. If you can pull him away to break his vows of celibacy that is.

FENRIS: 5 - 6 inches 

Reasoning: He’s from Tevinter, and which has some inspirations from Central and Western Asian influences with Roman cultures.  But he is also an elf and was a slave that was likely well fed as he was the “favorite.”  His armor is fairly form fitting so he’s not overly big as to be noticeable. Heck, he probably has a crotch armor for protection, but nothing too constricting as he needs to move.  

Lay Review: 1/10 - Would not recommend because you’re sleeping with someone who is starting to remember and has not yet recovered from being a sexual abuse victim to the point even touch triggers painful memories. (0/10 if you’re a male mage, because that would likely be triggering for Fenris as a Male Mage was his abuser)

COCK AGE: INQUISIT ME

VARRIC: 4 - 4.5 inches / 10.16 - 11.43 cm

Reasoning: Look he’s a dwarf. They are smaller, but they are also denser and thicker. So Varric’s got a big girthy thick cock even if it is under average

Lay Review: 7/10 would recommend, you’re gonna feel some pain having to stretch for him, but what he can’t reach for in length, he can make up for with his wicked tongue.  Don’t under estimate a good “bed” time story. He may also accidentally call out Bianca’s name. 

SOLAS: 4.5 - 5.5 inches / 11.43 - 13.97 cm

Reasoning: Hobo Apostate Solas, his crotch area is baggy, much like Cullen’s.  Almost lumpy in some areas but usually smooth.  No excessive bulge anywhere or any sort of presenting.  However in Trespasser, his bulge is front and center, like it’s on display.  A nice packaged bulb right there. And I know what you’re think, BIG DICK-  saaadly no.  The men who have the neat bulge like that have basically fluffed themselves up to appear like they are packing some sweet long heat. Also, the Greek standard of beauty for cocks was with smaller lengths. And given Solas’s vanity, seriously look at him in Trespasser, I think he PRIDES himself on being quite gorgeous. 

Lay Review:  10/10 actually, even though I can’t stand him.  But all the fun in the fade, no actual touching in the physical world. He’s the safest one to have sex with, No STDs.  CAN’T GET PREGNANT IN THE FADE.  For women, we basically get to experience the female equivalent of the male wet dream. In the Fade, his dick can be any size - heck it could be vibrating (or a wolf dick that knots for all you furries).  He’s really wise so he knows ALL the tricks. Seriously, he’s probably the reverse of the Demolition Man. 

BLACKWALL: 4 - 7 inches / 10.16-17.78 cm 

Reasoning:  Average Penis size for UK men is 5.5 inches/13.97 cm 

Blackwall boosts that his sword is not compensation, but a counterweight.  Guys that usually brag, don’t have the equipment they boast.  (Sorry Bae!)  But if he DOES have a big dick, then that is his one trick pony.  He has the equipment but is shite at using it and probably jams it in with no foreplay.  Which given his romance scene....

In that case, Blackwall really needs to listen to Sera’s advice.Just the fact Sera even felt PROMPTED to give him advice, says something.  All the other sex talks he’s fine but it’s THIS one he felt uncomfortable: 

Sera: I'll show you. I just need a peach. A ripe one, because if you do it right? Ripe! Down there. 

Blackwall: Please, no peaches, ripe or otherwise. 

Sera: Well I can't teach you bananas! That would be like showing you swords! Oh! Remember, do not use it like a sword. 

Blackwall: How do I make this stop?

Lay Review:  6/10 Would recommend only if you don’t mind digging hay out of your asscrack. Or taking the time to teach him how to fuck.

DORIAN:  5 to 8 inches / 16.51-20.32 cm

Reasoning: Average Penis size for Pakistani men is 6 inches. 

The scene where Dorian approaches you in the chambers, if you look, he has a noticeable gap between his thighs, almost like he’s intentionally making sure nothing erm... rubs. And Dorian is no skinny mage, he’s well muscled and thick enough for his thighs to press together. Therefore, he’s tucked.  However a man can tuck and still walk fairly comfortably.  It’s only when they are a little bigger do they have to make adjustments. 

Lay Review:  7.5/10 would recommend (if I was masculine presenting).  Dorian likes to be served (Inquisit me) by you, but damn if his orgasms aren’t fantastic. Make sure to have a water spell on hand, or... take down the curtains before hand ;) you exhibitionist you. 

THE IRON BULL: 8.5 to 10 inches / 21.59 - 25.4 cm

Reasoning: Bull sounds overly cocky but NOT in his dick size, rather in foreplay. In my experience in alternative lifestyles, these men are amazing. They knew how to use what they had - and usually it wasn’t much. Barely average or even under. Now, you’ll note the size is still above average. Some of you might even be going ow!  But that range I gave is average, maybe even UNDER average, for qunari.  Add to the fact the size of Bull’s “black box” was appropriately sized for a big dick for HUMANS. Yeah... The Iron Bull is definitely average for Qunari. But he knows how to work it. 

Lay Review: 8/10 Would recommend. I mean... who turns down to ride the bull?  You WILL be sore, because... OW.  But eh, for the experience right? Plus all us alternate lifestyle folks would get along REAL well with him.

CULLEN: 6.5 to 7 inches / 16.51-17.78 cm

Reasoning: Average Penis size for men from the Netherlands is 6.248 inches.

Cullen’s crotch appears quite um... lumpy, if you can view him without the flap.  It’s not tight, but definitely snug and to the side a bit. He could be wearing some protective covering under that or nothing at all.  But it’s clearly that he’s got some huge schlong there.

Lay Review: 9/10 would recommend. He’s packing, is shy in public, but once behind doors... the man can pin you to his OWN desk and rail you and then carry you UP A LADDER?  Shit... sign me the fuck up. I mean you’re gonna be sore and worn out having used muscles you hadn’t thought you even had, but fuck what a lay right? Lets just hope he offers to massage your lower back.  Desks do not make for comfy surfaces to rut on top of.  Especially wobbly ones (thanks Sera).