#or annie both of those work

[carcarrot]

its important to go see a low stakes concert sometimes

[ma1dita]

love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k 

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air. 

You let him leave. 

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal. 

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight. 

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real. 

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities. 

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love. 

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?” 

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up. 

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this. 

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” Percy mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.” 

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way. 

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!” 

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to. 

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.” 

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair. 

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.” 

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet.

The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away. 

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke. 

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.” 

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity.  I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm. 

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly. 

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him. 

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you. 

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat. 

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.” 

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Having The Same Abilities As Wolverine

Requested: Heyy! Can I request a the boys preference where reader is a supe who pretty much has wolverine's powers? Ty!! - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: Hii can I request the boys pref x female wolverine? <33 - anon

A/N: Reminder my loves! Everything is written as gender neutral, I don't write specifically freader or mreader. I hope you like it! I am working 100% from Wolverines Wikipedia page lol since I forget most of his powers. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher finds your abilities both disgusting and impressive. Your super sight, smell, etc. are really helpful in certain situations. He jokingly calls you their own personal Tek Knight, which you shut down immediately. What's disgusting is when your claws come out, breaking through the skin of your knuckles. There's a lot of blood. There's a lot of pain even with your healing. And something about them just freaks him out. You jokingly try to poke him with them, touch him with them, and though he'd never admit it, he absolutely hates the feeling. There's just something wrong about them that he can't pinpoint or describe. They're helpful for sure and watching you use them is always gory, he'd just like for them to go away as quickly as possible.

Hughie finds you fascinating. The healing and the claws are always cool, but it's the fact that you're so much older than all of them, so much more experienced, and yet you age so little. Because you're body heals so well, you age at a slower rate than the rest of the world. While that's not totally new for Supes, he's always interested in hearing about your life. You have so much knowledge, so many more experiences, so many lives lived before this mess took over. You find it the least interesting part of your abilities, but Hughie's always had an appreciation for the underappreciated. He loves to listen to you talk about the past, what the world was like, what Vought and The Seven were like. It wasn't always this fucked, at least that's the conclusion he comes to as you talk. It was fucked, it was a mess, but the introduction of Homelander really set in stone this future.

Annie is your confidant. The healing factor has saved your and others lives countless times, but everyone forgets you can still feel pain. Long after your body has put itself back together, the phantom pain lingers. It's excruciating and, secretly, you live in fear of being torn apart. Days and weeks later, you move as if you're still broken. You'll wake up, confused for a moment, expecting to be torn limb from limb, before you come to your senses. Even your claws leave your hands raw, arthritic. You know Annie thinks about that more than anyone else. You told her one night about the pain and since then she's always been aware, quietly asking you if you're alright. Sometimes the pain goes away in a few hours, other times it takes weeks. It all depends on the severity. You try not to complain, knowing you must sound like a broken record, but she doesn't see it that way.

M.M., kind of like Butcher, is weirded out by your claws. He doesn't mind the healing or the heightened senses. For the most part, those things are hidden. It's the claws he gets the heebie jeebies from. You poke fun at him because of this. Out of all the Supe abilities you could have gotten, claws aren't the oddest thing you could have developed. He is reminded of Webweavers abilities and that puts things into perspective for a little while. He didn't trust you in the beginning. It was hard to show him you weren't just another Supe hopped up on V. You're a lot older than everyone, you've experienced more, you're wiser than he gives you credit for. He learns to trust you because of your level head. In situations where other people would be losing their shit, you're calm, cool, and collected. It isn't your abilities that make him befriend you, it's the person underneath them.

Frenchie both loves and hates your abilities. He finds your claws fascinating. Every time you use them he's left in awe. He loves watching you use them, the way you can hide them and bring them out when they're least expecting it. He doesn't find them weird or odd like his friends. They're amazing. He hates, though, that your heightened senses are basically a lie detector test he fails every time. You know when he's been drinking, smoking, getting high. You try not to make a big deal about it, but you do talk to him about it in private. You know when he's lying, though any non-Supe could figure it out when they learn all his tells. He's not as good as he thinks he is at lying. He's always amazed with your stamina, too. It's something a lot of people tend to overlook about your powers, but he doesn't.

Kimiko and you bond effortlessly. Your abilities are so similar and yet so different. Together you're a fantastic duo, unstoppable. She likes touching your claws, though hates the way they have to come out. She knows what it's like, to have to sacrifice yourself, your body, for the greater good. She knows what it's like to wake up confused and, for a moment, feeling as if you're missing parts of yourself. The two of you work together effortlessly and find a lot of humor in your abilities whereas everyone else sees a severed limb of broken bones, you can see just how silly the body is, how fragile and easily it both breaks and repairs itself. She loves your heightened senses and always tells her what you can find out: M.M. got a new chapstick (strawberry), Butcher ate something with peppers, Annie got Hughie a new cologne, etc.

[lila-lou]

✨Nothing he couldn't handle Pt. 1/3✨

Summary: You finally tell Ben why you won't let him in your panties.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, touching and teasing, anxious Reader

Word Count: 2206

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

“Damn it!”, you muttered as you searched the fridge for something to eat. You should have been asleep by now, but you were still full of adrenaline after the last mission you completed just 4 hours ago. Everyone else had been in their rooms for about two hours while you tiptoed around the kitchen in your pajama shirt, desperately looking for a little snack.

You've been a member of the Butchers team for 6 months now. Well, more or less a member. You didn't fight, that wasn't your thing at all, but you had a lot of skill when it came to profiling Supes and figuring out what made them tick, when they lied and what they planned to do next. You worked for Vought, for a 4 year training, until the Tower crashed. In just 2 years, you had learned more about Supes and their profiling than other people did in ten years. You were by far the best in the field, but most importantly, you couldn't be bought and had a strong dislike for Homelander, which was why Butcher showed up on your doorstep six months ago and had Hughie begging you to join the team. The Supes and everything that came with them stopped scaring you a long time ago. You were already too jaded. Well, except for one small aspect.

After agreeing, you stayed in your apartment for a few more weeks, but you quickly realized that wasn't an option at all when you narrowly avoided being split lengthways by Homelander.

Since then you have lived with the other boys, Annie and Kimiko. After the incident between Homelander and Soldier Boy, Annie also made the decision to move in with Hughie to stay with the boys and protect him.

"If you bend over a bit more, I swear to you, I'll rip those damn thin panties off your little ass", Soldier Boy muttered as he leaned against the kitchen island with his arms crossed. "Shit! Stop scaring me!", you squealed a little too loudly, standing back up and clutching your yogurt tightly in both hands. "And by the way… eww! Everything that comes out of your mouth is fucking disgusting”.

Soldier Boy just rolled his eyes and leaned back a little more. Your gaze wandered over his bare torso as you unconsciously bit your bottom lip.

Soldier Boy had been after you since you moved into the apartment you shared. You were the new nice toy he couldn't have. And that very fact made him want you even more.

Of course you couldn't deny damn fine Soldier Boy was, to be honest you actually developed feelings for him over the last few weeks but after the countless accidents and even deaths that occurred when Supes and humans had sex you were just too afraid to let him get to you. As long as Ben was a few healthy inches away from you, your mouth was huge and your attitude even bigger, but as soon as he came closer and touched you, you flinched. Maybe Vought simply shouldn't have assigned a young girl in training to the department that dealt with the most egregious deaths, caused by supes. You hadn't even lasted five months there when you begged Stan Edgar himself to let you join the profiler team.

"You're horny, aren't you?", he grinned knowingly. “Your heart is beating almost as fast as it did, when I kissed you for the first time”. Just the thought of it made your knees weak. You let Ben get close to you twice, but both times you stopped when his hands slid over your hips to your ass.

“No, I’m not”, you grumble and start eating your yogurt, your back leaning against the kitchen counter, facing him.

“C´mon, Sweetheart. I promise you’ll fucking love it”, Ben pushed himself off the kitchen counter and took two steps towards you. You immediately tensed up and pushed yourself back even more.

“Ben…”, you whispered as he stood right in front of you. When his big hand cupped your cheek, you thought your heart would explode. “What do you have to lose?”, he murmured, tilting his head down until his lips touched your neck. As your heartbeat picked up again, he stayed in his position, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

“My life”, you breathed.

Ben immediately pulled his head back and looked at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you think I’ll get you pregnant? You´re fucking stupid? Yeah, I kinda like you, but a child would be too much, don't you think?". Ben had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.

Since you were no longer surrounded by him, you had found your voice again. It was like your brain finally had oxygen again.

"What? No! I did not mean that! Of course having a child would ruin my life, at least for now, but that’s not what I meant!”.

Now Ben just looked more confused. His eyes were on you as he tried to understand you. He couldn't understand why you put him off for weeks. He was nice to you, talked to you and even started watching that stupid show about demons and other supernatural crap. And yet you didn't let him get close to you. He was allowed to kiss you twice, that was it. You were a damn tease and he was starting to lose his nerve.

“Then tell me what you fucking mean, Tom Hardy”.

Slightly overwhelmed, you groaned and let your head fall back before you answered. You knew Ben wouldn't let go, if you didn't finally tell him why you were so reserved.

“I’m scared, okay?”, you confessed, still not able to look at him. However, you could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Wait, what? I know you’re not a fucking virgin anymore, so why should you be afraid?”.

It took a few minutes and admonitions from ben, before you finally told him why.

When you finally made it, you looked intently and expectantly at the Supe in front of you. His face slowly relaxed, but his gaze still remained unreadable to you. However, when a slight grin crept onto his lips, you shook your head in annoyance, grumbled "I definitely don't have to let you laugh at me" and started to walk out of the kitchen, but Ben grabbed your wrist. "Fucking Relax, dollface. I’m not laughing at you", he chuckled, but immediately let go of you as your heart beat faster again. With his lips pursed to hide his grin, he raised both hands apologetically.

Slightly offended, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him without saying a word. Ben took a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you really think I would hurt you?”, he asked, still smiling slightly.

“You’re not exactly known for your self-control, Soldier Boy”, you replied sharply, narrowing your eyes.

“Oh Sweetheart, believe me. It takes more than a nice tight pussy to make the first fucking super explode". That started the next discussion. It was back and forth, like the last few weeks.

“Okay, how about you sleep in my bed tonight. Just sleep. And if you're still alive tomorrow, you'll have your proof", Ben suggested at one point.

The thought of sleeping with Ben in his bed was both exciting and frightening, but you knew there weren't many options left before he would eventually give up on you. You tapped your folded forearm thoughtfully.

"Only sleeping?", you asked cautiously after a while.

"Ugh… promise?", he replied annoyed.

A few more moments passed before you forced yourself to say it and finally nodded.

"Okay. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea”, you murmured.

Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head, but couldn't help and let a small, genuine smile appear on his lips. When he started walking but you still stopped, he whistled to you, which finally broke you out of your trance. With a few quick steps you caught up with him and walked nervously next to him. When you got to his bedroom door, Ben roughly pushed the door open as usual and waved his arm for you to move on. In fact, it was the first time you were in his room. Your eyes scanned everything as Ben watched you expectantly. You were pretty sure you wouldn't sleep a wink.

As expected, his room smelled of alcohol, weed and a hint of his perfume. Ben walked past you and gently ran his palm over your back, but only for a split second. He sank onto his bed, pulled his legs up and leaned his back against the headboard of the bed. His hand reached for the joint he had started on the nightstand.

"You should take a hit, it would help you relax", Ben lit his joint before taking a deep drag.

“Yeah, I’d rather not", you snorted, continuing to look around the room. Your gaze stopped at the top shelf next to the bed. As you stretched, your shirt riding up and Ben getting a perfect view of your perfect ass, he felt his cock twiching in his sweatpants. Maybe he shouldn't have been abstinent for three weeks when he really had no other choice. He couldn't get you out of his head for days. He had tried having fun with other women several times, but even with his cock deep in a slut's throat and the idea of ​​the bitch being you, it just wasn't working.

“Ewww Ben, are youfor real?”, you pulled out an erotic magazine from 1971. “Gosh, there’s more hair than skin”, you grimaced as you flipped through the pages.

“Well, different times, doll". His gaze traveled from your face, down your body and back to your eyes. “I bet your pussy is perfectly shaved and fucking smooth", he licked his lips, keeping eye contact with you. Your cheeks immediately turned bright red because Ben hit the mark.

“C'mere”, Ben said in his deep voice, putting an arm around your waist and expertly pulling you onto the bed. Landing on your butt, you let out a short squeak of surprise. Ben focused on your heartbeat and breathing as he continued to hold you. Your back was pressed against his bare chest as he still leaned against the headboard.

"How does that feel?", he whispered against your ear, one arm wrapped around you as his free hand slowly stroked down your side to your thigh.

“I… I don’t know”, you whispered shakingly after a few seconds.

Ben scoffed before pressing a light kiss to your pulse point. “Relax, doll. Focus on my touch, not your fucking thoughts”, he breathed against your neck, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm your nerves. “Ben…please…You promised”, you tried to push Ben’s arm away from your waist.

“Fiiiiinee”, he groaned annoyed, releasing you from his grasp.

Ben slid further down so he was lying and reached for his phone. He went through the news as if nothing had happened while you still sat rooted to the spot.

“You want to sleep sitting fucking up?”, he murmured, not watching from his phone.

Grumbling, you lay on your side, your back to Ben, and pulled the blanket up to your neck. “Goodnight”, you said quietly, closing your eyes. Ben glanced over at you for a moment before putting his phone away and raising an arm to wrap it around you, but then quickly let go. Ben watched you for a few minutes before lifting the blanket and laying under it too.

When you still hadn't fallen asleep after about 30 minutes of Ben just listening to your heartbeat, you opened your eyes again. “Ben?”, you breathed, barely audible.

"Hmm?".

“Can I try something?”.

“Whatever you fucking want”, he grumbled tiredly.

You took a deep breath before turning to him and looking at his face. Your hand slowly moved to his upper arm and lingered there for a moment before pressing yourself closer to him.

"Can you hold me?", you whispered.

Ben was definitely not the soft type and by now he would have kicked any other woman out of his bed, but like he had been doing for the last 6 months, he made an exception for you.

"Women. Just can't fucking decide", he grumbled, his eyes still closed. His hand reached under your ass and pulled you as tight as he could with a firm tug, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your face was on his chest, next to your hand, while your right leg lay directly over his lap.

"That's okay?".

“I think so”, you answered him as his hand went under your shirt to your lower back and he held you tight. “Feels kinda nice”, you admitted sheepishly, breathing in his distinctive scent.

"Good. Now shut your mouth and sleep. I’m fucking tired”, he grumbled, starting to rub small circles over your soft skin with his thumb.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 Would you like a second part? Been thinking about giving Ben what he wanted from (y/n) for months.😏

-

Part 2

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 2]

Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 2: Crewel and Crowley)

ie. Mr. Rogerson has awesome dalmatians and his wife makes even better cookies. Meanwhile, Crewel continues to be an emotionally constipated mess, and Crowley is... himself.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

You were met at the door by a pair of over enthusiastic dalmatians—the chaotically cute duo sending you ass-first to the office floor in a merry greeting that was more of a graceless tackle than anything else.

“You brought Poe and Perdy!” you exclaimed, laughing past the face kisses.

“Well, they’d never forgive me if I didn’t,” Mister Rogerson huffed good naturedly. “Do you know how much this little nutter cried when I came home the other day and he realized you’d been by? Ages, I’m telling you. Thought he was going to pout me into an early grave.”

You squished both of them affectionately and showered the lovely, spotted, beasts with every compliment under the sun.

“Oh! Before I forget…” the professor rustled around in his leather messenger bag and retrieved a neatly packaged pastry box all bundled up in a colorful, twine, bow. You accepted the treats happily and removed yourself from the dog-pile to take your usual place on the well-worn piano bench. “Annie made you some more cookies, seeing as you liked the last ones so much.”

“Did you help?” you asked.

“Hmm? What makes you say that?”

You held up the first treat from the pile—half-singed on one side and squishy with raw dough on the other.

“You caught me!” he laughed, and retrieved a second box. “These are from Annie. Those are my failures.”

“Such horrible lies,” you tutted, dramatic. “Trying to trick an innocent victim into ingesting poison just so that you can keep all the good ones for yourself.”

“Hey, they’re not that bad!” he defended, taking a large chomp out of one of the less charred looking of his creations. Immediately his cheeks went nearly green. “Or… maybe they are.”

You pushed a water bottle in his direction which he accepted gratefully. There was always a stash of them just to the left of his composer’s stand, and another hoard in a conspicuous looking storage cube closer to the piano at which you’d perched yourself. There were more sweets hidden in his desk drawers too, for when something stronger than water was needed to wash away whatever awful thing he’d tried to ingest. You knew where a lot of ‘secret’ things were in this room. It felt nice, to be so privy to all its little treasures.

“You know,” he smiled, finishing the last of his water with a final gulp. “Annie keeps pestering me to have you come by for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you hesitated, looking around the room where so many of your little odds and ends had already started to accumulate. Empty mugs, the patch that had fallen off your jacket, the thread which you’d intended to use to fix said patch. Just… little footprints showing you’d been by.  “Well, any more at least.”

“Nonsense,” Mister Rogerson laughed. “You’re more than welcome! But we don’t mean to pressure you, of course! Especially if you’re busy! Just something to think about if you’d like. Anyways, how has your day been?”

And thus began your afternoon ritual. You would sit and split Annie’s delicious cookies as you rambled about your various grievances. Mister Rogerson would inevitably come and take a seat beside you on the piano bench and start playing some gentle strains of this or that—‘just little things he was working on,’ he’d said. Occasionally you’d accidentally lean on the keys, throwing the whole thing into a cacophonous mess. But he would just chuckle and replay whatever the piano had just screeched, calling it a ‘fascinating addition’ and merrily jotting bits of it into his notes. It was nice. Better than nice. And you didn’t realize just how comfortable you’d become in your daily chitchats until you’d become perhaps a bit too comfortable.

“It’s just been so exhausting. And on top of all the other ridiculous things, I’m so sick of that fact that it’s like my job to be their personal punching bags or whatever when they’re Overblotting all over the place, and—”

The piano cut off abruptly.

Mister Rogerson’s hazel eyes had gone wide, as if he was spooked. Immediately you realized that you’d said something that you should not have.

“There are students at Night Raven College who have Overblotted?” he asked, slow, like he couldn’t even believe the words were coming out of his mouth.

“What? No. Of course not!” you lied, like a liar.

“Kiddo,” he frowned, stern. “You just said—"

“—I mean, no one’s actually Overblotted, Overblotted,” you spluttered hastily, rifling frantically through your brain for every plausible excuse you could cough up. “It’s more that I’ve heard a lot about Blot, and how it becomes a—you know—Overblot. Which sounds really scary, and like something that I never, ever, want to actually see! And it’s just that everyone there is a mess, so I guess I should I have said that I’m more just worried about Overblotting.” 

A pause.

“Which, again, I’ve never, ever, actually seen.”

More silence.

“…Ever.”

Mister Rogerson sighed, apparently relieved by your bullshitting, and slumped forward over the piano keys.

“That’s… That’s good. You really scared me there for a moment, kiddo. Overblots are no small matter. They have to be reported to the proper authorities and dealt with accordingly. It’s a whole fiasco, and paperwork and legal proceedings aside, it’s dangerous.” He laid a gentle hand across your shoulder. “I’m just glad you haven’t been anywhere near something like that.”

You swallowed a chunk of wayward cookie, hoping you didn’t look horrifically guilty. But then some other part of what he’d just rattled off stuck in your head and that shame was wiped away by panic.

“They’d be taken away?” you whispered, something unpleasant and nervous curling in your gut.

Mister Rogerson looked down at you with a sympathetic wrinkle to his brow. He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can. Does that make sense?”

You thought of Riddle, crying into his hands after years of emotional neglect—and then of the pair of you sitting in the Heartslabyul gardens after all was said and done, eating strawberry tarts with your fingers like little children. You thought of Leona, miserable and bitter as he was, finally breaking after an entire lifetime of feeling like nothing but a failure who slunk about in his brother’s shadow—and then how just last week the beastman had been lounging in the sun with his head in your lap, grouchily demanding your leftovers. You thought of Azul, and his bullies, and his stupid desire to take on the world just to prove he could. You thought of all the friends you’d made, and of just how many of them really needed a goddamn therapist. You thought about them being taken away to who-even-knew-where. Where you’d probably never see any of them again. And where you wouldn’t even know what was happening to them.

General grumpiness with the lot of them aside, your friends were the one, genuine, beacon of warmth in this miserable, cold, new world. Sure, they were all assholes. Mega assholes. But you knew that they’d stand by you through anything—do anything, if you needed the help.

 And the idea of giving up on them? Just like that? Because it was protocol?

Your stomach roiled and you set the cookies off to the side.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Mister Rogerson frowned, taking in whatever unpleasant expression was no doubt twisting your face into knots. “We shouldn’t talk about it anymore. It’s not a fun topic.” He slid a new page of sheet music across the piano’s sleek, black, shelf. “Here. I started writing this the other day. What do you think?”

Strains of upbeat jazz threaded through the room and Perdy and Poe came over to mouth playfully at your ankles—no doubt begging for crumbs. Soon enough you were laughing along, clapping off beat and making jokes at the expense of his nonsense lyrics. You still liked Mister Rogerson. You liked him a lot. And you didn’t doubt that he was a genuinely kind person.

You’d just… maybe have to be a bit more careful about what you let slip.

.

.

“It’s kinda like being in therapy,” you explained to a very frustrated looking Deuce. “Like, how you want to say just enough to get help but not enough for them to throw you into an asylum. You feel?”

“What in the fuck are you on,” Ace gaped.

“See, if any of you actually even knew what therapy was, you’d get it.”

“I still can’t believe that’s where you’ve been every afternoon,” Deuce frowned, poking at his lunch with a consternated sort of look on his face. “Don’t you—I don’t know…”

“What?” you asked.

“Feel horrifically guilty and maybe like you should be burnt at the stake?” Ace complained, reaching over to swipe a fry from your plate. Grim hissed and swatted at his fingers—his little mouth stuffed too full of your half-eaten burger to yell much of anything else. “You’re a traitor, that’s what you are. Prancing around with those goody-two-shoes in their stupid, shiny, building every damn day like a—like a—”

“A frog?” Deuce suggested.

“What, no. Dude—”

“Frogs prance!”

“Frogs fucking jump, you ingrate—”

A heavy box landed on the table with a THUD, sending the quarrelling duo into silence. A mountain of homemade chocolate chip cookies stared back at them, nearly sparkling in their brilliance.

“Yes,” you intoned, stern. “It’s worth it.”

“It’s worth it,” Grim and Ace agreed heartily, already busy swapping their lunches for sweets.

Deuce sighed and reached for his own cookie. “If you’re sure...”

.

.

Being called into the Headmaster’s Office was not something with which you were unfamiliar. In fact, Crowley not having summoned you into his gloomy chamber over the past few weeks was more of an anomaly than not. Normally he was hurling new jobs at you left and right—organize this event, Prefect. Pick up my groceries, Prefect. The main hall is looking a little dirty, Prefect. Go stop my students from committing mass murder, Prefect. Maybe your wave of insults had rattled him enough to leave you alone for that little while. Or maybe he’d just been biding his time until he could think of something equally as nasty to say back.

Of all the things you were expecting upon trudging back into that office, a scowling Professor Crewel was not one of them.

You blinked owlishly, taken aback.

“Good afternoon, Professor.”

His lip curled, sour, and you fought the intense and suicidal urge to ask him just who’d pissed in his cornflakes that morning because damn. You hadn’t even done anything. That you could remember. Maybe. And besides, if either of you had any right to be acting all bitter and pissy it was you. Not Mister ‘I Have No Intention of Playing Parent to Anyone.’ The memory had your eyes stinging and your blood boiling all over again. When neither of the men deigned to greet you, you cleared you throat irritably and crossed your arms.

“Can I help you with something, Professor? Headmaster?”

“It has come to our attention that you’ve been sneaking off campus in the evenings,” Professor Crewel declared, with all the civility of an off-grid hermit. “Which I’m certain that you are fully aware is against school policy.”

Crowley just nodded, stiff lipped and robotic, and his silence immediately had you suspicious.

“Well?” Crewel snipped. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Then another.

You smiled, icy. “Then I’m sure this is just another infraction to add to my file. Which I’m very sure totally exists. Right, Headmaster?”

Crewel’s dark glower swiveled in Crowley’s direction, and you watched the Old Crow audibly gulp.

“Because of course, you keep proper records on all your students here,” you continued, happy to push your luck. “Especially the ones in special circumstances, and whose documentation is therefore not automatically forwarded to you by their previous schools. Right, Headmaster?”

You’d never seen a more apt demonstration of the expression ‘sweating bullets.’ It was intensely satisfying. Professor Crewel looked like he was heavily debating turning Crowley into a feather boa. After a too-long moment where you were pretty sure you were about to witness a murder, the two-toned professor sighed and turned back to you with a stiff sneer.

“It’s not safe,” he said, and you gaped at him.

“What?”

“It’s not safe,” he repeated, practically grinding his teeth. “What were you even thinking? Leaving Night Raven when you know full that you have no other connections in this entire world! Running off with a complete stranger on top of that.”

“Mister Rogerson isn’t a stranger!” you defended, resentment bubbling beneath your skin. How dare he? Now he cared? Now you weren’t just a leech, or a brat, or—or—No. It wasn’t fair. “And it’s not like I ran off into the woods or something! I’m at another school!”

Crowley slammed his clawed hands down onto his desk with a metallic BANG!

“AH-HAH! YOU ADMIT IT!” he howled. “YOU’VE BEEN GOING TO THE ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY BEHIND OUR BACKS!”

“I left you a note telling you that was exactly where I was!”

“YOU’VE BEEN CONSORTING WITH OUR ENEMY! AND AFTER I’VE WORKED SO HARD TO RAISE YOU AS MY OWN!” He wailed, inconsolable. “ARE YOU TRADING OFF MY GRIMOIRE TO AMBROSE, TOO? WOULD YOU STOP AT NOTHING TO SHATTER MY POOR HEART?!”

“I don’t even know what that means, but I wish I was!”

“Enough!” Crewel snarled, cracking his pointer across the desktop. “Both of you!”

“But he—!” you defended.

“Detention!” he barked.

“What?! That’s no fair!—”

“Detention!” he snapped again. “Three weeks!”

“Are you joking?! I didn’t even do anything!—”

“Four weeks,” he growled.

You pressed your lips shut, feeling your mouth wobble and your eyes warm with frustrated tears.

“Yes, sir,” you finally managed to grit out, and then turned without another word and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind you.

.

.

.

‘That may have been too much,’ Crowley had the gall to say to him, after Crewel had just watched the man have an entire meltdown in his desk chair and accuse you of outright subterfuge.

‘That may have been too much.’

The alchemist had watched, carefully stone faced, as your eyes had welled and you’d glared him down with a look that was a step or two past betrayed. Something tightened uncomfortably in his chest, and he refused to put a name to it. Naming things gave them power, allowed them to grow and spread. Like a tumor. This was all your own doing, and the subsequent punishment was clearly for your own good. So, what? He steps a bit too far and says something that’s perhaps just a bit too cold, and you go running off to—to Cliff Rogerson of all people? Pettiness is not an excuse for making poor, stupid, unsafe, decisions. And he would have certainly responded to any other student in exactly the same fashion.

‘That may have been too much.’

Crewel grit his teeth and fought the urge to run his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally he could use Badun as a stress ball, but he’d stopped bringing the dogs to campus when you’d continued to refuse to show up to his office. It had stressed them terribly, and it was unfair to force them to sit through the same, dull, solitude that he had to endure just on the off chance that you may change your mind and come wandering in. Jasper hardly acknowledged him at all anymore—only grumbled at him miserably when he returned in the evenings before curling up by the fireplace for the rest of the night.   

‘That may have been too much.’

It… It really, probably, was. And he really should… apologize, shouldn’t he?

Divus Crewel could deny it all he liked, but he knew well and good that he wouldn’t have treated your classmates in such a manner. That unnamed twinge behind his ribs may have influenced his reaction a bit more than it should have, especially when he himself had so clearly relegated your place in his life to ‘by professional association only.’

So he forced himself to straighten his fur coat and start the trek to Ramshackle. It was a grueling walk, with broken pathways and rivers of mud. No wonder you were always running late to things. Perhaps he should bring this up to Crowley, and—

A familiar face stopped him in his tracks, and a wave of red-hot irritation worked its way through his veins as efficiently and viciously as one of the poisons he was so keen to brew.

“Oh,” Cliff Rogerson blinked back at him, “Divus! Good to see you.” It was not. It didn’t sound like Cliff thought it was either.“No need to call campus security or anything. I’m just here to pick up the Prefect for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Crewel repeated. It sounded bitter in his mouth.

“Annie’s making lasagna,” Cliff stage-whispered, like a secret.

“Can we get going?” you called and Crewel startled, noticing you off to the side for the first time. You looked so… small, for some reason. Hunched, maybe. Just, not your usual larger-than-life self—the Otherworldly Hero who showed up swinging to every fight, always armed to the teeth and ready to duel any monster, every horror. It made something in his gut twist unpleasantly. “I’m starving.”

“Of course, kiddo,” Cliff laughed and tossed an arm across your shoulders.

“How lovely,” Crewel interrupted, trying and failing to force the steel from his voice, “But I think that maybe you should reexamine your professional priorities. That hardly seems appropriate.”

“Oh, come now,” Cliff smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “It’s only dinner. And besides,” he chuckled, and gave your arm a fond squeeze, “Annie and I have always wanted kids.”

‘I have no intention of playing parent to anyone.’

A deep, cold, sort of dread rattled through Divus Crewel’s bones and settled all the way in the pit of his stomach. It was similar to the sensation that had been slowly clawing its way through him these past few weeks—the very same unpleasantness that he had refused to name.

‘You know,’ Crowley’s grating voice swam through his head once more. ‘That really may have been too much.’

.

.

[valtsv]

fuck it. silt verses oc masterpost. eat up.

- anastasis crane - god-hunter, atheist, and wandering vagabond. both predator and prey in a single being. does dirty work so others don't have to. it's ya boy annie.

- house crane - old money cult family who rebranded after their god was outlawed following the imago war. now they construct and review binding contracts for both peninsulan and linger straits bodies of commerce and government - with an emphasis on the "binding" aspect. rumour has it they've been granted special dispensation to keep practicing their illegal and rather nasty banned rituals, so long as they're discrete and keep providing their services to the people who matter. they don't mix much with anyone outside of the family except on business, and are rarely seen in public. it's generally agreed that the reports of many of them being not altogether human are just scary stories for children, but a few people have claimed (under the influence of a few rounds at the local bar) to have known someone who worked for someone high up in business or politics who can confirm the truth of such claims with their own eyes. of course, these people have generally since disappeared, which makes corroboration difficult. their characteristic spindly, spidery features are probably just a product of ancestral aristocratic inbreeding. probably.

- fen kahron - ferryman presiding over a treacherous stretch of marshland. you will not be able to cross without her help, but that hasn't stopped people from trying, either out of principle or to avoid the toll, which takes the form of something of personal value to the individual. fortunately, her god's mouth is always open. she's not terribly fond of the parish of tide and flesh - her relationship to her god is personal, and they keep trying to convert her. which is silly, really, because she's been dead for a very long time.

- the carrion-herald / the bleach-bone king - an angel/saint(?) of death and decay that feeds on the dead and dying in extreme, remote environments where rescue or retrieval is unlikely. his coming is heralded by his halo of carrion birds seen circling overhead. those who worship him see this as a sign of luck - either you've been chosen to meet him, or to bear witness to his procession.

- harmony joy - a love-saint who leads a dancing plague. once human, she called a god into her in her aching loneliness after being ostracised utterly from her community and forced to bear witness to their collective happiness together, which blessed her to dance forever so beautifully that she would never want for a partner again. she might seem sentient at first, but spend long enough in her company (not recommended) and you'll soon realise that her apparent personality is simply a fragmented collection of lovingly preserved scraps of her past lovers, who, once in her thrall, will dance until their bodies give out, even if their minds should break and skin and sinew should snap and be torn away in strips. sightings of her procession have dwindled in recent years, likely due to modern technological advancements allowing for more effective deterrence and warning systems, as well as the improvements in long-range weaponry, but she still features prominently in urban legends and cautionary tales about staying out late alone.

[ferrettaur]

Hey, we could use some help

My name is Erik, I'm sort of the head of the household for the five of us living under one roof in a two bedroom house currently.

We are all trans, and varying amounts and types of disabled. I am working the most that I can, but with two others of us being recently unemployed, and one of those two unable to work for some time while she's recovering from surgery, we cannot collectively make enough money to pay for all our bills.

I have to watch a full paycheck each month evaporate instantly just to cover rent and then spread the other two week paycheck out over the whole month.

It's looking like we're not going to be able to cover these two bills or groceries.

I'm setting our goal at $400 to help cover the cost of both of these bills and groceries.

$500/400

Anything additional will be going towards the credit card debts racked up recently where we've been struggling to make ends meet.

PP / V / Kofi

@ferrettaur @mono-red-menace @roboticvenusian @raptorgirlkillingclaw (and the 5th housemate doesn't have a tumblr)

see also: Annie's donation post from last month, that is also us

[kingpreciouswrld]

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.” 

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock. 

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.” 

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ║ ❝𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐚𝐝, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞❞

(A/n) ➳ Five chapters down, six more to go! Yep this series is meant to be eleven chapters. I think I made Daryl not Daryl. I don’t know if that made sense but I hope it does.

Word Count ➳ 840

Content Warnings ➳ Womanizer Shane, talks of marriage, unrequited love, rejection, light sexual content, swearing, OOC/Soft Daryl…

JUDAS Masterlist

YOU STARED AT THE RECENT TEXT FROM AMY.

You wanted to huff, but you sat across from Shane whose eyes remained on you. His gaze made you sit up unconsciously and uncomfortably, even when you looked out at the window beside you, his gaze never moved.

The two of you sat in silence, utensils clicking against plates and the gentle sounds of the neighboring tables. It wasn’t until Shane’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I remember you sayin’ you wanted to travel. Do you still have those plans?”

You shrugged, tearing into the steak with your fork and knife. “Hard to say, money has been tight. I’m surprised you even remember that, I don’t.”

“It was the night we all went to the drive-in theater. You sounded so happy ‘bout it.” Shane reached into his wallet, pulling out a photo of said night.

You looked up at the sky, a wide smile on your face. You wore a thick jacket that you had a feeling that it was Shane’s. You could barely see Rick and Lori, both of them eating each other’s faces.

“You kept this? Why?”

“Memories, I like to keep ‘em close.” He replied, pulling the photo back into his wallet. “And I wanted to travel with you.”

“Ever tell that to the girls who cling to your arm?” You lifted an eyebrow, brought the piece of steak to your lips, eating it. “Who would’ve gotten angry? Susie? Jamie? Or Scarlet? She would’ve become a storm.”

Shane’s eyes flickered with regret. “Should’ve known you’d never let that go. I know I ain’t ever shown you that I do love you, but I’m ‘ere how. I ain’t got plans to go anywhere without you. Even if I’m second-”

“Stop. Jus’ stop.” You dropped your fork and knife, running your hands over your face. “I-I can’t, Shane. I won’t. I ain’t gonna put you through the pain of being with me. I ain’t gonna do it, you can’t convince me.”

You don’t see the way his eyes narrowed, how his jaw clenched. “I love you, (Y/n). I’m willin’ to make this work.”

“But I ain’t. I can’t love how a wife should love her husband.” Your heart raced but you tried to sound stern and remain firm in your decision. “You are my friend and that’s all.”

You reached into your purse and took out enough to cover your portion to cover your meal. You dropped it into the table and stood, eyes locking with Shane’s.

“I’m sorry Shane.” You slipped on your jacket. “I hope you can understand.”

Without another word, you walked out of the restaurant. You walked into the parking lot of the restaurant, leaning against a random car and fumbling with your phone.

You did it. You finally did it. You should’ve felt clear by now, like weight was taken off your back. But why was your heart still racing? Why were you worrying about the opinions of Lori and Rick? What would they say now?

You knew what they wanted for you. It was probably a dream they wanted. High school sweethearts friends with high school sweethearts. So the friend group would still be together.

You dialed Daryl’s number. After a few rings, Daryl answered, his voice rough and warm. “Hey-”

“Tell me this ain’t bullshit.” You cut him off. “Tell me that all of this isn’t for fun. That I’m not some other girl.”

“Y’know, the bar ain’t the first time I saw ya. I came into the diner late, saw ya.”

“Really? What was I wearing?”

“Ya was comin’ out of a room. White shirt, black skirt, boots, with hooped earrings that shined. Ya was standing next to a blonde.”

“Yeah, Annie. I was leavin’ my shift. You must’ve been lookin’ at her who’s better than me.”

“Ya seriously think that?”

“Yeah, so why ain’t you hookin’ up with her?”

“‘Cause she looked miserable. Didn’t matter how much that woman smiled, it was fake. And at the bar, it wasn’t fake. Ya were where you wanted to be, I swear to ya. I ne’er met anyone like ya and it makes me want to enjoy life again… (Y/n)?”

Daryl had brought you back to your place. His hands are carefully slipping off your shirt, dragging his hands over your exposed skin.

“Am I gonna be some other guy to you?” He whispered against the skin of your neck, his hot breath sending chills.

“Never. ‘Cause I know you.”

He hummed, planting kisses down your neck, chest, and down to your stomach. “Do ya now?”

“There’s more to you.” Daryl lifted his head, coming back up. You take it as a chance to wrap your arms around his neck. “I can see past the cold face you put on. Like at the bar. But everytime you were with me, you ain’t a hardass.”

Daryl chuckled in response. “Ya gettin’ yerself into deep shit, only a fool would.”

“Could a fool fall in love?”

“Yer a hopeless woman.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck ,

⊰ Chapter 4 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 6 ⊰

[winchesterwild78]

The Tutor part 3

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, language, angst, panic attack, mention of phone sex, fluff

A/N: Just a quick idea that popped in my head. A short series, maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I don’t know yet. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction. Jensen has children in this, but I do not use their real names. 

Reader is a teacher and is asked to tutor Jensen’s child. Things develop between Jensen and the reader. I do not condone cheating, again, this is a work of fiction.

This chapter got a little long. Sorry not sorry. 😀 Please overlook any errors. I wrote this fast and edited it fast. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next morning you woke up early. You stretched and reached for Jensen. His side of the bed was empty and your heart sank. Surely he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. 

You climbed out of bed, threw your clothes on and left the room. The house was still dark and very quiet. As you got to the bottom step you saw Jensen sitting on the deck, coffee in hand, and hair still a mess from sleep. You bit your lip looking at him. You could definitely get used to this view first thing in the morning. 

You walked to the door and opened it. Jensen looked up and smiled at you. “Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” You bent down and kissed his lips, “Good morning baby, I slept amazing. How did you sleep?” “Better than I have in years. Come here darlin’,” he pulled you into his lap. You giggled as you fell. “God I’m going to miss you so much.” Jensen said as he tilted your chin up. “I’m going to miss you too, Jensen.” 

“Promise me you’ll call as much as you can. I know filming is crazy, but when you’re able to.” “I can guarantee I will, every chance I can.” He pulled you into a deep kiss. 

His phone went off, it was time for him to get ready. Your lips lingered a few minutes longer before you pulled away. You both stood. His eyes were filled with love and sadness. You moved out of his way so he could walk inside. 

Your heart was heavy with sadness. You knew he was going to call, but you’d miss his touch. Being here with him and the kids has felt like home. How could you leave? You wanted to stay in this moment with him forever. 

“Jensen, wait.” Jensen stopped before he went inside. He turned, facing you. “Yes baby?” “I’ll move into the guest house. I want to be here. Safe and near you. I lo …” You stopped yourself. Jensen looked at you, lifted your chin and placed a searing kiss on your lips. “I’m glad you’re moving in. I’d do anything to keep you safe, and I know baby. I feel it too.” 

You took a shaky breath in. You almost said it. Those three little words. You knew you were falling for him. Everything with him was easy and felt incredible. 

His thumb rubbed across your cheek before he let you go. “Leaving you will be one of the hardest things I have to do.” You smiled, “I know Jensen, I know.” 

Jensen walked in the house and went upstairs to shower and get ready. Walking into the kitchen you started cooking breakfast and making coffee. The kids woke up and came downstairs to eat and see Jensen off. There was a heaviness in the air. 

You and the kids had sad faces and Jensen chuckled. “Aww guys, it’s only for a few days. I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll call every night and when I get back I don’t have to go anywhere for a while. We will all be together for the holidays. 

Jensen’s daughter, Annie looked at him, “Is mommy coming home soon? For Christmas?” “I’m not sure, baby. I hope so.” Your heart broke for the kids. You knew the marriage was over, but the kids didn’t. They missed their mother. 

After breakfast was finished, you made Jensen a cup of coffee to go. He hugged and kissed the kids goodbye. You craved his lips. Biting your lip you looked at him. He pulled you into a hug. It took you by surprise. “Thank you again for keeping them. I owe you.” As he pulled away he placed a kiss on your cheek. “You’re welcome Jensen. I hope you have a great flight and we can’t wait to see you when you come back.” 

“Hey guys, can you help dad out for a second. I can’t find my fancy comb. Can y’all please go look for it?” The kids took off. Jensen grabbed you, “that should keep them busy for a few minutes.” He pulled you into a passionate kiss. You moaned into his mouth. As the sound of little feet on the stairs filled the room he pulled away. “Thank you baby” you whispered. 

Jensen smiled at you and squeezed your hand. You knew the two of you had to steal a kiss when the kids weren’t around. It would confuse them and cause unneeded problems. You were thankful Jensen made an effort to steal those moments. 

The kids ran in the room with a comb in hand. “Oh thank you guys so much!” He pulled all three of them in for a hug. There were tears and his youngest daughter wouldn’t let go of his neck. “Baby, daddy will be home before you know it. You’re going to have such a great time with Ms. Y/N while I’m gone. I heard she’s got cookie dough ready for you guys to make cookies.” She turned and looked at you, you smiled and nodded your head. 

She wiggled out of his arms and told him goodbye. “I love you guys so much. I’ll miss you every second I’m gone.” The kids said their goodbyes and I love yous as Jensen grabbed his bag. “You three be good for Ms Y/N.” “We will daddy.” 

You walked with Jensen to his car. He grabbed your hand, “I’m going to miss you every second I’m gone too. I love you, Y/N. Hell I know it’s too soon, but I can’t help it. I’m in love with you.” Tears pricked your eyes, “I’m in love with you too, Jensen. I’m going to miss you every second too. I love you baby.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. “Bye sweetheart. I’ll text you when I land.”

Jensen climbed in his car and as he drove away your heart ached but was so full. Walking back into the house you saw Annie standing near the front door. Your heart beat wildly in your chest. Did she see her dad kiss me? Did she hear us? Oh god, please don’t tell me she saw us.

“Ms. Y/N, is daddy really going to call us every day?” “Yes, sweetie. Daddy just told me he’s going to text when he lands too. He told me earlier he was going to video chat with you guys every night.” “Okay. I miss daddy when he’s gone.” “I know you do sweetie, but he’s going to be home really soon.” “I know. I miss mommy too. She’s never at home anymore.” Your heart clenched at her words. “Well, I don’t know your mommy as well as I know your daddy, but I do know she loves you three very much.”

She gave you a hug and walked away. You walked in the kitchen to start cleaning up. The house phone rang so you answered, “Ackles residence.” “Who is this?” A woman’s voice asked. “This is Y/N. I’m helping Mr. and Mrs. Ackles with the children, may I ask who this is?” “Oh, hey, Y/N. It’s Mrs. Ackles. Has Jensen left for work yet?” “Oh hi Mrs. Ackles, yes he left about 10 minutes ago.” “Okay, great. I’ll be home in about 30 minutes.” “Oh that’s great. The kids have missed you.” “Well I’ll see you guys soon.” 

You hung up and was slightly confused. She told Jensen she wouldn’t be back for a week and that’s why you were watching the kids. You didn’t mind watching them, but it still confused you. 

Then it hit you. You and Jensen had sex in their bed, and the used condom was in the trash in their bathroom. You ran up the stairs to the bedroom, made the bed and emptied the trash. You threw the bathroom trash into the trash in the kitchen, then took it outside to the trash can. 

As you came back inside your phone went off. 

Jensen: Hey darlin’. I’m about to board the flight. I just wanted to tell you last night was incredible and I can’t wait to have you in my arms again. I love you.

You: Hey babe. Have a safe flight. I can’t wait either. I love you too. Your wife called and she said she’d be home soon. I made the bed and took out the bathroom trash. 😉

Jensen: When is she coming home?

You: She said in about half an hour.

Jensen: Of course she is. I doubt she’s going to stay long. 

You: I hope she does, the kids miss her. I’ll let you know when you call tonight if she’s here. I doubt we can have that phone sex you promised if she’s here.

Jensen: Of course we can. Go to your bedroom. I left you a present on the dresser.

You: What?! Jensen you didn’t have to get me anything.

Jensen: Yes I did. Trust me, it will make phone sex so much easier, especially if she’s at home.

You: Walking in my room now.

You: Jensen! I can’t believe you bought me earbuds.

Jensen: I told you it would make it easier. Now you can hear me and nobody else can. 

You: You’re a genius. 😘

Jensen: I do have an occasional good idea every now and then. I love you, boarding now.

You: I love you too, safe flight my love.

You walked out of your room smiling. The front door opened and Mrs. Ackles walked in. “Hey, Y/N! It’s good to see you.” “Hey, it’s good to see you too. Welcome home.” “Oh it’s good to be home.” Just then a man walked in behind her. You looked at the man and realized it was the man from the article. “Y/N, this is Josh, Josh, this is Y/N. She’s the tutor we hired for the kids. She was so sweet and offered to keep the kids too while Jensen went to work.” 

You extended your hand, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” “Yeah, you too.” There was a bit of an awkward silence between the three of you. “Well, I’m going to unpack, I’ll be back shortly. Um, Josh, can you carry my suitcase upstairs please?” Inside you rolled your eyes. You’re not being slick, you know that. I know what you’re doing. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” He grabbed her bag and walked upstairs with it. You went back into your room, grabbed your book and took it out on the balcony. You settled in the chair and started to read. 

A few minutes later you heard Jessica crying. You put your book down and ran into the house. “Jessica, what’s wrong?” Before she could answer you saw Jensen’s wife in a robe, hair a mess and trying to get to her daughter. The two of you made eye contact and a flash of embarrassment filled her eyes. Jessica clung to you and wouldn’t look at her mother. 

“Jessica Marie, look at me!” Her big green eyes, full of tears, looked at her mother. “Why did you walk in mommy’s room like that? You know you’re not supposed to when the door is shut.” Oh great parenting. Blame the child for you fucking your boyfriend in your bed, during the day with your children at home. Real fucking smart.

“I heard something. I didn’t know you were home. Why was Uncle Josh laying on you like that?” You looked at her and she looked terrified. “Y/N, would you please excuse me and Jessica. I’d like to speak to my daughter privately.” “Oh, of course.” Jessica clung to you and wouldn’t let you go. “Sweetie. I’ll be in my room. Talk to your mommy.” 

You walked into your room and closed the door. Your heart ached for Jessica and wished Jensen was at home. You quickly realized she walked in on her mom and Josh. She was too young to understand what was going on, but not too young to know that Uncle Josh was in mommy’s bed.

A few minutes later there was a knock on your door. “Come in.” Mrs Ackles opened the door and stepped in. “Y/N, can we talk woman to woman?” “Sure.” She sat down at the foot of the bed. “So obviously you know what Jess walked into. I’m not going to lie and say it’s not what you think. It’s exactly what you think. Josh and I were having sex. We’re together. Jensen is aware of it. We haven’t been happy in a really long time. You understand, as women we have needs. Needs my husband can’t satisfy anymore. I’m in love with Josh and he’s in love with me. Jensen and I are only married for PR purposes.” You sat listening to her in complete disbelief. “I get it. Marriage is hard. My husband and I have split up because he started to get abusive. I moved in with my best friend a few months ago, however my ex came to my school and beat me up in the parking lot. Since he knows where she lives, Jensen offered me the guest house. He said you wouldn’t mind. Since there is security here and my ex doesn’t know where you live, Jensen figured it would be safer.” 

“Oh my goodness honey, I’m so sorry you’re going through that. I can honestly say no matter what’s happened between me and Jensen, he’s never once put his hands on me. He really is a nice guy, but I just don’t love him. All I ask is you don’t tell Jensen about this fiasco today. Let me tell him, so we can figure out how to address it with the children.” “Of course, it’s not my place to tell him.” 

A few minutes later you were left alone in the room. You were torn, could you really judge her after you had sex with her husband in that same bed last night? The kids were home then too, the difference, they were asleep, and he locked the door. 

Trying your best not to judge her, you busied yourself with packing. Since she was home you figured you weren’t needed. 

You had planned to go back to Y/F/N’s house and pack. Coming out of the room you saw her and Josh standing in the kitchen. “Mrs Ackles, I’m going to head out since you’re home. I’ll be back later today. 

“Oh okay, well we aren’t staying long. I just came home to do laundry and grab some things.” 

You stood stunned. She’d just come home. Her children desperately missed her. “Okay. Well I won’t be gone long then. I’ll see y’all later.” 

Walking to your car your heart was heavy. Her children missed her, but she was more concerned with spending time with her boyfriend. Your heart broke for the kids. Driving to Y/F/N’s house you hoped Jeff wasn’t around so you could get your stuff and leave. You still had a ton of stuff at the house you shared with Jeff, but you were too afraid to go over there without someone with you. 

Pulling up to the house you noticed Y/F/N was home. Walking in the house she was so excited to see you. You filled her in on what was going on and told her you were moving into the guest house of the family you tutor for. “Come on, Y/N, you have to tell me who it is.” “Sorry, I can’t. Not only for their protection, but for yours. If Jeff came over you could truly tell him you didn’t know where I am.” “Fine, I just think you’re not telling me because the dad is super hot and you’re secretly having an affair with him.” She started laughing and so did you. You desperately wanted to tell her about you and Jensen, but you needed to protect him. 

You packed up your stuff and loaded up your car. You hugged her goodbye and told her you’d be in touch. Once the dad returned you’d be free to hang out again. Driving back to Jensen’s house your phone went off.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. I’ve landed, gonna grab my bags and head to the hotel. I’ll call you when I get there. How are the kids? Did she ever come home?

You: Hey baby. Glad you arrived safely. The kids are okay. I ran to Y/F/N’s house to pack so I could move in. She did, but she’s leaving again. 

Jensen: Of course she is. I can’t wait for you to move in. 😘 Okay. I’ll call you later. I love you.

You: I can’t either. Maybe you can sneak out and come see me. 😉 I love you too.

Jensen: That’s the idea. 

You smiled and bit your lip. God this was going to be hard. Pretending he means nothing to you around his wife and kids when he means everything to you. 

You arrived back at Jensen’s house late afternoon. Mrs. Ackles, Josh and the kids were in the living room when you arrived. “Hey, Y/N. Did you get your stuff?” “Yeah, most of it. It’s in the car right now.” “Well let me get you the key to the guest house. Josh can help you bring in the boxes.” “Oh, sure, thanks.” 

She stood and made her way to the kitchen to get the keys. You walked outside to the back and unlocked the door to the guest house. It was spacious and beautiful. There was a small kitchen and living room, a bedroom in the back and a bathroom between the bedroom and the living area. It was fully furnished too, which was a great help. 

The bedroom had a queen sized bed, which you thought was the perfect size for you and Jensen. 

Josh carried some boxes in for you. When he put them down he looked at you, “So um, you’re not going to say anything to Jensen are you?” “No, I’m not. It’s not my place.” “Okay, thanks.” You nodded and he walked out. 

A few hours later she was telling the kids goodbye, again. The kids were in tears. She told them she would be back in about a week, that she just came home to get some more clothes. Annie was angry, “Why don’t you love us anymore? You’re always gone.” “Oh Annie, I do love you guys. I just have some grown up things to take care of. I promise I will be back soon.” 

Annie walked away and didn’t say goodbye to her mother. The other two cried and hugged her. When she pulled them off of her they clung to you. “Y/N, thank you again for taking care of them.” You nodded, trying to hide your anger. Her and Josh walked out the door. 

A little while later your phone rang with a video call. Jensen’s name flashed on the screen. “Guys, guess who’s calling me?!” You called the kids. The three of them ran in excited. You answered the phone and saw Jensen sitting shirtless on a bed. You bit your lip. “Daddy!” Annie yelled. Jess and Jensen Jr came running to the phone, “Daddy!” You smiled as Jensen talked to his children and they told him about their day. Jensen noticed Jessica was unusually quiet when he asked about her day. She looked at you and then at Jensen. “Daddy, Mommy was mad at me.” “What? Why baby girl?” You knew she was about to tell him, but you didn’t know how to stop her. “I went in your room.” Jensen looked confused, “What happened in my room, baby girl?” “Mommy was in there with Uncle Josh, and he was on top of her. They were making funny sounds.” 

You saw Jensen’s jaw tighten and a flash of anger in his eyes. “It’s okay baby girl. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The kids and Jensen talked for a little while longer before they said their goodbyes, “Hey guys, let me talk to Ms Y/N before I hang up. I love you three so much.”

Annie handed you back your phone and Jensen waited, “They’re outside now.” “What the fuck happened?” Jensen asked with venom in his voice. “Honestly I’m not sure. I was in my room, reading and I heard Jess crying. So I came out, when I saw her your wife was coming down the steps in a robe. Apparently her and Josh were having sex and Jess walked in on it.” 

Jensen ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “She was screwing him in my bed?! What the hell was she thinking doing that with the kids there.” “Jensen, honey, we did the exact same thing last night too.” “Right, but we locked the door and the kids were asleep for fucks sake. I knew she was screwing him, but to bring him in the house and do that with our children at home in the middle of the day is just insane.” 

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I wish I could have protected her from that.” “It’s not your fault darlin’. Is she still there?” “No, they left again. She said she’d be back in about a week.” “Okay, well I have a night shoot today, then I’m shooting tomorrow. If all goes well I should be back by Wednesday.” “I can’t wait until you’re home. I already miss you.” “I miss you too, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.” You smiled.

“Well baby, text me when the kids go to sleep, I shouldn’t be shooting yet, so if you’re up for some fun, I’ll video call you.” He winked at you and you giggled. “I will, Jensen. I’m looking forward to it.” “Good, well I need to head out. I’m going to the studio to sign some things and get stuff ready. I love you, Y//N.” “I love you too, Jensen.” 

Hours later when the kids were finally in bed you sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey baby, the kids are in bed and so am I. Waiting for you with my earbuds. 😉

You noticed Jensen’s typing bubbles kept appearing and disappearing. You waited for either a text or the video chat to come up, but nothing. As the minutes turned into hours, your heart sank. Maybe he got called to set early. He’s busy, but then why are the bubbles appearing? So many thoughts running through your head. 

You laid down, placing your head on your pillow and your phone next to you. Before too long you were falling asleep. You woke up a few hours later and looked at the clock, 3:45am. You checked your phone and still nothing from him. You sighed heavily, got up, changed your clothes into more appropriate sleepwear, put your phone on silent, and crawled back in bed with a heavy heart.

You missed Jensen, and you were sad he didn’t call you or even text you back. Before going to sleep you sent Jensen a final text.

You: I’m going to bed, you must be busy. Good night, Jensen.

You put your phone down, rolled over and fell asleep. 

The sound of your alarm blaring pulled you from your slumber. You were exhausted. Falling asleep was easy, but you kept waking up. You knew Jensen had an evening shoot, but you couldn’t understand why he didn’t text. 

You grabbed your phone and checked it. Your heart sank, no messages or missed calls. He was probably busy. He’ll call today.

You opened Instagram and started scrolling. Your fingers stopped when you saw a picture of Jensen. He was sitting at a table in a restaurant with the woman who posted the photo. You saw other people there too, but her and Jensen looked really cozy. Your heart clenched in your chest. 

She was gorgeous, a guest star on the show he was on. She was tall, dark hair, thin, and very busty. She’s leaning on Jensen in the photo and he had his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. She’s placing a kiss on his cheek. The caption is what made the tears fall.

“Always a fun time with this cutie, Jensen Ackles. Thanks for such a fun night out. Can’t wait to do it again. 😘” The comments were horrible. Some of the other people in the photo commented that Jensen was hilarious being so drunk last night. Other comments said his wife was going to have to share him. Then Jensen commented, “Yeah, last night was fun. Glad I decided to go out, not glad I drank so much. Bring me some water and a greasy breakfast when you come in today. 😉” 

You sat on your bed and cried. Feeling foolish that Jensen could actually love someone like you. Just an average woman, not beautiful by Hollywood standards, and definitely not a model. You had extra weight, and you worked a Mon-Fri job, hell you were tutoring his kids, and right now you were pretty much their nanny. Maybe you were just a means to an end until he went back to work, or you were just a quick fuck because he wasn’t getting any from his wife. 

Now with him back at work, he wouldn’t need you anymore. Your anxiety started to spiral and within minutes you were in the middle of a full panic attack. Tears streaming down your face. Your heart broke. You allowed yourself to fall in love with him, and you thought he was being genuine when he said he loved you, now you weren’t so sure. You wanted to, no, you needed to talk to him.

You: Jensen, we need to talk. Please call me as soon as you can.

Jensen: Can’t talk right now. Chat later.

You: Okay, I love you.

Jensen: K, chat later.

The sadness overwhelmed you. You curled into a ball on your bed and cried. A few hours later, you cried all you could. Your eyes were swollen and red. Slowly pulling yourself out of bed, you jumped in the shower. 

You tried to wash away all the sadness and humility. Standing under the hot water, it covers you like a warm blanket. The water eventually turned cold, pulling you from your thoughts. You got out, dried off and got dressed. 

You walked into the kitchen and made coffee. The shrill sound of your phone ringing pulled you from your thoughts. Looking at your screen you saw it was a video call from Jensen. You walked back into your room for privacy. Your finger hovering over the answer button. 

You took a steading breath and answered. 

“Hey sweetheart, how are you?” Jensen saw you and his eyes filled with concern, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You looked at your phone as tears slipped out. “Baby, talk to me, please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Are you okay, the kids?”

You softly answered, “The kids are fine, Mr Ackles.” “Are you okay, sweetheart? What’s wrong, and why are you calling me Mr. Ackles?”

You shook your head no. “I’m not okay, but I will be. I can’t do this anymore. When you or Mrs. Ackles gets back. I'll be leaving. I won’t be tutoring the kids anymore. I’m sorry.” “Baby, what happened? Please talk to me.” 

“I can’t compete with the women you work with. You chose to go out last night, drink and hang on that gorgeous woman. Not that I blame you, she’s perfect and I’m not. I waited for you, a text, a call, but I got nothing.” Tears were still falling down your face.

“Y/N, you’re perfect, gorgeous and I’m so in love with you, please baby, please believe me. I’m sorry I didn’t call or text. If I didn’t go out people would have questioned why. By the time I got back to the hotel it was really late and I figured you were asleep.” 

“I…just..” Whole body sobs filled you. Jensen’s heart broke. He had no intention of hurting you. “Sweetheart, please. I don’t want anyone but you. I’m completely in love with you, only you. Please look at me.” 

You lifted your eyes and met his eyes on the screen, and saw pain and love. “That’s my girl, even now you’re beautiful to me. Please baby believe me when I tell you I love you and I never meant to hurt you.”

“Then why when I texted earlier and said I love you, you replied back with ‘k, chat later’? “Oh darlin’ I was just really busy. There isn’t an excuse for that. I promise you I will never miss the opportunity to tell you I love you again.” 

Tears streamed down your face again, you felt ashamed and guilty for feeling like you did. “I’m sorry Jensen, I just can’t believe someone like you would really want someone like me. I know you love me. Guess I have a lot to work on.” 

“God I wish I was there with you right now. I’d wrap my arms around you and never let you go. Kiss those soft lips of yours, down your neck, leaving love bites to your beautiful breasts.” 

You smirked and bit your lip, then giggled when you saw him adjust his pants. “Jens, are you trying to have phone sex with me?” 

“Maybe, is it working?” He winked at the camera. 

You let your shirt fall forward a bit, exposing the upper part of your breast and a little of your nipple, “Maybe”.

About 20 minutes later the two of you were panting and coming down from your release. 

“Jens, that was hot.” “Yeah it was, baby. Now I’m really sorry I missed this last night.” Your flushed cheeks getting darker as you giggled. 

“I wish I was there with you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, especially with those flushed cheeks.”

There was a knock on his door that pulled his attention for a second, “Mr. Ackles, you’re needed on set in 5.” “Okay, thanks Joe.” He turned his attention back towards you, “Duty calls, darlin’, but I’m not done with you yet. I’ll call you as soon as I’m free and we’re going to do this again. I love you, baby.” 

You smiled, “I can’t wait, babe, and Jensen, I’m sorry.” “Shh, baby, it’s okay this is all new territory for the both of us. We will get through it. I love you so much, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you too, Jensen. Have a great time on set and I’ll talk to you later.” “Bye darlin’, have a great day.” He blew a kiss before he hung up. 

You sat on the bed smiling, knowing there were things you two needed to work out, but you also knew Jensen really did love you, wanted you, and wanted to be with only you.

As you got up your phone went off with an Instagram notification. It was a post from Jensen.

There was a picture of a silhouette of a man and a woman, holding onto each other. He captioned it with, “The feeling of being completely in love with another person is one of the best feelings in the world. When you find your person you know. Everything feels right, easy. No matter what you two face, you can always find a common ground. I love you, darlin’. Now and forever more.” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You sent him a text.

You: I love you too, now and forever more.

Jensen: 🥰 😘 I’m glad you saw that.

Tags are open, let me know if you want to be tagged.

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@peachhiz 

[odestasocean]

some random odesta headcanons

annie is the handy one in this relationship. there's a table that needs to be assembled? piece of cake. a collection of tools under the kitchen sink? those belong to her. a picture that needs to be hung? she's already got a hammer in her hand.

when finnick was super young his dad taught him how to make the famous cinnamon pancake recipe that has been in their family for generations which became his absolute favorite thing to make for literally any occasion or just a random sunday morning

not a day has passed since annie was fourteen where she hasn't been wearing black nail polish

shortly after finnick won his games, mags knitted him this blue and gold sweater that had a very intricate pattern on it, but since he was fifteen at the time, he quickly grew out of it. years later, annie found it towards the bottom of his dresser drawer and it became her favorite clothing item to wear

annie has long wavy hair that gets suuuper poofy whenever it’s humid or if she goes to bed with it wet

annie gets chronic migraines so finnick has discovered every remedy under the sun to help her but her favorite one and the one that has proven to be most effective is scalp massages

they're both insanely tall. im talking like finnick is 6'6 and annie is 6'0. i won't be taking any criticism on this one.

annie is a horsegirl. i don't even know if horses are in district four, but if they are, she's obsessed with them. she saw one of the wealthier district four citizens riding one on the beach when she was like five years old and her life was permanently changed after that.

they're both the youngest sibling in their families. annie has two older sisters and finnick has an older brother (i have an analysis about this that i've been working on in my drafts so more on that later)

finnick is the most clumsy human ever up until his son is born so then that title is passed down to him (heavily inspired by that one clip of sam claflin falling over because he tripped over a rock in cf which was left in the movie)

they're both morning people but finnick's more of a let's-stay-in-bed-until-noon type of morning person while annie is a let's-go-make-breakfast-and-watch-the-sunrise type of morning person

annie has the weirdest pregnancy cravings, but finnick insists on trying them all with her. she's mortified by how willing he is to eat the strangest things like sardines dipped in mustard or something so she's always like "oh my god you do not have to eat that just because i'm craving it" but he does every single time

in a finnicklives!au, they have a second wedding on the beach outside of victor's cove where it's just the two of them. they loved their wedding in district thirteen and all that it stood for, but having one with just the two of them felt like an official beginning to starting their lives together after the war was over

[a-aexotic]

AAAA I LOVE THE HUNGER GAMES !! could u write either peeta or finnick during catching fire they are going oht of their way to protect you and make sure your okay (if peeta that katniss isn’t there u take her place for the story)

happy new year 😚😚

—cw: unedited, established relationships in both, general thg stuff, mentions of SA & prostitution, death

—a/n: HEY SO ik you requested a fic but i thought i could both (finnick & peeta) in headcanons!!!!!! I HOPE THATS OKAY PLS LMK 😭 also this was sooo much longer than excepted i got carried away with finnick’s! HAPPY NEW YWAR TOO!

FINNICK O’DAIR

we obviously know that finnick would go above and beyond to protect the people he loves and cares about

but there’s only a few people he cares about—you, annie & mags

you were three years younger than him, winning the hunger games at just 14 years old (like him) and you had come from district 4

you had volunteered for your younger sister in the games, like katniss would for prim later

people in the capitol found you just as, if not more, charming than finnick because of what you did for your sweet baby sister

they ate the whole thing up, crying at the beautiful gesture because they knew a little girl like you couldn’t win

but you did! it took everything in you, everything you stood for, and your morals to win

and it broke you as it did with any of the other victors

you thought it would have been all over after that but of course not

because you were so loved at the capitol, snow decided to make some profit out of it

he decided to sell your body in exchange for your family’s safety

and that is how you met finnick and became friends

he was 17 when he met you and he took you under his wing, protecting you from everything and everyone

but he knew he could only protect you from so much

when he had turned 18 he knew he had to leave you to do all those terrible things alone but he had to

you guys bonded over similar traumas and soon, you fell in love

when the quarter quell had been announced, you knew it wasn’t fair

and no matter what, you were going to volunteer for annie or mags because you knew neither could make it

annie was too fragile mentally and mags was too old, you were the only who was still strong physically and somewhat mentally

and finnick knew that was exactly what you were planning on doing but he knew he couldn’t stop you

at this point in time, finnick wasn’t wary of the rebellion so he thought he was going to have to choose between himself and y/n; and for him, it wasn’t much of a choice

he swore he would protect you, and when the time came he would kill himself so you could make it home

now you were thinking the opposite; you would pull exactly what katniss and peeta did, and if that didn’t work they might as well just die like romeo and juliet and that would cause an uproar at the capitol

when annie had been picked, you were the first to raise your hand, grabbing mags’ arm stop her

there were tears in both their eyes, looking at you with admiration, terror and slight relief

you had hugged them both tightly, knowing it was possibly the last time you’d feel their embraces

you looked over at finnick, tears brimming both of your eyes and you walked over at each other and brought your hands together, raising them up in union

when you had made it to the capitol, plutarch and haymitch had told you the plan and you immediately accepted, relief seen in both your expressions

when entering the training room, you wanted to work on your skills because you were a bit rusty, leaving all the violence back at the arena

you knew that this hunger games wasn’t gonna be like your last, it much more difficult like plutarch said

katniss always admired you, doing what you had done for your sister

she had related to you ever since she had came back from her hunger games; you were her idol

but after meeting finnick she realized that it may have been a ploy to win over some sponsors

after talking to haymitch, he told her the truth; that she was simply being shallow because you were the kindest person he had ever met

so when you were working on your bow skills, katniss had walked in

she realized you were struggling and decided to help you

you didn’t exchange much words but katniss realized what haymitch had said was true

and she had picked you for one of her allies

when the quarter quell had begun, you quickly sprinted to find finnick and when you did, you found him with katniss, then peeta

you were a pretty strong person, just as strong as finnick but he still had the urge to protect you

from the moment he laid eyes on you, he wanted to take you out of harms way and he didn’t know why until one day you had mentioned it; you had reminded him of himself when he was younger

before you, he had never felt real comfort after the hunger games because of your similarities and bonds that wouldn’t ever break

so even though you were very capable, he still protected you and made sure you were okay at all times

you and katniss bonded as well and him and peeta did

towards the end of the games, you had injured your lower leg very badly and you couldn’t walk

he couldn’t leave you because he knew that it was almost over

you had begged him to just leave, that you were just deadweight and neither him or katniss would budge

so he carried you on his back, right until the end of the games

also gale dies instead 🙄

PEETA MELLARK

basically you were katniss up until catching fire

you guys started dating after the hunger games, bonding over what had happened

when the quarter quell was announced you were heartbroken

you blamed yourself and only yourself because of it

you knew this time, you and peeta couldn’t get out of this one so easily

and you decided that peeta deserved to live and if it came to it, you would die for him

but peeta was thinking the exact same thing

you had a family to live for, you had friends to live for, you had a life to live for

and what did peeta have? nothing but you

he was prepared to take his own life for your own, in a heartbeat

now with katniss, peeta was definitely not as protective because she was more independent

but with you, he was way more protective

of course you were still a baddie like katniss but peeta felt more of a protective nature over you

he hated seeing you hurt whether it was physical or mental

peeta thought of ways to possibly stop the quarter quell, so he pulled the pregnancy stunt on caesar’s show

he couldn’t imagine his life without you, his life wouldn’t be his without you

that didn’t work as we know

in the quarter quell, he refused to leave your side

he also preferred to be in front of you even after you tried to argue that you would be better up front

when you guys slept, he would always lay his head on top of your so he could feel if you got up

he would be ready to kill anyone and everyone for you, in any moment

he hated the idea that the one of you had to die and he tried. it to think about it

the whole time during the games he just thought about ways to get you guys both out but he realized he couldn’t

when you ended up shooting the force field with your arrow and the whole thing went down, he was there

and he was saved with you because mocking jay peeta was scary & he didn’t deserve it 😭

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get jealous of jacks cast mate, when in reality you have nothing to worry about

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader is kinda self conscious? a little angst turned to fluff :)

based off this request: Reader thinks jack likes one of his other coworkers (or him and r could be childhood friends) but he acc likes her idk from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: hope you enjoy!! jack is SUCH a loverboy

jacks radiant laugh echoed from your computer screen, which made you pause the video and start sulking. 

you were currently watching an interview over his new romance movie, and god did it make you feel envious.

while his heavenly giggle usually made you grin from ear to ear, this time it made you frown, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

you were upset because he was laughing at his cast mate, annie. annie played his love interest in the movie, and you could tell she liked him. and judging by the way he was looking at her in the video, you thought he liked her back.

she was gorgeous, and talented, and really funny too. everything you thought you weren’t. 

and the real gut punch is you have no right to be jealous. jack and you weren’t dating, but were only childhood friends. you told eachother everything, and spent countless of hours hanging out.

although, there was one thing you didn’t mention to him. you were helplessly in love with him. your crush developed when you were 13, and it never stopped growing. 

you felt like your heart had been stomped on and crumpled up after watching the interview.

it made you feel worse when you realized you were being to much of a “jealous girlfriend” to someone you weren’t even dating. 

tears couldn’t help but fall as you scrolled through the comments. 

user37638- jack and annie DEFINITELY have something going on 👀

jackslover- wait are him and the blond girl dating?!??

anniesfan4lifeeee- jack and annie would lowkey make such a cute couple omg?!?

you started to feel worse as you realized that maybe he was happy. maybe he did really like her, and you needed to support him. ruining fourteen years of friendship over some stupid feelings is crazy. right?

that was until you hear the front door to your apartment opening. oh shit. jack was supposed to come over at 12! why is he here so early?!? 

you checked the time, only to find out that you had spent the whole day sobbing in your, now very messy, bed. you didn’t have time to react before jack was entering your room.

he immediately noticed your tears and went up to you. you stood up out of bed, still wearing your pajamas. well the oversized shirt you had on was his, but whatever.

jack brought you in to a warm embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. after some time, he let go to face you.

he used his thumb to wipe off your tears, looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“y/n what happened? you know i hate seeing you like this. do i need to fight someone for you?” jack asks, trying lightening the mood a little.

you smiled, and he took that as his own personal victory.

“its nothing jack. anyways, how was filming in greece?” you say, trying your best to plaster on a happy face and skip over the topic. it didn’t work. god dammit jack, why are you so caring?!?

“it’s not nothing. y/n tell me, please.” jack looks at you with those adorable brown eyes and you know you have to tell him. even if you don’t want to, its best for jack to know.

“if i tell you this, you have to pinky promise this wont ruin anything.” you say, sticking your finger out. he locks pinkies with you, and you both kiss your thumb, signifying that the promise will be kept. jack then waits patiently for you to continue.

“i like you. more than a friendly way. I’ve felt this way since we were thirteen. if you dont like me back, that fine i guess! or if you like annie I totally understand and i think you would make a cute couple-“ 

jack cuts you off quickly after hearing the last sentence. 

“i dont want annie. i want you.” 

you look up at him shocked, your mouth slightly open. you notice him looking at your lips, and you get the hint. you close the gap, and place your plump lips on his. 

its was like your lips were puzzle pieces, because of how perfectly they fit together. all of your envy washed away at the heavenly sensation. 

you both pulled away from the passionate kiss, your lips coated in a mixture of you and jacks spit. you make eye contact with him, and smile. you could finally call him yours. 

[moonspirit]

Do you think Levi hates Annie?

Hello anon!

Haha tho, no, Levi doesn't hate Annie. I don't think Levi hates anybody really. (Zeke is another can of worms, let's not go there rn)

First off, what I understand about Levi is that he's a deeply empathetic person. He holds a LOT of compassion and places a lot of value on human life (e.g: he isn't happy to learn that titans were all once humans). At the same time, Levi is someone who recognises that sometimes, it's necessary to make choices that can be violent and ruthless (one e.g: him torturing Sannes; he doesn't enjoy it but it came to that and had to be done). These are two personality traits that can actually coexist.

Coming to Annie. Much of the animosity towards her back when S1 aired was because 1. We didn't know everything about her, and 2. She killed Levi's elite Squad in a particularly violent fashion. She did kill Levi's Squad, and he was enraged, this much is painfully clear, I think. There's no denying he was furious seeing the talented people he worked with all dead in seconds.

But while I believe Levi is an emotional person who takes the deaths of his comrades very seriously, he is faaaaaarr from being vengeful. Remorse, regret, sorrow, and despair, these are things he feels, yes, but irrationally? just for the sake of being angry? No.

When we see the RBA "attacking" Paradis and trying to kidnap Eren multiple times, we (the audience) don't see them as children - we see them as young adults committing unspeakable acts of violence against an innocent population (this is exacerbated by the fact that Reiner is older than the others).

But they are mere KIDS to Levi, who's much older. He isn't stupid. He sees these kids, turning into titans and trying to kill them, and wonders why. Why are these children acting this way?

Also, try to look at it like this and see if it makes sense to you: Once the Scouts reached the basement and discovered the truth of the world, learned of the Eldian race, the Titan powers, Marley's existence, of Liberio within it, of the Warrior programme and how those human war weapons are all just children of 8 and 9 and 10, brainwashed with propaganda and bred to be nothing but tools and monsters - they understood. The Scouts understood before anybody else did, that the world was unfair on both sides of the wall.

Levi too, understood. He watched Annie kill his squad, and he understood at some point in time during the 4 year timeskip, that she was a child when she did what she did, and she had no choice but to do it.

While Levi doesn't express his emotions well, he doesn't dislike someone for the sake of disliking. He's blunt, he's foul mouthed, he's brutally honest and says what's on his mind... But him not openly talking to someone or showing care for them does not mean he hates them.

In fact none of the Warriors wanted to do any of the things they did, they committed those irreversible acts of murder and violence simply because they wanted to go back home. And maybe Paradis was the first place where they experienced some kind of friendship and equality, but it was still the target of their mission, a place they couldn't stay in. They still wanted to go back home to Liberio, back to the people they called family.

Annie, to the family she called her father.

A person as compassionate as Levi doesn't hate Annie, because he knows she did what she had to do when she was just a guilt-ridden teenage kid, even if that came at the cost of losing his friends.

Tell me also: Who in the Alliance hasn't lost their loved ones at the hands of another?

Around that fire with Hange, they've all killed someone dear to the other.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Tall Drink Of Water

Does my little dance for @turbulentscrawl

Rated Mature | Warning: None

You have the same amount of energy Luca Balsa has, and many more given how you laid out on the floor rolling around playing with Ann's cat (you do not care if it is an Outer God that took the simple form of a cat to oversee whatever an Outer God oversees). The cat is playing with a ball of yarn you got from Annie in exchange for helping her with a toy project. The cat actually is playing with you rather than you playing with it, Alva a few times glances over to see being the one is playing with the yarn more than the cat.

Your logic for not fearing the cat is ‘I don’t worship it so I don’t have to follow its rules’. Neither does Alva yet here is a chosen one of that creature. His eyes linger on the way your shirt by now has ridden up exposing your stomach and dangerously close to the rest of your chest before you sit up and start petting the cat. 

It permits it the petting, the dotting upon, you have no idea you are worshipping it by doing that and Alva could not tell you otherwise given the cat is purring. When it has enough, it places its paw on your hand pushing it away then jumping on a chair and curling up in a ball to rest.

“I want five more babies, Alva.” Without context and him not paying attention you say those words.

“Excuse me?” Stopped his hands with his current task to make sure he heard you properly.

“Five more babies,” Pointing at the sleeping cat, “We can have different types too.” You bet Ann would agree but you might have to watch out for Ithaqua because you have seen him fearlessly chase the black cat. Weirdo.

The inventor needs a moment to recover, “I am sure the Apostle would not appreciate sharing your attention.” Resuming the final touches of the device he making.

You go to sit on the couch in the room then lay on it as you stare up at the ceiling before your eyes drift to other objects in the room before falling on the ass of the Hermit. Small, you can grab it and feel a bit of meat, a bubble butt. Your eyes follow the way his back is bent over slightly as he works over the workbench tinkering away.

“Alva,” You call out to him, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?” “You do and I never grow tired of it.” He replies, “You are quite handsome too, (Name).” Sometimes sparks to life in his hand for a second then shuts off. “Yeah but,” You think for a moment then grin, “You’re a tall drink of water, baby.” Yeah, this is a good one! “And I’m thirsty.” Snickering. Both a funny and a compliment, genius.

Alva has learned to grow accustomed to your time of humor and language. Given you are from a different modern time, you are far different from the people of his time in every sense. He raises an eyebrow then shakes his head, “Given you also know how ridiculous that sounds,” He stops his task as he can feel his neck becoming strained and the statement you made is a hint. “(Name).” Turning around, “Come here a moment.” His index finger beckons you over where he is leaning against his workbench. 

It is cute how quickly you get up to go over to him and without skipping a beat you hug him, one who enjoys physical touching. A tactile person. He places his hand on your head petting your hair as you rest your chin on his chest with your eyes closed and a small content smile on your face, “I love you.” The words flow out easily from your mouth as you say them a dozen times with ease, you follow those words with action as you are happy to kiss his hand that traces your lips, his palm, then your eyes open halfway as you once again say, “I love you, Alva.”

“Do you need me?” A low sensual tone as you whine as his other hand starts at the lower part of your back, fingers tracing up your spine and the low-grade spark up your back makes you moan as he uses his power to stimulate your nerves. Strange as it sounds you found it gets you going a lot faster as he is directly stimulating your nerves and skin.

“My answer is always,” Though at times you feel bad given you have a much higher sex drive than the inventor. He is much lower, rarely does the mood strike him, but tries to be accommodating to your needs when he can keep with them.

Though you understand he is in the mood, it is understandable, you make it very clear to him that you never take more than what he can give. You are one to talk freely about your needs and listen to others about theirs, you had sat him down to ask what he needs from you and vice-versa.

“Are you sure? I have no problem using your shirt.” Asking to make sure he would not mind doing it right now, you can always wait for when he is ready. He got the hint you want to be intimate by your silly pickup line, something you do to hint but easy for him to know he can take his time. Plus, you like letting him know how handsome he is daily.

When you handle your own desires alone, you need something of his to keep on that edge, his shirt helps a lot.

God, you feel like you got it down bad for him— Because you are.

So bad that you ask him, sometimes, if he is comfortable with recording a ‘visual aid’.

A request and one he needed an explanation of. One you provided when he was sexually ready and you were the one teasing him. So you recorded yourself, well, let’s just say the man had a reminder of how different you both are from a technology standpoint too.

The recording on your phone plays back a video of you touching yourself as you call out his name. One of his spare shirts drapes over your body as you are a humping pillow. You are no pornstar but you are proud of your camera work!

You learned that day teasing Alva was returned tenfold and you were unable to return to your room until the afternoon of the following day.

Kissing your forehead, “I want to.”

The grandfather clock in the room strikes midnight and the soft tune of the clock plays.

You stand on the tip of your toes as he kisses you, slowly and methodically until the meow of the forgotten guest steals your attention.

“Pspsps.” Alva is looking annoyed at that damn cat as you slip away to kneel on the floor to pet its sleepy form, “Pretty kitty.”

“There is another kitty in need of proper attention if it returns to my side.”

You turn your head to see Alva Lorenz walking to his bed and sitting there patting his lap.

The hint in those words is not lost to you at all nor the Outer God cat as growls before standing up, jumping in the air, and disappearing.

“Aw.” You pout, “Do think it will come back later?”

“Let’s hope not,” He welcomes you into his arms as you straddle his lap, “Your attention is going to be elsewhere for a while.” His index finger traced the path of your jawline, his lips brushing against yours but not quite, no he let that tingle of electricity make it feel like he kissed you but you were not letting that slide as you grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and lean forward kissing him and pushing him down.

[ughgoaway]

Oh my god yes! Imagine she doesn't even show him, just let's him find it when he's undressing her. He's kissing up her leg and over her thigh then all of a sudden it catches his eye

🎄

this is SO GOOD, and it's similar to what i was thinking, but I'll let you all know my first thoughts!!

(18+ brief non-proofread smutty thoughts below the cut)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

see my exact thinking was you getting it before a big awards show, maybe the brits or even the Grammy's. you keep it a secret from matty, of course.

you knew they'd win. They always do. so you had a master plan for when they inevitably did, and mattys ego started to grow 10x the size. he always got cocky after a win, and you've lost count of the amount of award shows you'd been dragged away to fuck in the nearest empty room.

so when you hear that announcer say "and the winner is.... the 1975!" And Matty's hands are in your hair and his lips on yours within seconds, you knew everything was going just as you had expected.

they go up, matty does his speech, thanks you and annie as always. but when he comes back down, his hand is gripping the skin of your thigh so tight you wouldn't be shocked if it bruised.

as soon as the awards take a little break, you're being dragged away to a bathroom. matty's lips are on yours the second the door clicks shut behind you. his thigh is pressed between your legs, and you start grinding down without a second thought.

his hands are all over you, gripping and pulling. his mouth working furiously against yours, both your lips pink from the pressure. he's already pulling at the hem of your dress, "fuck get that pretty dress off for me baby. let's celebrate my win, yeah? wanna fuck you with my tongue until you're fucking crying. want everyone to hear what a slut you are for me"

you push him away and rest on the sink, pulling your dress over your head and letting it fall on the floor below. You try not to think too much about the fact your £3000 dress is currently on the dirty bathroom floor, which is quite easy when you meet Matty's eyes and see them tracing your body.

your dress was a backless number, so you went bra-less, much to matty's enjoyment. so his eyes linger on your tits for a minute, and before he can cast them down further, you're pulling him in by his tie and wrapping your legs around him.

Once his lips are on yours again, you grab his hand and bring it to your tattoo. matty thinks you want him to pull your panties off, so he tries to grip the fabric. when you pull his hands off the fabric, he's confused, humming against your lips. but when he lets you drag his finger around those 4 lines, he knows exactly what he's feeling.

the speed at which he rips away from you is like lightning. dropping between your thighs without a second thought with wide eyes. his jaw slack as he stares at the box, tracing it over and over again with his pointer finger.

"fucking hell, you been hiding this from me, sweetheart?" matty whispers, letting his hot breath brush over your skin and smirking as he watches the goosebumps erupt in his wake.

"wanted to get it as a congratulations present for your award, you like it?" you tease, rubbing the bottom half of your leg up and down his back, ever so slightly pulling him closer to the tattoo.

"what if we didn't win? you gonna get it lasered off?" he teases, pressing kisses around the thin black lines. you can't help but gasp at the feeling of his hot lips against your skin.

"mmmn knew you would win. even if you didn't, you still own me just the same, " you whisper breathily, throwing your head back as matty starts pulling your panties down with his teeth.

anyway, you can guess what happens next. basically, matty eating you out and going on and on about your new ink.

"my girl. I fucking own you. branded yourself with me, huh? right by your needy cunt. or is it mine now, hmm? because that's who it really belongs to, doesn't it? its my pretty pussy to use whenever I want"

anyway... very fucking filthy <3