#sorry sorry bulk this got way longer than i was expecting

[mississpissi]

im asking you to explain :mic: abby and her dad go

ok this all started w bulks post about “abby” meaning “father’s joy” and it got me thinking about the contrast between cecil’s relationship with his mom versus the relationship i imagine between abby and her dad. fair warning that this mostly exists in my head but u bet ur burger im still gonna try to back up my ideas w quotes from the text (AP lit and lang babey).

first of all, looking at cecil’s relationship with his mom is super important. one of the first things we hear about her is that she used to hide from cecil for days and that she covered all the mirrors in their house (33). she also tells cecil to “beware, be warned, be wary”, which she apparently says to everything and cecil interprets to mean that she’s proud of him. we also hear in “Homecoming” (55) that cecil looks forward to seeing his mom every year at the homecoming game and was disappointed when he wasn’t able to. in “It Sticks With You” (182), we learn their mother would take them into the woods and walk quickly, cecil saying, “I think she wanted to lose us in the shadowy labyrinth of tall trees.” she would leave flowers at the base of the same old tree every time. she would ignore cecil’s questions. in “Bedtime Story” (132), which im convinced is about cecil (but that’s another post), cecil says “he just wanted his mother to show interest in his curiosity.” and even if that story isn’t about him, it is a story his mother would tell him at night, one he never heard the end of. in the traffic section of “Pioneer Days” (143), cecil tells a story of a boy left behind, abandoned by his family, left with nothing but a snake. im also fairly certain this is about him (cecil loves to tell his own story without ever really telling it). 

most revealing is what cecil says in “Ghost Stories” about his mother and her death. we learn their mother left when cecil was 14 (whatever that means), that cecil “thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Or out for a walk. Or just hiding.” He says, “And Mom flew away, when all other defenses failed her.” we learn she returned many years later, sick and old and “sorry”. we learn that she died soon after in a way that was “mundane”, that cecil was at work when it happened. we learn that cecil mourned her passing.

all of this paints a picture of a relationship that was strained, full of pain, downright abusive. and we see cecil, as he does so often, retrofit this pain to be something more palatable. she was hiding because she was proud. she didn’t speak to him because she was focused on something else. her defenses had failed her. she was struggling with alcoholism and mental illness. she was playing a game. she covered the mirrors because of pride. she came back! her death was inevitable. he misses her. he grieves her. he loved her. she might have loved him. he makes excuses for her because to do anything else would be to admit that he had experienced immense pain- to re-experience this immense pain. better to change the story.

now abby. 

we don’t know nearly as much about abby as i wish we did. we know she “approach[es] life with a total practicality,” that she will save her pain for when she is in private (It Devours!). steve says, “With Abby around, I can't imagine a bad thing that could happen" (89). we know her relationship with cecil has been tumultuous, that she leaned on cecil and then on steve as she raised janice. in “Bedtime Story”, the sister in the story fought with her brother, telling him she hated him. “she would wrestle him to the ground and pull his hair.” after the boy is buried in the ground, the sister often visits the tree he becomes. she plants flowers, removes beatles from his bark, reads in his shade, plucks his fruit. she visits with a man and a child, visits with joy and with tears in turn. this sister, this abby mourns her brother and tries to protect him, fights with him, loves him. 

and, again, in “Ghost Stories”, we learn that abby was “reserved and controlling”, that she dropped out of college when their mom left to raise cecil, that she blamed him (that cecil blamed her for not being their mom). we learn that abby was there when their mother died, that her death prompted cecil and abby to reconcile their differences. we learn that cecil and abby are both haunted by their family. 

here’s where i diverge from what we really have. 

we haven’t really heard from abby. everything we know of her we’ve learned from cecil and steve. but i have to imagine she resented their mother, that she hardly wanted to drop her plans for her future to raise her younger brother.  i hardly have to imagine what it’s like to have that kind of responsibility thrust upon you when all you wanted was to live your own life. i have to imagine watching your mother die, your mother who just reentered your life after years of neglect, would hurt, would be complicated, would cut deep.

i imagine mr. and mrs. palmer bringing home their first born child, naming her “Abby”, naming her “father’s joy”, naming her after the pride that swelled in her father’s chest. i imagine mr. and mrs. palmer doing their best to raise their daughter in a town as hostile as night vale. i imagine them wanting a sibling for their daughter, someone to keep her company when they couldn’t. i imagine abby struggling with the idea for a moment, then embracing her brother wholeheartedly. i imagine mrs. palmer naming their son “Cecil”, naming him “blind”, naming him after the future she saw.

i imagine abby, her father’s joy, watching as he brought his son to “work in the pasture” with him (132). watching as her brother was injured by his curiosity, watching as her father avoided him in his anger. watching her mother hide from her brother. i imagine abby realizing she would have to be the one to patch him up, even while both parents were still home. i imagine abby hearing her father promise that he “would give [his] life for [his son]”, hearing him say her brother could never be a doctor because “he feared for the boy's future patients”. i imagine her wanting her father to offer his life for her, to invite her to the pasture. i imagine her becoming more reserved over time, realizing her brother needed more help and attention, willing to step into the background because she loved him, because she wanted to be strong for her family. i imagine her doing everything she could to live up to her name, to be someone worthy of the joy of her father.

i imagine abby, her father’s joy, watching him leave. maybe she knew why, maybe she was simply left. i imagine abby watching her mother slowly fall into paranoia and fear because of her brother, because of what she had seen. i imagine abby following her mother into the woods, placing flowers on the trunk of a tree she recognizes, trying to keep cecil distracted by playing a game with him. i imagine abby making sure cecil got to school, got food when their mother was hiding from him. i imagine abby finding out her mother too had left, left her with now full time responsibility for cecil. i imagine abby becoming controlling because she had to, because she had lost control over so many other aspects of her life. i imagine abby channeling what she could remember of her father, trying to be strong, reliable- ignoring that he had stopped being that very suddenly. i imagine abby yelling at a teenage cecil, telling herself that it was better than ignoring him like they had. i imagine abby finding out she was to become a mother, a mother without a father, a mother to a daughter who had more needs than she could handle on her own. i imagine abby finding a man who wanted to help, who could provide a stability cecil was unable to, for all his enthusiasm. i imagine abby, kicking her drunk brother she had raised out of her wedding, not willing to look him in the face for years without seeing her father, seeing her mother, seeing ghosts.

and i imagine abby listening to her brother describe their father on live radio. i imagine her cleaning up after the dinner steve made, hearing about a man with a “thin mouth… [and] threatening, beckoning eyes” (192). hearing about a man, their father, her father, going into the forest with a shovel, digging himself out of the ground. i wonder if she put the pieces together retroactively or if she’d had them all along. i imagine her waiting for the shower to cry. i imagine her hearing that cecil received a photograph of their father (201, 219). i wonder if she went to see it, if she was able to, if she even wanted to see it. i wonder if she listened in, checking that her brother was taking care of her daughter, only to hear that her father, the man who’s joy she had once been, was actually talking to cecil (224). i wonder if she wondered why he was reaching out to cecil and not her. i wonder if she called cecil after, or if she knew he meant it when he said, “I refuse to look into it further.” i wonder if she hopes that when cecil is made to remember their father, she gets to as well. i wonder how long she was her father’s joy, and how long she spent grieving whatever changed that.

most of all, i wonder if WE’RE EVER GONNA GET TO HEAR ABBY’S FUCKING VOICE!!

[pazziville]

Can I Be Him — A Pazzi Fic

Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConn’s prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball star’s confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi.  Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latter’s self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware. With the next season around the corner and Paige’s newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?

CHAPTER 1.

word count: 1,523

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Paige knows this feeling all too well by now. The feeling of her heart being squeezed a million times over as she attends practice to try and get her mind off a certain girl but then having to witness the girl talk to and play with the guy she’s head over heels for on the other half of the court. It’s not even an official team workout day and yet Azzi went to workout with her and decided to invite her crush. Isn’t this just great. Paige thought. “Still at it, Paigey?” Nika enters the gym with a coffee and juice on hand, per Paige’s request when she texted the girl to come save her from suffering alone at the eye sore she was having to face. Azzi and her company, Parker, notices Nika’s arrival and give her a welcoming wave before resuming what they were previously doing. Nika gives them a wave back and proceeds to join Paige in her practice run. Nika notices Paige was completely locked in, not even aware of the fact she had already arrived, causing her to block Paige’s mid-range shot attempt to get her attention. “Sorry.” Paige couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed at what Nika did. She realized she spaced out in her thoughts and brought her arms down from shooting motion weakly. “King of the Court to get your mind off her?” Nika proposes to which Paige agrees, not even protesting. She’s quite literally willing to try anything to get her mind off of Azzi at this point.

“Who’s winning?” Parker asks Azzi, who was currently hyper focused on the King of the Court game Paige and Nika was having. Azzi didn’t answer, eyes still intensely on the game, making Parker repeat himself, “Azzi, who do you think is winning?”

The girl snaps out from her trance, “Sorry, I got a little too focused there.” Azzi takes a sip of water before she gives her answer, “Nika, probably.” “You think so?” Parker gives her a questionable look as Nika was currently down by 8.

Azzi plays with her arm, a mannerism she developed throughout the years when talking about things that she cared about and that affected her, “Paige has a soft spot for Nika. From that alone, she’s already won.”

“Oh.” Parker could only utter. Silence overruled the two of them as they sat on the bleachers and Azzi’s mind realized the bulk of what she just said. “I meant… Since Paige has a soft spot for Nika, she has the chance to use that to her advantage and catch Paige off guard and win it.” Azzi squeezed her arm, not entirely sure she was being truthful to herself.

The game went on longer than expected, Azzi’s prediction being somewhat right. Nika catching up to Paige’s score because the girl undoubtedly had a soft spot for her close friend and teammate. Not until Paige’s last possession. Nika watches as the girl does her lazy crossovers, anticipating that the girl was going to do a step back three, a move Paige loved doing during pickup games. But much to Nika’s surprise, Paige does the anticipated explosive crossover before ultimately driving to the basket. A move that caused Nika to fall hard from the unexpected contact.

Azzi, seeing this, stands up as she grows concerned for her teammate who was currently on the ground, clearly in pain. She was about to approach Nika until Paige steps in her peripheral vision, lowering herself to Nika’s level and checking up on the girl, which causes her to freeze. Suddenly, Azzi feels a pang in her chest. 

“Is Nika alright?” Parker asks, but as usual, gets ignored by Azzi, who was too occupied in watching Paige and Nika on the court. Paige went from asking Nika if she was alright, to touching the girl's knee, which got scratched from the impact to the floor after Paige charged at her. 

Azzi was smart. Hell, her professors, parents, friends, and classmates would never fail to mention this fact to her, because she truly was, academically and generally. But what she said after seeing how Paige cared for Nika right after her fall was a long shot of being smart. 

“Care enough to not be reckless and stupid before the season, Paige?” Paige stops in her tracks. Establishing eye contact with Azzi who was within a distance from her, caught off guard with what the girl told her.

The eye contact with Paige was enough for Azzi’s mind to backtrack, knowing what came out of her mouth went below the belt. “I-I’m sorry.” “No, it’s alright. You’re right. I’m sorry Nika, I should’ve been more careful.” Paige guiltily admits her fault, making Azzi more guilty in the process.

“Dumbass, shit happens, it’s alright. Now carry my ass to the clinic, this knee is kinda killing me right now.” Paige breaks her eye contact with Azzi to offer her shoulders for Nika as support to get her up.

Seeing the two girls’ backs as they walked out of the door together with Nika’s arm on Paige’s shoulder and Paige’s hand around Nika’s waist shouldn’t have affected Azzi the way it did. But, it did. The sheer physical contact Paige and Azzi shared bothered her. Yet, the girl convinced herself it was out of concern for Nika. It was a week before the new season. The team could not afford an injured player. Most especially not a player as valuable to the team as Nika. She offered elite defense the team needed and above average offense the team could use when the squad’s scorers such as Paige and herself were benched.

It’s definitely because of those reasons. Nothing more. Azzi talked herself out of what she was feeling. A feeling so seemingly foreign to her. Or so she thought.

“Not gonna talk about what happened back there?” Nika asks Paige, who has been sitting on the clinic chair with her eyes completely glued to the white walls and not uttering a single word for the last 10 minutes, clearly still affected by Azzi’s words.

The question was enough for Paige to look Nika in the eyes instead of the walls, “There’s nothing to talk about. She was right.” Nika plops down from her seat, making the nurse and Paige flinch at her sudden movement, “Girl, she called you reckless and stupid all in one sentence. Are you really just gonna let that slide without communicating the fact you were hurt by that?” Paige sighs, knowing Nika has a point, but is too much of a coward to confront Azzi. Not when her romantic feelings for the girl were involved.

Silence engulfs the room. Nika, disappointed, shakes her alongside a deep sigh and sits back on the chair she previously sat on which delighted the nurse, “Do that again and I’m going to tie you up to this clinic chair.”

Nika nervously laughs, “Sorry, Nicole.” The nurse quickly gives her a daggered stare for the first name basis.

Nika clears her throat and straightens her posture, “I meant, Nurse Nicole.”

Paige laughed at the altercation and had seemed to forget what went down minutes ago. But of course the universe had different plans for the girl. As she was enjoying the small talk the nurse was having with her and Nika, the clinic door suddenly opened, revealing a concerned looking Azzi.

The girl spared Paige a look but nothing more before fully entering the room, her attention fully fixated on Nika and her current condition, even talking to the nurse for her evaluations.

Paige silently observed Azzi from her seat, not being able to stop her chest from hurting. Azzi had more care for Nika than she’ll ever have for me. She managed to convince herself. As the conversation went on, Paige felt out of place, feeling as if she no longer needed to stay.

She got up from her seat, prepared to leave, “Paige, where are you going?” Nika asks, stopping her from her tracks. There was a part of her that wished that question came from Azzi. But how dare she wish that, Azzi would never care enough to ask. She thought.

“I’m gonna get back to practice… If that’s alright with you guys.” Azzi had her back facing Paige, yet the girl could not get to not include her in the conversation of excusing herself out the room.

“No problem, sweetheart. We’re almost done here anyway. Your girls will follow suit soon enough.” Nurse Nicole sweetly assured Paige, earning a soft smile from the girl.

Paige slowly makes her way to the door. She looks back, only to be met once again with the view of Azzi’s back. Nika sees this and realizes, deciding to smile at the girl to cheer her up a bit. It works as Paige leaves the room with a smile. Not a genuine one but it was better than not smiling at all.

Paige can’t help but chuckle at herself as she grabbed a ball from the rack to start working on her game. This may just be the extent of her and Azzi’s relationship.

a/n: suggestions and feedback are greatly appreciated. this is my first time uploading a piece of work to tumblr, so please bare with me. would you guys want me to post this story on wattpad and ao3 as well? thought of doing so for easy accessibility purposes since i don't think tumblr has bookmarks or something alike. thank you very much for reading! much love. <3

[moonlight-tmd]

Blitzbee

Pre-relationship, but crushing hard.

During a battle, they get stuck in a cave together.

i aM SO SORRY- i went on hiatus with tumblr post and completely forgot about the inbox! i will alnswer every single ask i have in there, dw-

For this one, I actually had a similar idea, perhaps even better than the original prompt.

So, imagine this; some mission involving a cave system happens and Lugnut does his thing and causes a cave in. Bee and Blitz were too busy taunt-teasing one another to pay attention to the evacuation screams. They got locked in and had to cease fighting for the time being.

The entrance wasn't very far but there was a lot of rubble in the way and scattered in the cavern, dust was still floating in the air and the two were talking. It was a moment that Bee noticed he was feeling odd, Blitzwing wasn't doing any better. Somethign was up with the air here....

They tried to shut their ventilation systems but it didn't work for long, the cavern itself was pretty warm and the fighting earlier left them running hot. Everything was starting to get blurry, speaking was beginning to be sloppy... but their worry quickly faded and they just sat there looking at one another- ever since Bee saw Blitzwing he developed a tiny bit of a crush on him. Blitz was big and strong, his frame proved to be quite attractive as odd as it was. Bee was accustomed to the human culture and its quirks, so hearing Blitzwing adapt the german accent to his speech was a cherry on top.

But it wasn't only Bee who felt like that; Blitzwing had more than needed fights with Bee and never one of them was the same as teh last one. Bee was fast and agile, his fast reaction and critical thinking alongside the sharp glossa have proven to give a challange to Blitz. The minibot himself wasn't bad-looking, he was quite cute actually and had that mischevious charm to him. Blitzwing found himself looking forward to encountering Bee whenever he was out.

Bee didn't know he slipped and started speaking, only after Blitzwing replied with a similar compliment he realized they were having a conversation. Nonetheless he continues saying how he likes Blitzwing, his manners and frame. Only for Blitzwing to return the adoration with the same if not bigger affection.

They were starting to feel more dizzy and the feeling inside bloomed the longer they heard one another speak their love. Blitz picked Bee up and place him on his lap for cuddles and they went on with their confessions...

Meanwhile Team Prime has been busy desperately clearing up the entrance. Turns out the gas condensed within few of he chambers near the cave system have chemichal composition similar to cybertronian drugs- the chambers have opened when Lugnut caused the cave in and began to spill outside thru the cracks. They only found that out when Bulkhead who worked in the front started swaying and collapsed halfway into the clearing, Optimus and Prowl had to wear masks and shut their vents to work while Ratchet took care of Bulk some distance away.

Eventually they dug thru to the large cave chamber, the dust was thick but htey could still hear things shuffling around. They feared Bee might have gotten seriously injured or even killed as they looked around and saw a giant figure somewhere in the back. They heard a voice- no, two voices as they neared...

But they didn't find what they were expecting to find. If fact, it was quite the opposite.

Blitzwing was sitting on the ground, holding Bee close while the scout snuggled in and murmured sweet nothings to him. At some point the two must have noticed the other two's presence and Blitz growled at them.

Bee said something nearly incoherent and instead showered Blitz with affection. They just stood there watching as Bee blabbered words of love and showered his inky face with kisses. Blitz only purred and made little trilling noises, eventually moving his face so the glossa that's been hanging out of his intake for primus knows how long dragged itself across Bee's face in a form of a big lick-kiss. It was then the Bee grabbed his helm and started making out with him.

Optimus and Prowl stepped in just in time to pull the two away from one another. It wasn't much trouble cuffing Blitz and both were dragged out of the cave. Thankfully Bulkhead was almost good to drive when the 4 came out.

Blitzwing had been completely disarmed by the gas and his ability to speak was reduced to whines, growls and other animalistic sounds. Bee one the other hand- he was still somewhat comprehensible and would not shut up about adoring Blitzwing. While Blitz was left nearby the cave cuffed for hte other cons to find him, Bee was blabbering about how much he loves Blitz and how sweet, gentle and attractive he is and so on. He was completely drunk on love even after returning to base. His drugged love blabbering were turning into lust blabbering- Optimus had to hold him down while Ratchet plugged the cables to initiate the forced stasis protocol... Let's just say, the comment Bee made thinking it was Blitzwing holding him down made Op a little more than awkward.

When Bee finally came back to his senses he was having a hard time staying online- it was all so dizzy and he couldn't get anything down his throat, the head ache that literally spilled to the rest of his frame was not helping. Once he was mostly back to normal he asked what has happened. All of them seemed to not wanna tell him... well, all of them except Ratchet, who for all he knew told him how insufferable he's been with his drug-induced love for Blitzwing... and if that wasn't bad enough apparently they were kissing in that cave, from that Op told him... Yup, it was time to die.

Jokes aside, he felt so incredibly embarrased. Him- kissing Blitzwing?? The Enemy?!? Part of him refused to believe it was real, there was just no way. He didn't even remember what happened after they entered the cave!

But then the same night it all- well, most of it, returned to him. He saw the flashbacks and heard the words of love coming out of Blitzwing's derma. Him caressing Bee so gently and lovingly... When Bee woke up he couldn't have been more of a blushing mess.

And so was Blitzwing apparently, Lugnut found him a little more over 24h cuffed at the cave, he was somewhat conscious but still incomprehensible in speech, only mumbling something about a "hummel" while ocassionally giggling a little. Lugnut took him back to base, reported the situation to Megatron and left Blitz uncuffed in his own room. Blitzwing woke up with a headache and some nausea but was still forced to work, even if it meant data and monitor duty. His other personalities were arguing over his frame status until the flashes of the previous day slowly flooded back to him. He was just sitting there frozen and flustered as frag as he recalled what he did- what Bumblebee did. What they both did!

...Megatron decided to send him off to get better in his room seeing how slow and unefficient he was being at the work station. That certainly added to the sheer embarrasment and intrusive thoughts when he was left all alone in his nook in the mine. What stuck to him in particular were the love confessions that the minibot whispered to him when they were back there... did Bee really mean that? How long has he been hiding his feeelings? Did he know Blitzwing liked him back? All the questions were buzzing in his mind and not a single answer arose... at least until he bumped into said minibot on one of his patrols.

ever since the cave accident they both seemed to avoid one another, that however didn't last long as they quite literally walked into one another while hanging around one of the parks further away from the city at twilight.

It was so fragging awkward- both of them didn't know what to say- IF they should say anything but none of them wanted the other to leave without getting answers... For once, Bee took the logical approach to the situation. He managed to explain what happened in that cave and that the actions that ensued were effect of the drug-gas.

For a moment it seemed like Blitzwing was disappointed for the answer... Bee thought they would leave it at that, but then Blitz brought up what Bee said in that cave and that he liked him. It... wow.

Bee system literaly froze when Blitz said that, it took an awful bit of time to unfreeze it but when he did he was a stuttering blushy mess. It was hard to form a proper sentence but from what snippets of phrases he said Blitzwing managed to hear he liked him back.

It didn't take long at all for random to pop out and pick up Bee to spin around and hug tightly and also maybe leave kisses on his helm. Yep, Bee was definitely gonna faint if Blitz didn't stop when he did.

So i guess, this is yet another way to start their romance added to the collection. Idk what's with the stuck somewhere while drugged scenarios, they just work. Hope you had fun reading and sorry again for the delay!

[mythosidhesdollhouse]

Rainbow High Littles: Indigo Bailey, Pt. 2

Hey folks, sorry it took longer than expected to get this posted (health complications, not serious just time consuming), but as promised here is the continuation of my RH Littles review (Pt.1 is here). Still feeling a bit drained from *stuff* so I'm going to keep this one fairly short and to the point...right after Krystal Jr. has finished banishing that slime daemon back to its own dimension...

...And now with that out of the way--Hair talk! (sorry for the lack of banter in this one, I'm too tired to script dialog today)

I've already seen one review claiming at least some of the Littles have polypropylene hair. Based on my examination of Indigo's braids, in her case at least I do not believe this assessment to be correct. In my opinion the evidence points to her rather having lower grade nylon hair (as referenced in @dollsahoy's excellent video on the problems with using polypropylene as a doll hair fiber). In this post we're going to take a look at how I came to this conclusion, with the help of some Shadow High girls with similarly textured hair.

First let's compare Indigo's braids to our purple QUEEN, Monique. Now, imo Monique is the gold standard for microbraids on a doll, not just just for RH/MGA but across the board. The majority of her braids are very fine, shiny, smooth to the touch, and made up of straids of multiple colors woven together. They hang quite straight, and have a nice weight to them. I say the majority because mixed into the base of multicolor braids there are a few monochrome blue and purple strands, which differ in weight and texture to the rest, being courser and slightly bulkier.

An initial side by side comparison shows that Indigo's braids look quite different than Monique's. They are mainly a solid periwinkle/lavender shade, with some strands incorporating a second, more magenta-leaning color mixed in. They feel lighter, and don't sit neatly around her head, though I attribute this at least in part to her rather chaotic rooting pattern. In texture and appearance they have more in common with Monique's blue and purple highlight strands than the bulk of her hair. Taking all this into account, I think it's safe to say these two do not share the same hair fiber.

But now let's take a look at our other braid ambassador, Pinkie. When I first got this doll I was immediately struck by how different her hair was, in both appearance and texture, from Monique's. It's both courser and duller in texture, has less complexity to the color blend (I see only two, extremely similar shades of pink), and doesn't appear to have the same weight to the fiber necessary to lie straight like Monique's does. Additionally, given their slightly crunchy feel and fact that they remain creased from her packaging months after I unboxed her, I suspect the only reason her braids lie as flat as they do is that some amount of product was added to her hair to keep them in place.

And when we compare Pinkie's braids to Indigo...this looks like a much closer match! Leaving aside the difference in color and length, the braids on these dolls look, feel, and behave in virtually identical ways. Taking everything I've observed from these comparisons into account, I feel comfortable with the conclusion that Pinkie's and Indigo's braids were made from the same fiber.

But here's the thing....MONIQUE AND PINKIE BOTH HAVE NYLON HAIR. I have never seen a single indication that a mainline Rainbow or Shadow High doll has had anything else. It might not all be the same quality of nylon, but it's nylon all the same. Just for good measure I grabbed a Skultimate Secrets MH doll (which very definitely has poly) and they don't feel the same. They just don't.

Aside from some speculation (completely unsubstantiated) that the Swim & Style budget dolls have polypropylene hair, it's never been in question that MGA has used anything other than nylon on this line, and it seems vaguely nonsensical to me to imply that they would start now. Sure I could be wrong--obviously if MGA makes an official statement confirming they've switched to poly I'll eat my words--but the detail and care that went into the design of Indigo's clothing tells me they are still trying to make a good quality product. While the target demographic and aesthetic of the brand may have changed since the soft reboot began earlier this year, I see absolutely no evidence that these are badly made dolls. Adult collectors may not like them, and yes it's a hard shift from the exemplary attention to detail we got used to when the focus of the brand was on older collectors, but that's not the same thing as them being objectively poor in quality. They're just different. It happens.

SO YEAH. That concludes my thoughts on Rainbow High Littles. I think they're fine for what they are. I like the one I got. I have no plans to buy more, but if they release other characters down the line, who knows? I for one am ready to move on from this 'controversy' and redirect my attention to other dolls I'm actually looking forward to.

[bellybiologist]

September 2024 Patreon Announcements

September rolls around (again)! This month is notable because it's been a bit more than a year since I started streaming again. Time keeps on flying, for better and worse. :V

After the usual announcements, I can go into more detail about How Things Are Going at the end for those who are interested!

=====

September's Poll will be up Shortly! The winning theme is "Crop Tops," and I will go into detail on the poll post.

The Next Sequence has been Decided. It is a David (from Lilo and Stitch) Stuffing sequence! I will attempt to find time to at least start it this month.

Commissions are still Open! Comms are still a bulk of my monthly income, so i'm still accepting submissions, even if you're already on the list! I understand the wait time is long, but all commissioners are free to add to, adjust, or change orders they've already made at any time! Just contact me to discuss it. A new Reward Request Post will be going up! Patrons are free to leave one in there even if you already have one from last month's! July's requests will have expired though! So if those haven't been drawn, you will need to re-suggest them. August's will expire when October rolls around. See this document to see whats on the list, what expired, and what has been done!

===== As always, thanks for the support!

Those are the normal announcements! The following is not particularly important and more just info on how things are going.

=====

I've managed to get all the appliances that needed replacing replaced, (ie. the fridge), but I still got a few months left on the bigger dental bills. The final payments for those are in november, after which, I can focus on paying off the credit card bills that have been piling up, and possibly to have some savings at some point. Others will be done in January, so it'll be a good while before I'm free from those. :V

All patreon fills were made free back in May, and I'm pleased that decision didn't reduce patreon income by a huge amount (roughly 100 bucks monthly, which was in reasonable expectations). It's much easier on me, having a less strict deadline, while giving me less to do in regards to making pieces available and whatnot.

I'm enjoying streaming, and really appreciate those who are keeping me company. Ya'll have been great support~, which has been great at keeping me working more consistently.  As for commissions progress... I'm roughly halfway down the list! Which, honestly, is not saying a whole lot when the list must get longer every month by necessity. We're getting close to passing the 1 year waiting time for some people, which im very sorry for, but I'm still doing my best to keep a steady pace! I'm shooting for 3-4 commissions completed a month. Thanks to everyone whose been patient and supportive.

That said, my aunt is still job hunting. We're hoping she'll have meaningful employment by this month. Not 100% sure about how this month will go, but i guess we'll have to see! I'll have to pick up more slack if things dont go our way. Still no news from the landlord, so im just assuming they are satisfied with our work so far with the apartment.

And that's about it! Thanks for reading if you did!

[crystalelemental]

Alright.  Using the datamined information regarding High Score event, we’re going to look at options based on the examples given, because holy hell I cannot follow these number.  I’m calculating it the same way and it outright does not lead to the same results listed.

The ultimate goal is 180,000 points for the event, or 36,000 points per stage.

Each Water type used is a 1.0x multiplier, up to 3x the points of a stage.  This is factored in at the end, but I’ll try to start with only one (1) water type, assuming that many will not attempt to fully off-type, and will aim to use Water as a support.

STRENGTH Strength values are unusual, but here are the cutoffs I’ll try looking at:

100 strength = 5000

200 strength = 9000

250 strength = 10,500

Anything above 200 is diminishing returns, really.  So I don’t think many will go past 200, but 250 is a likely cutoff for people who need a bit more.

Based on this, we get the following bonuses to stats:

100 strength

Boss: +7000 HP, +1000 offenses, +50 defenses, +50 speed

Sides: +3000 HP, +1000 offense, +50 defenses, +100 speed

200 strength

Boss: +14,000HP, +2000 offenses, +100 defenses, +100 speed

Sides: +6000 HP, +2000 offenses, +100 defenses, +200 speed

250 strength

Boss: +17,500 HP, +2500 offenses, +125 defenses, +125 speed

Sides: +7500 HP, +2500 offenses, +125 defenses, +250 speed

Starting statistics for each fight are approximately:

Boss: 6000HP, 500 offenses, 60 defenses, 50 speed

Sides: 2000 HP, 400 offenses, 60 defenses, 100 speed

I realize these mean nothing to people, but for comparison, Latias has about 1200 offenses, so 1000 strength puts them hitting about Latias’s damage, while +200 hits about as strong as Azelf.  Bulk of most legendary arena fights is about 70 to start with, so expect less damage per hit.  Cresselia has around 127 defense in its first phase, for comparison of where you’ll be at around +100 strength.  Bulk is a big deal.  Meanwhile HP totals are all far lower, considering most have around 30,000 HP, more than even 250 strength bosses.

TIME Time maximizes at 3000 points, or one minute or faster.  This feels borderline impossible, so the scale as listed is approximately:

10:00 or longer: 0 points

8:20: 150 points base

5:00: 900 points base

1:40: 2400 points base

1:00: 3000 points base

This gets into the incredibly chaotic formula.  You basically take the value of the score you passed and the time you passed, and the score you didn’t quite meet with the time you didn’t quite meet, and plug that into a chaos formula that results in a score at every possible value.  I am not doing that much work.  Most people will score between 1:40 and 5:00, so I’ll do three comparisons, get an approximate score there, and see if we can extrapolate that to a “points per second” within that interval.

Okay, no I can’t.  I can’t get the numbers absol-utely got, even following his exact formula.  None of it makes a fucking lick of sense, but his example calculations suggest about 8 points per second.  God, fuck this calculation.

STAT BOOSTS Stat boosts maximizes at 3000 points, for 135 buffs in total.  30 buffs is 375 points, so...okay frankly, looking at this, it’s gotta scale higher the closer you get, it’s not as simple as a flat number increase per buff.  To point:

ATTACKS (HITS) It’s hits.  Anyway, it maximizes at 3000 points, for 50 hits.  Multi-hits and AoE count for more than one hit.  Ten hits or fewer is 0 points.  Apparently, 15 points is like 385.  So it does not scale point for point.  You’d need 35 more hits to get full 3000, but exact scaling of “five hits is 385″ actually puts you at 3080 points.  So man, I don’t fucking know anymore.

ADDITIONAL PARAMETERS You get 1000 points for Main Characters, and for each application of Confuse on a foe.

CALCULATING TOTAL The way absol-utely lists examples, assuming this is correct, has a total of 3135 points.  2250 for having a time of 2:00, 500 points for 35 buffs, and 385 points for 15 attacks.

...no sorry, my understanding broke down again, because he lists “Seven main characters,” which is impossible.  Apparently this is calculating for the entire event?  Which is so weird, because these points should be per clear, right?  So what the fuck is that aspect doing being for the whole event?  Goddammit these numbers make no sense.

Fuck it.  We’re going to assume 1 main character in a match, and do each calculation for each thing my own damn way, using those calcs above.  So if we have 3135 for the three conditions, 1000 for a main character, and the strength value applied, we get:

100 strength:5000 + 1000 + 3135 = 9135 points

200 strength: 9000 + 1000 + 3135 = 13,135 points

250 strength: 10,500 + 1000 + 3135 = 14,635 points

This is at a baseline, with one water and one main character.  A second Water doubles those point values.  A third triples them.  So assuming these general point standards, a full team of Water at triple points?  You make max needed score with just 200 strength.

But assuming you don’t want to do that, you’d need to make up an absurd amount of points.  Like, so many it’s actually bullshit.  36,000 points per stage means even at 250 strength, we’re off by 21,365 points.  So unless you’re hitting 21 hits of confuse in the same two goddamn minutes, you’re not clearing that bar.  Even teams of nothing but Main Character wouldn’t achieve that much.  A second Water type per clear feels very, very much mandatory off of this.

Unless there’s something I’m missing, the broad takeaway here is, you need two Water types per team minimum.  Even with a good time score, the rest just feels so hysterically bad that it’s not worth it.  Then again, looking at the overall score total, there is another solution.

Maximize hits and buffs.  Even with one Water type, if you have, let’s say, H!Caitlin and Roxanne as supports, and you just completely drop time as a factor and aim for multi-hit moves and AoE spam, you could feasibly hit those highest benchmarks, for 6000 points.  And at that value...yeah, you see where this is going.  Approximate points for each strength level now are 12,000/16,000/17,500.  Which is still way, way off.

I was hoping to come into this with good news.  I was hoping to come into this with some kind of grand realization, like maybe you can make something like Mallow or NY!Dawn with the AoE confusion counting 3 times per application getting you somewhere.  But you’re dancing around all of the power the opponent is throwing around, which at 200 strength is above the typical legendary arena, with bulk far exceeding what is typical.  This...doesn’t feel like it’s going to go well.  And there’s no stall safety net, because you need direct hits, direct buffs, and time factors in too.  I have to be missing something.  There’s no way it’s this bad, but in all the datamined information, I...cannot at all find anything to suggest otherwise.

[echo-of-sounds]

feel comfortable with me

-Toshi x f!reader-

This is for the Secret Santa event we did over in my server! I got @beealexageek! The prompts I used were smut, comfort, intimacy, and your first bath together. This turned out to be a much longer piece than I first thought, but I do like where it turned out. And I hope you like it, Alex! <3

A chime sounded. Toshinori sent a text: I’m on my way home. Do you need me to stop at the store for anything?

No. Just hurry home. I miss you. You added a couple of emojis, then put your phone aside.

Amber and cedar circled the bathroom, full, warm, yet not overbearing. You sat the candle jars on the sink top and shelves, away from any possible splashing. Bar soap and loofahs rested beside the large bathtub.

As it filled with water, you sipped your wine and placed things out for after your bath: fresh, fluffy towels hung nearby, body butter waited on the bed that was made up with new sheets and silk pajamas that put a dent in your wallet, but you paid it eagerly, wanting the finest for Toshi.

He needed it after everything. His exhaustive Hero career and now his consuming teaching job took the bulk of his time and energy, and the latter was rapidly wearing him down. It left little time for himself and your relationship, particularly the more physical parts.

You’ve had sex a few times. You’ve seen each other naked more than that, not by much but by a smidge. It took both of you a while to be ready for it. Now, it was taking you a bit to adjust to being naked around him, sometimes feeling the need to cover your less attractive parts. And you surely didn’t expect him to adjust quickly or easily, either. Wounds permanently flawed his body. Smaller scars and blemishes littered his limbs. He tried so hard to hide, shielding himself or turning to the side when he was topless, shying away from your wandering hands and grazing lips whenever you were intimate.

He had a lot to work through, and you were proud of how far you’ve come together. And tonight, you wanted him to feel comfortable, safe, and relaxed: physically and mentally. You bought soy candles for lofty ambiance, an organic bubble bath for his overworked skin, and played sensual jazz lounge music to block out the world. It turned his bathroom and bedroom into a perfect little haven.

You hurried back to the tub and shut the water off. With that all set, you changed into a robe and finished your glass of wine. You didn’t need to go overboard with it — just needed an itsy-bitsy boost to your confidence.

Keys jingled from the other side of the door as you were putting the bottle away. You turned to see Toshi’s heavy brow and low shoulders. You greeted him softly, “Hey.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he replied just as quietly, if not wearily. He removed his jacket and shoes and asked, “How was your day?”

“Uneventful. Yours?”

“About the same.”

He faced away from you, huffing and swearing something under his breath while he fiddled with his briefcase. You tiptoed over and called his name. Carefully and cautiously, you stroked his biceps and whispered, hoping the answer wasn’t negative, “Anything stressful happen? Or was it just long?”

“Just long.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” You had to really stretch to reach his neck for a light kiss. Feeling along his front, your hand drifted to the bag, taking it from his ready-to-release hold.

His body turned towards yours, letting you cup his jaw and bring him down for a firm kiss. A sigh entered your mouth. You took the sign of weariness and untied his tie, dropping it to the table. The top buttons of his shirt were next, exposing his beautiful clavicles and prominent tendons. It called for you to open more, to kiss his sternum, to stroke his sides and stomach and thighs, to love all of him.

But you resisted. That could wait. You unlatched his belt, smiling at his waist swaying forward as you pulled it out of its loops.

“Thank you,” he chuckled.

“No problem.” You pecked his left collarbone, able to taste warmth and salt in the fleeting touch.

Blue flicked down. Pink colored his cheeks. Presumably noting your slacked robe, his lips parted and the grip on your sides tightened. He sighed your name. You brought him close again, pushing your scarcely-covered chest against his, kissing his jaw, muttering love and sympathy between each one.

A throaty grunt came. Hands began to wander over your hips, moving the robe around. He pulled away just a centimeter to ask, “Is that-” You reconnected, matching his light moan. “-music?”

“Mhmm.” You slurred into his mouth, “Time for a bath.”

Reluctantly, you broke the kiss to lead him towards the bathroom, restraining yourself from skipping with excitement.

“A bath? I don’t remem- What is this?” He questioned the new bedsheets and pajamas. His brow raised higher once you opened the bathroom door, letting out steam, scents, and subtle music.

“It’s for you. A surprise.” You cheerfully pulled him the rest of the way into the bathroom, grinning at his cute confusion.

“It certainly is a surprise.” He leaned down and tested the tub’s water, flinching a little at the heat. “What’s it all for?”

“For you, Toshi.”

“And what did I do to deserve this?”

“Nothing in particular. I wanted to try something different to help your body and, um… to help you. Us.”

He stood up. The endearing look morphed into one more solemn.

“I want you to feel comfortable, and I thought this could be helpful… for that.”

On queue, his hand moved to his side, hiding the scar despite the clothes he wore. Now that he was here, standing tall, almost scared, your words were failing. Thoughts weren’t coming out eloquently. This was much easier in your head where everything played out perfectly and sexily.

However, just because the plan you laid out wasn’t starting the best, you couldn’t let it fail. You wanted him to feel loved and attractive and handsome and worthy of your attention and needed him to know that his physical defects didn’t make any of those things impossible.

He opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, words flung out, “I want you to know how much I care about you and appreciate you. I know you have complicated feelings about your, uh…” Concerned eyes waited with a small but charming smile. You sucked in and tried to speak the thoughts evenly, “Your body is your body, Toshi. It isn’t wrong or broken or bad, and… I know you’ve gone through so much and you’re struggling with things, but I just want to see… I want to see you, Toshi, all of you, without any hiding or lights off, and I thought a bath together would help… If you want to, of course.”

The music prevented a horrible silence from falling. You took some deep breaths. He didn’t need to see you distraught at what was supposed to be an auspicious moment. His eyes wandered around the room, looking at all the things you set out for tonight.

What if he just wasn’t ready? That’d be okay. You’d never push him past his limits and into doing this if he wasn’t ready for it. You’d go at whatever pace he needed.

Amid your self-soothing and fidgeting, you almost missed his croak: “Thank you.”

“Oh… I, uh, yeah…” No. Say more. Don’t act a fool. “I mean, are you actually okay with all this, Toshi?”

“Yes.”

The strength and confidence stunned you a bit. It seemed to shock him too, since he blinked a few times and cleared his throat, regaining himself.

Toshi reached for your waist after. Lanky arms surrounded you snuggly. His hands wandered over your back. Your name sounded so delicate, so enamored when it dripped from his lips. “I’m positive. I appreciate your patience thus far. Not many are always so understanding. This relationship is the first I’ve had in a while, and I want it to last.”

“I want it to, too.”

He kissed your temple, still petting your body, rousing it with squeezes and kneadings. “No one’s done something like this for me, and I want to try to help us, too.”

You nuzzled into his chest, taking in the lingering cologne. With his willingness, his clothes were the last barriers to bearing his body and insecurities.

“Where do we start?”

“With this.” You withdrew from the hug, grabbing the next button on his shirt, taking your time the closer you got to the source of his anxiety. Dark red tendrils peaked out from the left side. You didn’t open it fully yet, choosing to finish unbuttoning it entirely, and then you gingerly slid the shirt off his shoulders, watching his expressions as it fell.

Shoulders knotted. Arms jumped as if to hide himself, but they returned to his sides. Bones and tendons jutted out, drawing skin taut. Defined muscles covered most of his body. Unlike gym rats though, his were because of illness and scrawny stature. It didn’t make him any less attractive.

Whatever he said jumbled. Yet you had an inkling of what it was given his extending blush and avoidance of eye contact.

“You really are gorgeous, Toshi.” Your fingers flowed down his biceps to his hands. The scar tissue didn’t detract from it. It took away his left nipple and marred so much of his side. Its lines thickened and deepened towards the center, where its color turned into some red and purple mix. Delicately, you placed your palm against the old trauma, remembering seeing it for the time, remembering how scared he was to finally show it to you.

Your wrist was grabbed. It wasn’t hard, just… concerned.

“I mean it, Toshi.” You met his eyes hidden under laden brows. “Nothing about you isn’t. I promise.”

“Thank you… for all this.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Toshi. Really. I just wanted you to feel better.” Air caught in your tightening windpipe. Blue eyes, brighter than the average person’s, stared, not moving a flick. You couldn’t look away from them. You panted, somehow out of breath without moving, “I want you to feel safe with me because I… I… I really care about you.”

He leaned down, nudging his forehead against yours. “I really care about you, too.”

An unspoken word hung between you, both wanting to say it but scared to be the first. Yet, it didn’t need to be said. If you felt it — believed it — then that was more than enough, especially for tonight.

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.”

“I think the same,” you mouthed through the growing fever, fluttering lower and fuller and sultrier.

“Maybe that means we’re good for each other.”

You copied his small laugh and kissed him. The sound of his pants falling came right before his fingers drifted under your robe, slipping it from your shoulders. He removed the sash next. Cold hands pushed it open and off, getting to feel along your skin.

You kissed his jaw and mumbled, “Let us get into the bath.”

He slid his boxers off and stepped inside, taking his time to lower into the hot water. You happily followed suit. Before you could even begin to take care of him, he asked, “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. This is all for you.” You settled behind him and found a comfy position. “Let’s do your hair first.”

He listened, giving in to your care and letting you move him around as needed while you wet his hair. The roots were a bit difficult to get at. You had to use your fingers and brush through the clumping, frizzled locks.

Shampoo was easy to work with. It sunk into his hair and dripped suds over both your bodies. You dabbed any that landed on his face away, not wanting it in his eyes. And your scrubbing turned into massaging, loving his sighs and groans as you thoroughly kneaded his scalp and washed the shampoo out.

Neither of you talked much. The music and physical contact were more than enough for the time being, relaxing in the water's warmth and each other’s bodies, especially as you glided soap across his back. The muscles remained lax with trust. Hands occasionally drifted to your legs, stroking along with you. If you kissed his neck, faintly sucking on the tendons, it’d make them squeeze back.

Keeping up your kissing to his shoulders, your hand trailed to his stomach, washing warm, neglected skin, grazing over his burgeoning erection. His breath hitched, building while the soap coasted over his sides and thighs.

But you didn’t touch him. You grabbed the loofah and repeated the course, laving over every spot. His head dropped to your shoulder, sighing away tension that had latched onto his muscles. Bent knees poked out of the water. His legs were wide open, giving you access to his body as you pleased.

Seeing him so open aroused you more than you cared to admit. He was happy, jovial even, smiling while letting you see his body in full. And the clearing shame helped you do the same, putting aside insecurities you had about whether or not your stomach wasn’t pretty or skin not clear enough.

You didn’t want to rush the bath and hurry into the bedroom. However, at a particularly guttural call of your name, it sounded like he was thinking the same thing.

You kissed his temple, purring his name back, and washed the soap off of him. The hands on your calves reached higher to your thighs, circling them with no trouble. Fingertips gripped. Your hips jerked haphazardly.

Something squeaked and splashed. Toshi’s baritone-rich voice purred, “Let’s dry off. The tub isn’t the best for this.”

Unable to stop the grin, you nodded, standing up quickly with him. His mouth immediately found yours, not leaving as you both stepped out of the water. He kept a steadying hold on your waist, leading you blindly towards the door.

You snatched a towel to pat his torso dry, struggling to do so between your chest pressed together. He eventually took it. Eager lips pressed to your shoulder, skimming up to your jaw, rerunning along that line as the towel dried your back. It kept you warm and your breasts flush against him.

While he dried himself, you reached low to pump him. His hips swayed with your movement. Ragged breath heated your neck. He wasn’t shying away. He wasn’t hesitating. He was letting you feel his entire body for all that it was.

Toshi guided you to the bed. Your mouths refused to break apart as you crawled backward, finding a simple position once your head hit the pillow. He laid to your side, cradling you close, caressing the length of your body.

You directed his hand low. Fingers obeyed, dipping below your waist, tracing the waking skin and rousing your mind. Your thighs fanned open to welcome him. And he gave, nurturing the full-fledged desire, sweeping over your clit beautifully.

You swore into his mouth. His left to kiss down your jaw and you hummed, “Toshi. Quickly.”

He gave again. Two fingers slipped inside, just as easy as the first time you were together. Except this time, they wasted no time and pushed up, stirring your hips to join the movement.

“Oh, fuck. Toshi.” You looked at his body entwined with yours, rocking together. “You’re so beautiful.”

His words heated your neck. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“I mean it. You’re so handsome.” You held his cheeks, repositioning him for a kiss. The fingers stiffened in their actions, pressing harder and higher. You gasped, receiving his tongue and clinking against his teeth.

His lips followed yours when you relaxed into the pillows, keeping you connected in a messy, discombobulated kiss. Between his fingers and tongue inside you, you couldn’t voice any more compliments, leaving you moaning and humping his hand.

Needing just a little more, you inched a finger under his palm, rashly rubbing yourself. Swears were swallowed by him. Groans were reciprocated. All it took was him heaving your name, filling your mouth with lust, and sending you over the edge, leaking wetness to the bed and his name from your throat over and over again.

Only when your thighs went lax did he remove his fingers. Arousal dripped and clung to them even as he separated his fingers. The sight riled you plenty despite the orgasm, not sure if you’ve ever seen yourself that stimulated.

Toshi’s cheeks were painted over with a potent blush, spreading to his ears and shoulders. You tilted his jaw and kissed him. It resumed at the same intensity it left off at with tongues and saliva and plenty of moans. The wet hand returned to your side. His hips slipped between your thighs, nudging his erection against you, spurring you to rock with him, grinding and pawing at each other.

He wasn’t repositioning your hands when you felt his scar, or changing positions so you wouldn’t see it, or avoiding your eyes and kisses. He was allowing you to caress his entire body, feel every flaw with the same amount of love you’d show the perfect parts.

“Hold on,” he droned and leaned over, rummaging through the bedside drawers.

The absent body left your chest open for a chill. Needing the heat, you felt his sides and lifted off the bed, kissing his neck. A strong pulse beat under your lips. You sucked, lighter than a bite, but harder than usual. He jerked against you, and you ground back, feeling your arousal rubbing back into you.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned your name, gripping your hip nearly too hard. Just hearing him swear was enough to provoke moans.

But the grinding and pawing stopped. He sat back on his knees, fumbling with the condom’s wrapper. His cock bobbed between his legs, trilling precum to the brand new sheets.

At least they were getting a nice christening.

With it finally free, Toshi hastily worked the condom on before dropping back to you, holding himself up on his elbows. Lips covered yours immediately. Tongue was next, washing in and out, opposite of yours. You reached between yourselves, finding and giving him a few slow pumps. His hips waved with the movements, clearly wanting something to thrust into.

Granting him the something wanted, you lined him up, and he, like always, gradually pushed in, fully aware of his size and the possible discomfort it could cause. But unlike other times, you didn’t need him to wait so you could adjust. You didn’t know if it was the mood, the long build-up, the feelings, the heat, or the excitement pooling and spreading ecstatically, but he kept sinking — sinking until his balls flattened to you and he groaned through his teeth.

You gasped and panted, surprised with yourself and the depth. Your nails ran along his back while you two laid still, just mixing your breaths together and kissing.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh. I’s’great.”

You both laughed at your garbled words. Kisses lined your jaw. Carefully, delicately, he withdrew a slight amount only to push back in with the same prudence, repeating the action a couple more times.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re so warm.” Lips brushed over your cheek, muttering flattery and devotion the whole way.

“Toshi,” you purred, hips softly swaying with his. Candlelight highlighted his tan skin, giving him a soft glow, not unlike an angel. No scar or blemish would ruin that picture. Flashes of his handsome smile and bright eyes interrupted the warm, saccharine shades.

His forearms rested on either side of your head. You held them, getting tiny shocks on your palms and fingertips, only moving your hips with this. It was jolting just how reactive your skin was being: lips drew moans, simple touches brought gasps, and chest to chest and thighs against thighs created a constant motion of breathless, whirring humping.

“So beautiful.”

His nose tapped yours, getting you to look up at him for a fierce kiss, pushing your head into the pillow. Weight behind the thrusts increased, mildly bouncing your breasts. Their speed remained the same, sedated and measured, kindling expectation and relief when the sink came, bottoming him out.

One tender finger found your clit, thumbing in rhythm with his hips. It was still sensitive and fragile from your orgasm, but fuck, feeling him balls-deep, stretching you to your max just so he could fit, as he fondled your clit, tongued your mouth, all while hardly thrusting was just going to encourage another one.

“You’re so- Fuck-” You moaned at a rather hard thrust, hearing his balls slap against you. Your head dropped back, leaving your neck open for his lips and tongue. Breasts pressed to his chest. You panted his name, bending your knees and spreading your thighs as wide as possible, needing all his depth with every slow, moonstruck stroke, depressing him directly onto your clit. Your spine arched, needing to get closer to him. Muscles tensed. Fingers dug into your legs.

“Toshi, I-” Your sentence faltered again. The wet kisses on your neck didn’t help.

You had hoped to last longer, make it some hour-long lovemaking session out of a romance novel, but you couldn’t. And his deepening, needful grunts sounded like he couldn’t either.

“Just a little…” That wasn’t going to happen either. His thrusts dwindled to bucking, keeping him fully seated inside while you humped, loving the friction on your clit.

His arms slid under your back, grabbing your ass and securing you snug against him, rutting until the pressure and satisfaction peaked. You clawed at his back and wrapped your legs around him, openly moaning your heightened enjoyment.

Dry mouths and tongues flourished with each other. You stayed locked around him, refusing to let him go despite your body's hyperarousal. You’d deal with it if it meant he got the same pleasure in his orgasm.

Toshi grunted your name into the pillow, bucking then humping then jerking, stiffening as he released, shaking as he calmed. He eventually went lax, laying his weight on you. You kissed the side of his face, kneading the tensing muscles and heaving back, waiting patiently for his breath to return.

Only when it did in full did he move, to your slight regret. You worried he was going to leave completely, maybe put his clothes on. But he didn’t. He tied off the condom and returned to you, accepting your embrace. His heart beat strong under your ear.

“Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I do it because I care about you.” You kissed his forehead. You still needed to use lotion before your skin dried completely. Although, you didn’t really feel like getting up. If you missed it one time, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

A twinge pricking your cheek interrupted the thoughts. You scrunched your lips, moving them left and right.

“What’s the matter?”

“My lips and cheeks hurt.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“Don’t be,” you laughed with him. “It’s a good type of pain.” You kissed him, ignoring the aching muscles and your dry mouth.

[tanaka-ryunosakes-husband]

Can u bless us with some more nsfw bottom tanaka content. My boy doesn’t get enough

Yeasssssssss! Headcannons and hopefully blurbs. But I’m terrible at keeping blurbs short. Send help.

NSFW OBVIOUSLY. Male!reader x Tanaka (could be gn, but I mention a dick on the reader. and a daddy)

Okay so. He has a praise kink. praise him and it’s like he gets like a hundred times more sensitive.

Just

He’s sitting in front of you facing a mirror, between your legs. Just getting into foreplay

“You’re doing so good, baby. I need you to keep breathing for me okay? Gotta relax if we’re going to get anywhere tonight.” He nods back into your chest while still twitching and jerking with all of his muscles flexed.

You ease away from his dick to just rub his muscles out. He whines before shivering and actually relaxing into you. “See? I knew you could do it,” you reach for his dick again with one hand while reaching for lube with the other. “You ready for me to prep you? You gonna be a good boy and stay relaxed?”

“Yes. Yes please. I’ll be so good,” he shudders out. You start to maneuver him onto the bed so the position is better to stretch him out. He lies down easily resting up on the pillows. His legs spread out and back with his feet in the air. He held behind his knees to keep steady.

“Ryū, oh my god you’re so pretty laid out like this. I should put you here more often. Your legs are already out of the way too. I knew you were going to be such a good boy. You always are. My good boy, right?” You’ve only been rubbing up and down the back of his thighs, and he’s panting and whining like you’ve been at it for way longer than the ten or so minutes since he asked for this.

“Yes. Your good boy. Only yours. Please touch me. Or finger me. Do something please. I really need it,” you chuckle before obliging. He was your good boy, after all.

He is so happy and grateful for whatever you give him.

He could cum from sucking your dick and dry humping the bed with his pants on.

He is up to try almost anything if you ask him. Even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it. He is a sub bottom that just want to please you.

He’s a cry baby. He just gets so overwhelmed so easily.

Call him a pretty crier.

He wants to be close to you. As much as possible. Even out of sexual contexts. Touch is his love language and he loves big.

You’ve barely got two fingers pumping inside him and he’s already sobbing. His dick is twitching and purple. Left untouched since he got on the bed. He lets go of his legs without letting them drop very far and reaches for your shoulder. He pulls you as close as you let him.

“I know baby. I know. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Give me a kiss?” He almost head buts you with how quick he does in for the kiss. It’s salty with his tears. His whole face is a mess so the kiss is sloppy. Just as messy and perfect as he is.

“I love you. I love you. I love you so much, just please don’t stop it’s so good. Feels good. So good,” he continues to babble on while you pulled back enough to adjust your hand and add a third finger. It goes in smoother than expected.

“So pretty, just for me…”

he’d be so good for you

you just gotta ask for what you want

so it’s cannon the dude is absolutely shredded. (seriously. skinny jacked? super duper toned but not bulked up. the best body if it’s a “fit”/ athletic body. at least. in my preferences)

imagine him being under you? and all of his muscles are strained and flexed.

hot

He’s got sweat dripping down his face and neck. Just slick and shiny. You’ve been edging him for over an hour, and it’s obvious he’s at his limit.

His muscles go tight as he holds back yet another orgasm. It’s taking all of his strength and control to do so. You haven’t given him the okay, and he isn’t going to disobey you.

“Daddy, please. I need to cum. I can’t do it anymore. please. please. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum,” he asks oh so sweetly. How could you deny your baby boy when he’s been so could for you tonight?

“You need to cum? Wanna cum for daddy?” He nods sharply. “Okay, go ahead. Cum for me. Cum for daddy,” it’s immediate. His body gets even more tense-if it’s possible. His load is falling on his stomach and his body goes slack. Without the cum stopping flowing he twitches and jerks occasionally. You help rub him through it. He’s utterly exhausted.

You pull out before finishing on his stomach too. It’s a pain to clean him up when you’ve cum inside him.

Aftercare is difficult every time. He wants to be held and hold you.

he gets so much needier and clingy than usual. which is already a lot.

But he’s gotta get cleaned up first. sometimes it’s a bath and sometimes it’s warm towels and passing out.

It’s lowkey a fantasy of mine to get a towel warmer so you can have hot towels at the ready. so. you have that here.

get multiple. it’s rude to just have one.

then give him all of the cuddles and fall asleep together.

a big theme has been praise. Praise him! he did so good! let him know!

You reach over to your towel warmer and grab a few. You take your time. Being thorough and gentle are the main priorities. Starting with the cum before sweat and lube. And a final wipe down.

“You did so good for me baby. You getting grounded?” he nods. “ Thank you so much. I always love this time with you. It’s a good escape and one of my favorite ways to relax. You always do so good for me.”

“Thanks for letting me clean you off. It feels good to get the stickiness off of you before we sleep. Thank you baby, you make this so easy on me,” he tries to nuzzle up into your neck and cuddle close, but you have some final things to do before that.

You make sure to turn on the heated blanket and turn off the lights before helping him under the blankets and sheets. He helps you push the duvet off since that’s coated in fluids.

“Thank you baby. You’re always so helpful,” he blushes and a little whine escapes his throat.

“Thank you. That felt really good. You treat me so good.” He’s getting out of the last of his sub headspace, and communicating better now. You give a gently smile at that; pecking the tip of his nose.

He shoves his face into your chest and snuggles as close to your body as possible. You wrap your arms around him. One of his favorite aftercare things is some lazy making out as sleep gradually takes both of you over. He’s always asleep pretty quick.

“Thank you baby. I love you lots.” One final kiss to his head before falling asleep too.

I got a little lazy at the end there. Sorry. uh. yeah. i just didn’t wanna leave you hanging for any longer.

Anyway Masterlist.

[usmsgutterson]

It’s Been A While- Kaz Brekker

I promise, I’m working on the requests y’all have sent! Feel free to send more any time (seriously, I’m awake pretty much all the time! I get three hours a night, and thats being generous) but I just wanted to write a little something for myself, as a treat because I’ve spent the bulk of my time over the last couple of days doing schoolwork and catching up on assignments! 

I’ve been doing online school for the last little bit, and it’s been taking it’s toll on me, so I’m sorry that I’ve not gotten much out over the last few days! I promise, I’ve got a couple of things in line for the weekend and the first couple days of next week to make up for my inactivity!

The reader is a Grisha and related to The Darkling cause I can’t help myself-

Lastly, this is pretty long. I was planning to split it into two parts but then I decided not to, as if I had, the reader would’ve been briefly mentioned in the first. 

Fic Type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of Kaz’s past, mention of blood, mentions of Keramzin, mention of The Darkling

At first, Kaz couldn’t believe it was you. He couldn’t believe he’d seen your face while limping back to The Slat, with Inej running from one rooftop to the next just above him. She’d make her own way back, she said, and that was the way she preferred to do it: running and leaping across rooftops, close to Kaz in case something went awry so that she could be close enough to offer some assistance. 

He couldn’t believe it was you, looking not well, but decent enough, wearing a tunic and trousers, dirt smeared on your face and blood on your chin, tears clear on your cheeks and still brimming at your eyes. In a minute, his brain flooded with memories of Jordie, of Mr. Hertzoon and Saskia, of you, smiling and laughing with him. 

Jordie and Kaz had picked you up on the way to Ketterdam. You were an orphan from a little town called Keramzin, and you’d made it to Lij by being small enough to fit snugly in boats and the trunks of cars. Kaz took pity and Jordies thought process was normally focused in optimism, so they took you along.

You weren’t there when Jordie died. Pekka had nabbed you by then. Kaz knew you didn’t want to go along with them, but at the time, it was better than living a life on the streets and risking contracting The Queens Lady Plague, so he let you go.

He’d not expected to see what he’d seen, though. He thought that you’d be high up in the ranks of the Dime Lions, playing cards and gambling your way through life at The Kaelish Prince.

“Wraith,” his rough voice called. In an instant, Inej was by his side. 

“Get me everything that you can on Y/N L/N,” he said, bringing urgence to his tone. Inej nodded. “I want it done discreetly, and I want the information by midnight. If they’re no longer with the Dime Lions, bring them to me the minute the sun comes up.” 

“Why?”

“They’re a job that I need to get done. Find out why they were walking away from The Slat,” he didn’t have that one down pat, but The Slat was within view and he was looking for a way to connect himself to you again, despite his best efforts and copious amounts of self restraint. 

“See you at midnight, Dirtyhands.”

“Just as well, Wraith.” 

---

Inej had given him all she’d found in the short time he’d allowed to her to snoop, piled neatly and stuffed into a small file. She’d arrived at quarter after midnight, but he wouldn’t chastise her for that. Everyone gets tired and with tiredness comes a lack of the ability to move and still maintain swift and qickness, he supposed.

“There’s not much on them,” Inej said as she dropped the file onto his desk. “They worked for the Dime Lions for a year before Pekka let them to the streets of the Barrel after finding out that they were a direct descendant of The Darkling.” Kaz raised a brow.

“How direct, and do they know?”

“They’re his offspring, surprisingly, and yes, they do.”

“Why haven’t they seeked him out then? Why not go to Ravka?” 

“I don’t know,” Inej quipped. “Everything I do know is in this file. Read it, pour over it. I’ll have Jesper bring them here at sun up, just like you asked.” Inej tapped the file with her pointer finger, turning and beginning the exit out of Kaz’s window. 

“Thank you, Wraith,” he called. He never thanked people, but this was different. You were different.

---

“Kaz,” he never expected to see your face again, and it was safe to say you expected the same. “It’s been about eight years now, has it not?”

“It’s been a while,” he acknowledged. “Let me ask, have you always known you were a shadow summoner?” You stiffened, back pressing against the door of his office. 

“I figured it out three years back,” you responded. “Pushed it down for the first little while, but I encountered our dear sun saint and she helped me deal with it. Trained me, and then our current king booked passage back here. I’ve been working in the factories.”

“Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine, Rietveld.”

“Oh are you now, Morozova? Why do you look so rough if your fine,” he gestured to the seats across his desk, and hesitantly, you moved to sit in one. “Regardless of the circumstance, you’re under Dregs protection now.” 

“I refuse to be indentured to anyone,” the shadows came to your hands instantly, and Kaz just smirked. 

“I’m not making you a slave, Y/N. Consider it freedom from the very real possiblity of dying from the fumes in those factories, plus a space at the Slat.”

Freedom, you thought. Seems a good enough deal, I suppose. 

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ��twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[cat-induced-fever-dream]

I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre: Angst if you squint really hard. Fluff to make up for Marvel reminding me that Nat is dead.

Description: The falling in love of Wanda Maximoff and you. (If anyone has a better description please hit me up.)

Notes: Was going to be a one-shot and then it didn’t happen so there’s going to be a second part. It’ll probably happen in like a month though since I have a trip. Comments always appreciated. :)

- - -

You’re not sure when it happened. To be fair, neither is Wanda.

You had just started with SHIELD, and were there for the battle with Ultron, and then when Wanda became an Avenger. You remember the admiration you held for her, for her powers, for her determination to do what was right, her grit. Now, it was more of a well-deserved respect. Her strength when everything else in her life seemed to be gone, her brutal honesty regarding matters important to her, and her loyalty to those she cared about.

Maybe that’s when it started. As an exemplary agent, you could handle most things Fury assigned you, but being an Avenger? That was a whole new battleground. One that Wanda had your six on. From simple things, like showing you around the compound, and looking for you when you inevitably got lost (again). Wanda with her no frills attitude and sharp tongue, lashing out at Fury himself when he assigned you your 6th mission in 4 days. Wanda with her soft smiles that made your stomach flip and whispered jokes when she noticed your anxiousness on a mission. It wasn’t easy, keeping up with super soldiers, spies with years of experience on you, actual gods, but Wanda made it simple.

- - -

Wanda sometimes wondered if she could really be a hero. She wasn’t a good person. She had done terrible things. Then you stumbled in, a fresh agent and an even fresher Avenger, but you looked at her with no distrust. A little lost perhaps, but no malice. That confused SHIELD agent? It reminded her of, well, her. It may have been under different circumstances, but in essence, they were the same. Thrust into a world of avenging, knowing no one, knowing nothing. So she threw you a line, offered her support when you looked like you needed it. Wanda expected a bite, but she didn’t expect a tug back. The way you offered to help her practice her powers (a little naively), and then when you realised your mistake, your offer to teach her the hand to hand combat you had learned from SHIELD. The way you always looked back for her on a mission, even when you knew she could protect herself with said powers. You were on her team, a comfort she didn’t have since Pietro died. Okay well the Avengers were also her team, but you were her person, always in her corner.

- - -

It shouldn’t be this easy. Sometimes it felt like you could read each other’s minds. To be fair, Wanda could read your mind, but you knew she wouldn’t do it without your permission. Still, there was something about your unspoken agreements that came so naturally. Where everyone else was on comms, it was like the pair of you were tuned to the same wavelength, communicating in a code not even Natasha could decrypt.

“You just get me, you know?” Wanda says, as the two of you are sprawled on her bed after a mission. “It’s like our brains are, I dunno, smooshed together or something. Not even Vision feels like this, and we’re literally connected by an Infinity Stone in his head.”

“Smooshed together?” you laugh. “What an insightful description. And I can’t believe you just compared me to that toaster. I’m obviously way better than him.”

“You realise he can shoot lasers right?”

“And I can turn on a laser on the sights of my guns. Sit down, you’re not special.”

This earns you a giggle. “But it’s like you’re in my brain.”

“Oh so I’m always on your mind?”

“Shut up Y/N/N.”

“Maybe your powers are rubbing off on me,” you joke, wiggling your fingers in her face.

“I do not look like that,” cries Wanda indignantly. “And if you have my powers, what am I thinking about right now?”

“Stealing Sam’s cupcakes,” you reply with no hesitation.

“I was actually thinking about how I hope Steve never reassigns mission partners,” she says pointedly. “But now that you mention it, I could really do with a cupcake.”

“I was right then?” you tease, tugging her towards the kitchen with a cheeky grin.

Wanda rolls her eyes at you, but she mirrors your grin and your stomach is swooping again.

“For the record, you’re my favourite mission partner too.”

- - -

Wanda didn’t expect to call the compound home. She stayed because she had nowhere else to go. And with her differences with Stark and the friendly but still guarded manner of the other Avengers initially (though she didn’t blame them), she kept to herself. But you were different. She noticed the way you prioritised her, looked out for her, to the best of your ability.

She’s shaken from nightmare and automatically, her feet lead her towards you. It’s late, she knows, but when she knocks on your door, you open with an easy smile and open arms that envelop her gently. When her sobbing subsides, you break away, wiping the tear tracks with your thumb.

“Dick van Dyke?” you ask.

Nodding wordlessly, Wanda lets you lead her your bed and settles in beside you.

That’s when she notices the stacks of files illuminated by your desk light.

“Sorry,” she sniffles, throat raw from crying, “did I interrupt you?”

“Oh those?” you say, waving dismissively at your desk. “Maria’s just been on my back lately to get those done, but it’ll be fine.”

With a stab of guilt, she makes to move of the bed, but you grab her wrist before she can. “Don’t worry about it, those can wait.”

As the TV murmurs softly in the background, you wrap a comforting hand around her, and she begins to drift off, nightmares warded away by your presence.

And she wakes up the next morning with the duvet pulled over her, and you slumped at your desk.

- - -

It was an easy mission. Most missions are when you and Wanda are paired together. Get in, get the data, get out. But then HYDRA agents were swarming the building, and intel definitely didn’t mention this level of security, and the exits were blocked off.

“I’m definitely gonna punch Tony later for this,” you groan, and Wanda shoots you a smile before returning to the approaching soldiers. Silently you whip around, firing rounds at the agents on the other end of the corridor. This was one of the many “plans” you had with Wanda, the endless missions allowing you to familiarise yourself with how your two fighting styles complimented each other. Being the enhanced out of you two, Wanda would push forward, handling the bulk of attacks with a flick of her wrist. You had her back, shooting at the stragglers who came from behind. Spotting something that resembled a server room, you gave a tug on her sleeve and she nodded, reassuring you that she had it handled.

Not wanting to leave Wanda for longer than necessary, you plug in the drive to do its Stark-tech thing and bolted back outside. To find the bodies slumped en masse on both end of the hallway.

“Guess you did have it handled,” you say, waving at the uniformed soldiers.

“Oh my god that isn’t even a good pun,” the witch replies, before continuing with a smirk. “But yes, I am way more powerful than you.”

“Don’t think that was ever in question,” you say, but then alarms were blaring, and the building plunges into a red glow and then oh my god there’s a gun behind Wanda and before you knew what was happening, a shot had fired from your gun and there was a burning pain in your shoulder.

The brunette whirls around just as you collapse into the wall. “Guess you’re not as an amazing shot as I am though,” you mutter, before blacking out.

- - -

To say Wanda was in a state of panic was an understatement. It was more like a whole damn continent. As much as she reassured you before missions, your easygoing, playful attitude was her anchor  in these intense situations. Everywhere felt like home, like you two bickering on the couches. Your constant presence was like bringing a piece of the compound with her. And regardless of her experience as an Avenger, as an ex-agent, you were undoubtedly better with running missions. Not everything was a save the world type threat after all.

Eyes darting around, Wanda noted that you had indeed shot the last agent, before skimming across your bleeding out form.

The training doors opened with a bang and Wanda turned to the noise. Then she found herself pinned to the floor.

“Stay focused on the mission,” you scolded, before helping her back up.

The drive. You’d be pissed if she didn’t get it. Sprinting into the server room, she rips it from the port.

“Okay don’t laugh at me, but this is my hierarchy of the 3 Is.”

“Eyes?” Wanda asks.

“No, like the letter I. At the top is innocents, and they’re my priority. Steve says you can’t save everyone, but I can damn sure try. Next is the idiots. That’s the mission. ‘Cause I’d say you’re pretty damn stupid to go up against the Avengers. And finally we have Iron Man, or the heroes. As much as it’s going to hurt, we can’t let the sentiment get in the way. We all knew what we were signing up for, and I’m pretty sure all of us would rather it be us than someone else.”

“Thank you o wise one,” she mocks.

Wanda smiles a little at the memory, but tears pool at her eyes. Then she hears it, the faint footsteps pulling her back from her daze.

“Damn you and your stupid heart of gold,” she whispers, before flying the two of you back to the ship.

- - -

The steady beeping tugs you from slumber.

“Oh you’re up.”

You strain your neck to see Tony walking up with a bowl in his hands.

“You don’t sound very excited to see me Stark.”

“Not when I have to bring meals up here every day for Maximoff,” he says, pointing at the sleeping girl on the chair. “Hasn’t moved for days. Figured I’d hand deliver as an apology.”

“Aw did she punch you for me?”

“Worse,” he chuckled. “Gave me an earful.”

“I’d say you deserve it after that.”

He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Really, I’m sorry though. That was on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. And thanks for looking after her.”

Tony nods politely before leaving the meal and you two alone.

“It’s good to have you back kiddo,” he calls, before shutting the door.

Reaching an arm through the railing, you poke Wanda’s elbow.

“Meal delivery for Miss Maximoff?”

The curled up form stirs a little, rubbing her eyes, before freezing in shock.

“You’re back!”

“Apparently so,” you reply with a wry grin.

Wanda leans over the hospital bed, green eyes searching for any injuries.

“I missed you,” she murmurs.

“And you missed one-“

A slap hits you on your injured arm, and you hiss in pain.

“I’m not apologising for that one,” she glares.

Raising your good arm up in surrender, you pout. “Don’t I get a pity pass?”

“Not for worrying me like that.”

“But it wasn’t even my fault!”

She rolls her eyes (she seems to do that a lot at you some reason).

“Wait,” you frown, “we broke our perfect mission streak.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

Then she’s hugging you, her nose pressed into your neck. Her soft brown hair cascades over your face like a waterfall, tickling your chin. Through your gown, you’re hyper-aware of the cool metal of the rings which adorn her fingers, how nice she smells, how right it feels to be held by her.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she mumbles, her breath warming your neck, and your stomach is doing acrobatics. Even with the meds, you’re aware that this feels familiar, like something.

Pulling away, she studies your face. “Never. Do. That. Again.”

You laugh. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

It must be the meds, it must be.

[combat-wombatus]

Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death. 

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again. 

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy! 

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge​

here’s the link to the music :)

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O  Y O U  W A N T  T O  F L Y  W I T H  M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

[pandoraimperatrix]

First Aid Kit

DickKory | Post s03e04 | 1,4k

Let’s all pretend Dick and Kory are in a established relationship as they should.

---------

I am in love, and I am lost But I'd rather be Broken than empty Oh, I'd rather be Shattered than hollow Oh, I'd rather be By your side

First Aid Kit - Shattered & Hollow

Although she knew it was futile, Kory had been trying to wash away all her guilt - over Komand’r, over Gar, over feeling like she was unreliable and useless to everyone that made the mistake of trusting her – under the shower for the past hour. Thank X’hal for the seeming infinite reserves of hot water of the Wayne Manor. Her forehead against the tiles, her hair pined on the top of her head, her eyes closed, she tried to remember the techniques of concentration she learnt in Ookara, but the words said that day continued to replay echoing around and around inside her head like her own personal “All The Great Mistakes of Princess Koriand’r” radio station. It was discretion and his anti-killing sensibilities.

Honestly for a fighter so violent as himself, he had so many reserves about killing, as if his way of doing things didn’t usually involve crippling or disfiguring his opponent. In Tamaran dragging someone’s face or dislocating their limbs with the goal of causing pain was way more savage than a clean killing. But there was a lot of things she’d never get about Earthens. And Dick was especially hard to understand.

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she only noticed his presence when his arms closed around her. Kory shivered, his skin, always cooler than hers, was freezing.

“Where did you go alone all day?” she asked leaning behind.

“Working,” he said against her neck.

Read on AO3

His body was tense, but as Rachel would say, Dick was a pile of anxiety hiding under a trench coat, so that was usual. She tried to turn in their embrace, to guide him under the hot water, maybe work those shoulder muscles a bit so he’d feel better and don’t drive her insane all night with his turning and trashing. But Dick kept her in place, his hand gripping her hip hard. Weird. He usually liked her massages.

“How was the Commissioner?”

“I think she’s mad at me.”

“What did you do, Dick?” He held her a little firmer. She sighed. “Come under the water I feel like I’m been held by a fish, you are so cold.”

She could almost hear his eyes’ rolling, but he walked under the water with her, pressing their bodies closer as a by-product, Kory swallowed when she felt his penis twitch with the friction.

“Don’t wanna talk about it. Can we just stay this way a little longer?”

That bad, then? Kory felt her heart shrink a size. Dick had made so much progress in the past three months, he had been taking care of himself, letting her and the kids take care of him too, and she was proud of him. But there was no way she’d not worry about how Gotham and this horrible situation with him family could undo all his hard work. She sighed and bended her arm backwards to play with his hair, and Dick moaned softly and bit her ear.

“And your day?” he whispered inside her ear. “Did the kids treat you well?”

“They always do…” her train of thoughts dissolved as he cupped one of her breasts and began spreading kisses down her neck making her body become hot butter under his hands. Dammit Dick Grayson, she should be the one making him relax right now. But maybe, just maybe, he had a better day than hers, and considering her day involved being possessed by her evil little sister, physically abusing and kidnapping her own child against her will, and then the whole craziness that followed... Yeah, she doubted Dick could beat that. And as his hand lowered down her navel, she decided that he could take care of her if he wanted to.

She hissed when he parted her folds and bulked her rear towards him as he started rubbing her clit. Kory moaned loudly and bended forward pressing one palm against the tiled wall as her other hand reached back for Dick’s penis, stroking it up and down. Dick started spreading kisses on her back, starting from the nape of her neck, licking the water droplets on her smooth dark skin.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked sultrily.

A loud curse in Tamaranean was all she could manage to answer when he found the rhythm she liked, she was so close that she let of him to grab her own breast, flicking her nipple with her thumb, but when she was just about to cross the threshold, Dick let her go.

“Shit,” she heard him, but instead of horny he sounded in pain.

Stunned and frustrated, she turned around to understand what was happening, and was slapped in the face with the sobering image of Dick bleeding.

“You are hurt! Dick, what happened?”

He cursed again, gritting his teeth and answered without looking at her, “nothing.”

There was a huge gauze on his left shoulder, stained with blood and wet with shower water.

“Nothing? Are you kidding me? Look at me!”

He sighed and slowly rose his eyes from the ruined curative pad. He looked horrible.

Kory turned off the shower in an angry move that took every ounce of control she had to not break the faucet.

“You are fucking unbelievable.”

“Kory… Look-“ he tried.

“Oh, I am looking!” she snapped. “I can see that you were out there doing X’hal knows what, alone, and got yourself harmed. What was you plan, Dick? You really think I’d not notice this hugeass wound while you fucked me from behind? Do you think I’m that stupid? Or that I wouldn’t care?” She slid the shower glass door open and walked out, so angry that she didn’t think about covering herself with a towel. “I don’t know what would be worse.” She muttered. And as he didn’t respond, she added, “what the fuck happened?”

Dick waited a little longer to leave the shower too.

“I was shot,” he finally said, pulling the tape holding the wet gauze and throwing the whole thing in the bin under the sink.

She blinked in disbelief.

“So it just happened, then? Out of nowhere.”

He sighed again.

“Kory, please…”

“No,” she choked and horror took Dick’s expression. “I’m tired of this,” she continued with a trembling voice. “You brought us here because you needed to be around family. But you are hardly with us, you don’t ask for help, you won’t even say what happened to you,” she sniffled and wiped a tear. “I don’t know what to do here, Dick. And I hate it.”

He wanted to say he was sorry, he wanted to hold her and tell her he’d fix his ways from now on, that everything would be okay, but all he managed was handing her a towel.

“It was Jason… He shot me.”

“X’hal… Dick,” she accepted the towel and buried her face on it.

“I intercepted Crane, used him to lure Jason. I tried to reason with him, we fought. Babs sent cops in a helicopter. They shot us. Jason ran,” he had no idea of how he managed to tell the whole story in such small sentences, but instead of congratulating himself for his fantastic abilities of synthesis, he felt his throat get tighter and tighter. He made Kory cry. He fucked up really bad with Jason, betrayed Babs trust and made Kory cry. What the fuck was wrong with him?

She pulled her face up, eyebrows furrowed with sadness and frustration.

“Why didn’t you call us?”

He had to swallow down a few times to gather moisture to keep talking.

“I thought I had everything under control, and after Hank… I… I didn’t want to put you and the kids under more pressure.”

Her sadness hardened into anger and she threw the towel on his face and walked out the bathroom.

“You are full of shit, you know that, right?”

He picked up the towel and followed her.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what to do either, Kory. I’m… I’m scared.”

She didn’t expect to hear that. She wanted it, but didn’t expect. Kory stopped and turned back to look at him. His lost expression, his bleeding shoulder. It was hard to be angry with him like that. Damn that man and his puppy eyes.

“I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He held her gaze for a while, and gave her a sad little smile.

“Thank you.”

I don’t know how to end this so I’m ending it here lmao. It’s really hard to me to write about an ongoing story. But the idea is doing the work Titans writers refuse to do by giving the characters time to connect. And give myself DickKory content because ficwriting if first and foremost self-indulgent goodness.

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 5

Word count: 4.0K

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Adam: You followed me

I stare at the three words, blinking with tired eyes. All I want to do is sleep, especially after the day I’ve had with Holden, but the baby decided kicking me was more important. So here I am at four o’clock in the morning checking my social media when I should be getting another three hours of sleep.

I rub my eyes, unsure of how to even respond to the message.

It’s just a statement. I feel flabbergasted by it- really, we haven’t talked in years- well, technically months, but the last time we saw each other we just fucked, and our child went to see him without my knowledge or consent. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to those three words?

Y/N: I think we need to talk.

I sigh, setting my phone down. Might as well get straight to the point. The sooner I tell him about the second baby and ask why he would see Holden without at least running it past me the better. I roll over, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Hopefully I can sleep at least a little bit longer. I’m going to need it to deal with the moody adolescent I’ll be seeing in the morning.

~

“I made some toast and bacon. Just let me just finish cutting up these strawberries and then breakfast will be ready,” I inform Holden as he hops down the stairs.

He picks up the filled plate waiting for him on the table, throwing the food into the trashcan and setting the plate on the counter, giving me an expectant look.

I stare blankly back at him. I know he’s waiting for a reaction. He wants me to blow up so then he feels okay yelling at me instead of starting the confrontation himself. Instead, I just say, “That’s wasteful.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing his backpack from its usual spot by the door and making his way outside, letting it slam shut behind him. I release the breath that I’ve been holding in, popping a strawberry into my mouth.

I open my Instagram app to catch up on the posts that I’ve missed, freezing when I see that I’ve received a DM. I forgot that I sent a message to Adam last night. Well, technically this morning. After I sent the message, I passed out hard, and I thought the whole thing was a fever dream.

Adam: What about?

Adam: Here’s my number

My fingers tap the screen quietly as I add his phone number into my contacts, saving it and staring at it blankly.

Well. No time like the present.

Before I can even realize what I’m doing, before I can even think things through and decide what to say or whether this is a good idea or not, or hell, even what time it is in Chicago right now, I click on the phone icon.

I curse to myself, raising the phone to my ear. Absentmindedly, my hand raises to my mouth so I can chew on my fingernail. Nail-biting is a nervous habit that I gave up years ago, but I guess old habits die hard.

“Hello?” His groggy voice comes through the phone.

I can’t breathe.

The oxygen gets stuck in my lungs. All I can think about are his hands on my body, sliding down to grip my hips. The twinkle in his eyes as I would pull my shirt over my head.

And not to mention the last time I saw him. His hair is longer than he used to keep it, but it suits him. It looks good on him. And he bulked up since the last time I saw him, too- his abs definitely looked and felt like it, anyways.

“Hello?” He repeats, sounding more awake and borderline annoyed now.

“Adam,” I respond softly, suddenly feeling shy. Come on, where did my confidence go? I’ll need it to get through this conversation.

“Y/N,” he says, all sounds of annoyance out of his voice. “You actually called, I didn’t think that you would-“”Sorry for waking you up,” I blurt out, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s seven in the morning here. Chicago is an hour behind Philadelphia- it’s what kept me from calling the boys on the team late at night for several years.

“Oh, no, no, don’t you ever worry about that,” he reassures me. It’s quiet. I know he’s waiting for me to speak, to let him know what I want to talk to him about, but I just can’t get the words out. I feel them stuck in my throat, clawing to escape. “So, how’s Holden?”

And there it is.

That question is what spurs me to speak, to dig into the man who hid a huge secret like that from me. But I guess I’m doing the same thing to him now.

“I don’t know, how is he, Adam?” I spit out.

He sighs. He sighs. I want to punch his perfect fucking face.

“If I had realized that you had such a problem with it-“”Such a problem with it?” I repeat, not believing my own ears. Suddenly I’m reminded of why I decided not to tell Adam about this baby and why he wasn’t ready to be in Holden’s life for thirteen years. Hell, it sounds like he’s still not ready.

“My son lied to me about his intentions of going to Chicago, traveled halfway across the country by himself, and saw someone who he’s never met before. Yes, I have a fucking problem with it,” I growl.

“Our son.”

“What?”

“He’s our son. You said my son.”

All I want to do right now is to reach through this tiny screen and hit him upside the head. Really, after I lay out all of my concerns, this is all he has to say to me?

“Whatever. When are you coming to Philadelphia next?” I question. I don’t want to air all of grievances and talk about the new baby over the phone. I’ve had enough communication classes to know that you need to see someone’s nonverbal behaviors instead just hearing what they have to say.

“Why? You want to see me?” Suggestion laces his tone.

No, asshole, you already got me pregnant again.

“Yes. We need to talk about Holden… and some other things,” my voice trails off at the end, not sure how to warn him about such big news.

“Some other things, eh? Well, I’ll be looking forward to that,” he responds, clearly thinking that it’s something regarding us and our relationship, well, our dislike or lust for one another or something, instead of picking up what I’m trying to hint at.

“Cool. So, can you take a trip to Philly sometime soon or are you going to wait until hockey season?” I inquire.

“I can take a trip there, just for you. And Holden, of course.”

I can’t help but let a small smile slip onto my face. That sentence shows me that he’d be a good dad if he just put in the effort. It infuriates me that he’s kept that from Holden for years just because he hasn’t felt like working towards a relationship with his son.

“Good. Let me know when you’re in town so we can meet up.”

“What? You’re not going to invite me to stay with you?”

“Goodbye, Adam.” I hang up before he can respond. All I can imagine the rest of the day is his reaction after that phone call. He would have that small, knowing smile on his face, pulling his phone out of his pocket every five minutes to check and see if he got a new text from me or to send the fifth one in a row to me- one that I still would not respond to.

And my heart skips a beat at the thought of that.

~

It’s been a week since the phone call and since Adam sent me a screenshot of his booked ticket to Philadelphia two weeks from then. For some reason, maybe it’s the stupid, hopeless romantic part in me, I had hoped that he would book his plane ticket and hotel room for that night or even the next day. But he told me he had some ‘lose ends’ to tie up in Chicago before leaving.

And it’s also been a week since Holden has said a word to me. I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve asked him about his day, his friends, cooked him his favorite meals all week, I even offered to take him to Target to get a new video game.

None of that has worked. And it hurts. It hurts knowing that after everything I’ve done for him and everything I’ve sacrificed for him, and how Adam has done none of that, he looks at Adam like a God and me like the scum on the bottom of his shoe.

I know it’s what I’m supposed to do as a mother, care for my son and make sure he’s happy, but it’s just- it’s just- ugh.

I start to feel my blood boil as my mom’s voice echoes in the back of my head. Life’s not fair.

It’s then that I realize that I’ve given him enough space and time to figure out his feelings and how he wants to proceed. I don’t want to give him too much space that he begins to resent me and feel like I don’t care about him.

I know that feeling all too well.

I knock on his bedroom door softly, waiting for him to open it before I just walk in. It creeks open slightly, and just as I expected, eyes matching my mom’s peek out to glare at me.

“Can I talk to you, Holden?”

He doesn’t respond, just stares at me.

“Please, you don’t even have to talk, just listen,” I beg.

Fortunately, he opens the door the rest of the way, watching as I walk into his room and sit gently on the edge of the bed. He sits down on his worn computer chair, laptop open to some video game I don’t recognize on his desk.

“I want to start by apologizing for yelling at you last week,” I begin, taking a deep breath. Apologizing isn’t something that comes easy to me- I grew up in a family where the words ‘I’m sorry’ were unheard of. My parents were always right, and I was always wrong.

“I realize it probably wasn’t easy for you to go to Chicago by yourself to meet your dad. Holden, I just want you to realize that I would do anything to protect you, and I love you with my whole heart so realizing that you were in such an emotionally taxing situation without talking to me about it first-“I pause to sniffle, starting to feel tears well up in my eyes. “I felt helpless. And I couldn’t stop wondering why you didn’t feel like you could share that with me and then I realized that it’s because I don’t share stuff with you either.”

He watches as I lift my sleeve, wiping the tears from under my eyes. His face is still blank, but his eyes look like they’ve softened. He’s understanding my words so far.

“So, yes, this baby is also Adam’s baby. And he did ask about you when I saw him back in February, but I let my pride get the best of me and I told him that he didn’t deserve to see you. I’m sorry for robbing you of meeting your father earlier,” I genuinely apologize, maintaining eye contact with my son.

He shifts in his seat, his hard exterior softening with every word. “Well, I’m sorry for calling you a shitty mother. And saying all of that other stuff. And, if it makes you feel better, I did go to the computer programming camp. I just saw Adam when we had a night off.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

“What did he tell you? About not being involved in your life?” I ask carefully, curious as to what Adam told Holden to turn him against me like that.

“He just told me that he was working through some stuff,” he shrugs, acting like he doesn’t care but I know my son well enough to tell that he does. “And he wasn’t ready until recently to meet me.”

I bite my tongue to keep it from releasing an insult towards Adam. “And how does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” I nod, probing him to go on. “Pretty awful. I don’t think I want a relationship with him, mom.”

A mix of emotions run through my body at his word. I feel anxious, because now I have to tell him that Adam’s coming next week and will want to see him, sadness, because my son now recognizes how his father did not want be involved in his life, and anger toward Adam for making him feel like this in the first place.

“Well,” I cough awkwardly. “He’s coming to Philadelphia next week. I’m going to meet him to tell him about the baby. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. It’s all up to you, bud.”

I stand up slowly, rubbing my belly as the baby begins to kick. He always seems to do that whenever I move even just a little bit- he’s an active little guy.

“Oh,” I turn back around just as I’m about to close the door. “How did you even find out who your father is?”

“Please mom, I’m not stupid,” he grins slyly at me, sliding his headphones onto his neck. “You lived in Chicago when you got pregnant with me and worked for the Blackhawks. I figured, since you said you worked a lot, the only guys you really had a chance to be with were on the team. And when I asked you about my dad for that project for school you said he was Swedish, so I just went to the Blackhawks roster in 2020 and found the Swedish players, messaging them some really uncomfortable and intrusive messages on Instagram.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head. It will never not blow my mind how clever and smart he is. As I close the door to his bedroom, I hear him say, “On the plus side, Alex Nylander is a really nice guy.”

~

The day is finally here. Being eighteen weeks pregnant makes it really hard to hide my baby bump, but I somehow manage to find a baggy sweatshirt that I’ve stolen from one of my ex-boyfriends to cover it up. I don’t want to walk into the restaurant we’re meeting at and have him immediately know.

Somehow my jeans still fit on my legs, but I have a feeling by the end of this lunch they’ll be unbuttoned. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.

I get to the restaurant before Adam, just like how I planned it. I wanted time to scope out my exits in case I need to bail halfway through this meal- knowing Adam, it’s a possibility. I haven’t thought through what I was going to say too much.

I know I need to talk to him about why he would keep Holden going to Chicago to see him a secret from me, and we need to talk about the baby.

But mostly I just want to hear him grovel. The secret, sadistic part of me wants to hear him beg for forgiveness for making me raise my child by myself for the past thirteen years. I want to hear him admit that he fucked up- I’ve never heard Adam Boqvist admit that he fucked up before.

He shows up two minutes late.

I know because my phone is sitting face up on the table and I click on it every five seconds to see what time it is. I tell myself that if it gets ten minutes past noon and he’s still not here, I’m going home and giving up on dealing with Adam ever again.

But then he’s standing in front of me, familiar toothy grin on his face, black beanie on his shaggy hair, and a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

“You’re late,” I state sternly, not letting any sign of emotion onto my face. I need to let him know I mean business. I need to let him know that I’m never getting into bed with him ever again.

“Yeah, sorry, there was a line at the grocery store,” his grin begins to slip, but as he holds the bouquet out towards me, it takes over his face once again. “I got you these.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t make any movement towards them. His smile falls once again and I begin to feel guilty- he did buy these flowers for me, but he also impregnated me and left me twice.

He slides into the chair across the table from me, setting the flowers on the table and coughing awkwardly. “So, have you ordered yet?”

“Just water,” I respond shortly.

“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?”

“I’m not really a day drinker,” I eye him over the top of my menu, then go back to skimming through the items. It’s a charade, though. I already know what I want.

“Are you two ready to order?” The peppy waitress appears at our side, notepad open in her hand.

“I’ll have the chicken alfredo,” I announce, folding my menu.

“I’ll take that too. And a bottle of your sweetest wine, please,” the blonde orders, passing his menu to the waitress. When she leaves, he turns back to me. “I know you like the sweet stuff.”

I take a deep breath, deciding to cut to the chase. I’d rather get through this meal as soon as possible. The sooner we get done talking about this stuff, the sooner I can get out of here.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

He chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken from his glass, water dripping down his chin and landing on the table in front of him. I can’t help but watch with a content smile as he coughs, trying to catch his breath.

“Excuse me?” He utters through coughs, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I’m due in November.”

“Well, uh, congratulations,” he says unsurely.

I roll my eyes, muttering, “You clearly haven’t gotten smarter since last time.”

He seems to catch on to the hidden meaning behind my comment, his eyes widening. “Oh is it- since we-“”It’s your baby,” I conclude bluntly.

A smirk begins to spread across his face. I can’t believe it. He’s smirking just after I told him that he got me pregnant accidentally for the second time.

“Why do you have that look?” I snap.

“My little swimmers work pretty well, don’t they?” He inquires confidently, sipping from his water and succeeding this time.

I lean across the table, turning it on him. “I don’t know, do they? Are there any half-siblings that I need to worry about?”

The smirk is replaced by a look of genuineness now. It startles me, the sudden change of emotions. “No, it’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

I lean back in my seat, the sudden seriousness too much for me to bear. I fiddle with the napkin sitting next to my glass, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yeah, so it’s a boy.”

“Another boy,” he echoes my very thoughts the moment I found out the sex.

I grin at the thought of my second child. When he’s been kicking me at night and keeping me awake, I think about what he’s going to be like. Is he going to cry a lot or is he going to be a quiet baby like Holden was? Will I have to keep an eye on him every minute or will I be able to get some breaks?

And what about when he’s older. Will he like hockey like his dad? Would he like the Flyers because we live in Philadelphia, or would he like the Blackhawks because his dad plays for them?

“Speaking of boys, how is Holden doing? He hasn’t been responding to my texts lately.” Adam means for the question to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone of worry in his voice. Maybe he isn’t as much of a shitty father as I think he is.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” I confess.

He doesn’t bother to hide the hurt on his face. I don’t expect him to. I know how it feels to feel unwanted and unloved by your child- I felt it when Holden told me that I’m a shitty mother. And although Adam deserves the consequences to his actions, I can’t help but feel a small amount of pity for him.

“I deserve that,” he sighs.

“You do,” I agree, knowing that I’m shoving the knife deeper into his heart. “But just give him time to decide what he wants to do. It’s all so fresh to him.”

He gives me a small, vulnerable smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was going to see you while he was in Chicago, Adam?” I ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask ever since I found out about the situation.

He shrugs, not saying a word.

“Yes, you do know,” I persist. “So just fucking tell me. Enough of the bullshit, we’re in our thirties now. It’s time to focus on the children, not your fucking pride.”

He looks baffled by my sudden outburst, but it inspires him to answer. “I was afraid that if you found out, you would stop him. Then I’d never get to meet my son.”

“I would have stopped him,” I agreed, causing him to open his mouth to begin arguing with me. I start to speak again before he can begin. “And reschedule the trip to a time that works better with my work schedule so that I could go with him. Yes, you’re his father, but you’ve never been in his life. You’re essentially a stranger to him.”

He narrows his eyes at me like my words are a challenge. “Not anymore.”

I narrow my eyes at him now. “Really? What’s his middle name? When is his birthday? What’s his favorite color?”

He doesn’t respond and I scoff, taking a sip of my water again. “That’s what I thought.”

We’re quiet as the waitress returns with our meals. I cut my noodles, taking a bite of my food.

“I don’t want it to be that way with this baby,” he says, quickly adding, “And Holden anymore. I want to be there for this baby from the start. Or from now, I guess. And I want to be there for Holden, if he ever wants me.”

Mixed feelings begin to flush through my body. This is what I wanted for my kids from the beginning, an active father figure. And Adam’s offering it now, but why am I still feeling so hesitant?

After years of expecting him to step up as a parent and him never doing it, I have reasonable doubts when it comes to Adam’s parenting ability.

“Well, you know it’s up to Holden. You can’t force him to like you,” I begin slowly, trying to phrase my words in the best way possible. “But with this second baby… we can try it. I have a doctor’s appointment in two days. I’ll text you the address and time.”

“But my flight leaves tomorrow,” he whines. “Can’t you just reschedule for today?”

“You have so much to learn, Adam,” I shake my head. “I just hope you realize that being a parent means that you’re selfless more than selfish. Tell you what, go back to Chicago if you want to. But if you go back to Chicago, the only time you’ll communicate with the boys is when they want to talk to you.”

[deans-baby-momma]

Once In A Lifetime

A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened.  Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least. 

Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience? 

W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)

Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment

Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink

"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"

I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.  

“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”

“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’

I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them. 

And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years. 

Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.

As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away. 

From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled. 

After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it. 

‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’

Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!

I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.

Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.

Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier. 

Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.

Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.

Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?

Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)

Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband. 

Uh, thanks. 

You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better.  Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!

Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?

Yes. I'm sitting in my car.

Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions. 

Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.

Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away. 

I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?

If you aren't interested we completely understand.

Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.

On my way now. 

We can't wait to see you again Y/N!

I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki. 

What universe am I in?!

I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.

"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"

"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code." 

Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can  be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it. 

And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.

"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."

"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."

"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face. 

"Oh."

That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!

Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders. 

"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.

We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.

The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs,  the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts.  But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.

"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."

"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.

"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife.  "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."

"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance,  yet."

"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."

I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.

Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.

The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas,  thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.

A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.

Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.

"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."

In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."

Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.

Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."

I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."

There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.

"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."

"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.

He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.

"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."

Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.

To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened. 

She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!

She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet. 

"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"

Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.

"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."

I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."

I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."

Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."

Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.  

She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!

When Gen does finally lick me open,  she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me. 

"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.

He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.

With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls. 

My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.  

Jared is grunting and groaning behind her,  his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia. 

There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.

"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."

Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."

Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."

I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.

"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh.  Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.

He slaps her ass twice and then stills,  groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile. 

"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."

When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive,  I mean massive.  Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable.  How does he keep something that size hidden so well?

His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.

Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly. 

"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."

“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.

I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”

Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.

Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!

The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form. 

“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”

I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion  of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust. 

“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance. 

“Ready baby?”

I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”

The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. 

Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. 

Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.

I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”

“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”

“Yes! Yes! YES!”

Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.

“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”

Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.

“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears. 

Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens. 

I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!

My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me.  What the hell?

I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new.  I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me. 

I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them.  I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.

I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up. 

And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.

My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.

“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous. 

“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me. 

“Ok baby. Hurry back.”

I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?

As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.

I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked. 

“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”

“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”

I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”

I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.” 

Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated. 

“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”

My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”

When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them. 

“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.”  Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release. 

Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give. 

And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet. 

I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.

A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.

I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”

“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned? 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”

Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?

I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.

“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”

I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”  

Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.

I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.

“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?

“Did you have a good time? With us?”

“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”

To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?

“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.

“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”

I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?

“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” 

The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”

Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”

“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”

“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.

“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.

“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”

“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”

“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”

“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”

“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”

“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”

“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”

The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs. 

I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving,  whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.

Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control. 

When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me. 

"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"

"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!

"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."

I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know,  hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."

He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."

"Anything else?" Gen presses.

"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"

"Of course sweetie."

"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"

When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.

The two older ones, Tom and Shep,  recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.

"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys. 

The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"

Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl.  What's yours?"

The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.

Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side,  telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.

I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about. 

Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.

Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit. 

Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.

Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring. 

"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."

Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.

"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.

"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you.  You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.

"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Do you have any questions?"

They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.

"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."

The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.

"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.

"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride. 

Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.

"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple. 

When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.

"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair. 

"Yea?"

"Do you love us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.

"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"

I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered. 

They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.

"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."

"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"

Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer.  I don't know the answer.

Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?

"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead. 

It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us. 

As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.

After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen,  telling her he loves her  and then turns to kiss me.

"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.

The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.

"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me.  He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing. 

"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me. 

My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to. 

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"

Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards.  We pull away with smiles.  

"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.

"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.

That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one. 

On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.

I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground. 

The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there,  they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.

As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.

I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently. 

I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia,  be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.

The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand. 

"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."

"Y/N," I say with a nod.

"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance. 

"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.

"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."

"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.

Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen. 

"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims.  "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."

So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position.  Good to know as now I can be  more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.

The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees. 

Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.

I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."

"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"

I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.

"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most. 

"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."

Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."

She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers. 

Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again. 

Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.

Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared. 

That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.

After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.

People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple. 

A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."

"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"

"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.

"I love you both so much."

"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked. 

The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.

Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion. 

"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."

I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately. 

"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.

Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.

"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. 

As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips. 

Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.

He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them. 

"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."

"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."

I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue. 

"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes. 

Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.

When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust. 

"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.

"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"

"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.

"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."

"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice.  "Please daddy put your baby in me."

"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."

"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes.  "Are you sure? This is what you want?"

"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."

She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.

Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.

If we made a baby together tonight or not,  I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed. 

Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular. 

I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late? 

The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.

As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything. 

I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words. 

Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix. 

“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.

I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”

“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy. 

“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”

Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.

When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"

"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known. 

Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.

"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."

We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa. 

I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.

"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."

"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here,  nice and warm and growing.”

Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”

I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.

“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”

“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee. 

“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug. 

“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares. 

“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.

“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”

“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s. 

Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.

By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.

We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver. 

I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.

We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.

I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.

“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”

“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”

“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me.  “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”

“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”

“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”

I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.

The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.

I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.

Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.

I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday. 

A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.

That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.

In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl. 

I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea. 

Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family. 

THE END

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 04: I Should Just Tell You To Leave

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Against your better judgement, you seek out Rafe to talk about the Fourth of July party but things inevitably spiral. 

a/n: I don’t really have anything to add!! Enjoy the angst! :))

word count: 2.2k words

The warm Outer Banks sun streamed into your room waking you from your sleep like a subtle alarm clock. The sounds of the air conditioning whirling away in the background was the only noise filling the mostly quiet house. You rolled over in your bed and finding a cool spot drifted back to sleep.

This time the loud chimes of the front door bell pulled you out of your slumber. You sat up onto your elbows curiously. No one ever ringed your door bell except for the delivery person and never this early in the day. A pair of footsteps padded across the foyer to the front door and your mom’s familiar voice echoed through the house moments later.

With your door closed, the conversations was muffled and you could only make out pieces of it.

She didn’t just say “Cameron,” did she? You wondered.

You were surely just being paranoid. It had only been two days since everything that had happened on the Fourth and your brain felt scrambled from overthinking just about every detail of that night.

Your curiosity officially got the best of you and you slipped out of your bed, quietly as not to make any of the floorboards creak in the old house. You cracked open your bedroom door just enough to hopefully steal a glance at the front door but your mom's figure was blocking the face of whoever she was talking to.

The voice though. It sounded so familiar, like you should have been able to place it.

You watched from your bedroom as your mom stepped forward and gave the other person a hug, bringing their face into perfect view.

It was Ward Cameron. What was he doing here?

You watched your mom exchange a few more worlds and close the door behind him. You slide your feet into a pair of throughly-worn through slippers and stepped out of your bedroom.

Your mom was still standing at the bottom of the stairs tapping away at her phone. You wanted to ask her about Ward but you couldn't give away that you had been eavesdropping.

"Morning mom," you said, kissing her cheek, your eyes fluttering down to her phone screen. Her text with your dad were pulled up but it didn't look like anything important. "What’s for breakfast?"

"There's some bagels on the counter,” she replied, not looking up from her phone.

"Okay," you paused. "Was someone at the door?" You asked, hoping your mom missed the eagerness of your question.

"Oh, just Mr. Cameron." She said.

"Ward?"

"Mmmhmm."

"What did he want?" You pushed.

"He's helping us with Midsummers,” she replied.

Midsummers? You thoughts. Isn't that usually in June?

"I thought Midsummers already happened this year."

Your mom sighed and you could pick up on her slight annoyance with your questioning.

"It was. He's helping us with next summer. The board sends out invites the August before."

The bulk of your mom's statement went over your head except for two words: next summer. As in you would for sure be back in the Outer Banks next summer.

"Isn't Nonna already a member of the Club?"

“Yes, she is. But Midsummer is put on through the Island Club which an even more exclusive part of the Club. Our family used to be a part of it when I younger. Ward's helping us get back in."

"I thought our family didn't like the Camerons?" The words were out of your mouth before you realized how it might sound.

Your mom finally looked up from her phone at you. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh," you paused, unsure how to proceed exactly. "Nonna said Mr. Cameron broke your heart your senior year of high school," you said hesitantly. "She said you were so upset you didn't talk to her for like two years.”

Your mom scoffed. "Your Nonna is always so dramatic. That's where your older sister gets it from. My mother told me she wouldn't pay for my college if I followed Ward to UNC. I guess she didn't realize I wanted to go to the west coast for college anyway and was going to break up with Ward when he was home over Thanksgiving break. Things with Ward didn't end with any bad blood, contrary to my mother’s belief. She’s never liked the Camerons for some reason but that's just her."

"So then we're going next summer? To Midsummers?"

"That's what I'm trying to make happen." Your mother went back to typing furiously on her phone.

"And the Camerons go ever summer?” You asked. Your mind defied you, conjuring up an image of Rafe waltzing into Midsummers in a perfectly tailored suit with a matching baby blue bow tie that made his eyes pop.

"What's with the sudden interest in a party?" Your mother asked back.

You forced the corners of your mouth up into a casual smile. "No reason. I'm going to eat breakfast." You quickly disappeared down the hallway before you gave yourself away.

☼☼☼

You hummed along softly to the music coming from your phone as you ran a straightening iron through your thick hair. The summer humidity made it a disaster to deal with. You knew two minutes outside would send it right back into looking like an untamed mess but most mornings you still stood in front of the mirror straightening it anyway.

Your phone which was sitting on the counter to your right buzzed with a new notification. You picked it up and unlocked it. There were two unread text sitting in your messages: one from your dad and another from an unknown number. You opened the second one.

Hey y/n! It's Cleo. Have you heard from Rafe recently? He's been acting weird and ghosting on our plans. I realized I had your number so I figured I'd shoot you a text and ask!!

You reread the text from Cleo before switching to your messages with Sarah.

y/n: Do you know where your brother is?

s: he's in his room moping i'm guessing for the same reason i couldn't find you after the fireworks

y/n: Sorry about that. How about I'll buy you ice cream this week and make it up to you?

You paused for a moment before typing out your next message.

y/n: Do you think I could come talk to him?

s: go for it

s: and i like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles :)

☼☼☼

You stood on the Cameron's front porch, not sure if you should knock or just walk inside. You settled on knocking and seconds later the door swung open revealing a younger-looking blonde woman holding a stemless wine glass with thick gold hoods hanging from her ears.

"Hi," you said, feeling like coming here might have been a very bad idea. "Um, is Rafe home?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah he is. Who are you again?"

"I'm y/n, one of his friends. Sarah said I could stop by."

She stepped back opening the door wider. "Sure, come in. I'm Rose. Rafe's in his room."

"Thank you," you said, stepping into the house. A sweeping staircase climbed up to the second floor. "Up here?" You asked.

"Mmmhmm." Rose nodded, bringing her wine glass up to her lips.

You walked slowly down the long hallway, most of the doors were closed except for one at the end.

You saw Rafe before he saw you. He was sitting in his unmade bed pushed into the corner of the room, only the light from the video games on the tv illuminating the space. You raise your first and knocked lightly on his doorframe, his attention snapping up to you.

You lingered in his doorway. Crossing into Rafe's room felt like it should mean something, you wanted it to mean something. His eyes were glued to the floor, watching your hesitant movements. You took a small step forward. He went back to the game, unpausing it, his fingers flying across the controller, no longer focused on you.

“Hey, I think we should talk,” you said as you crossed the room until you were just few feet away from him. When he didn’t move his gaze from the tv, you glanced around his room looking nervously, unsure where to rest your own eyes. The room was so distinctively his. Everything fit together in a way that made sense and the years he had spent growing up in it were obvious.

“Does your boyfriend know that you’re here?” He snapped back.

You ignored his comment, pressing on. “Sarah said you were moping.”

“Sarah says a lot of things.”

“Rafe.”

“Y/n.”

“Jesus, why are being such an asshole? Are you even gonna look at me?”

You expected your comment to earn you at least a glance in your direction but his head stayed firmly facing forward.

You stepped in front of the tv, forcing him to meet your stare.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I should have told you about Evan earlier. Or made it clearer.” You stumble on your words. The air in the room was hot. The words in your throat felt sticky like it was taking everything in you to get them out.

Rafe stood up from where he was sitting on his bed. Before you realized what he was doing, he was standing in front of you, his arm slipping behind your waist, pull you in until you had to place a hand on his chest to keep some distance between you. God, you cursed the way your body instinctively arched against his, the two of you fitting together like you were perfectly shaped for each other.

“I’m not an asshole,” he growled, his voice lower than you had ever heard it. “Because an asshole would kiss you right now even thought you’ve made it very clear you’re not available to be kissed.”

He looked down at you, his lips no more than two inches from yours. If you tilted your head up anymore your lips might land on his.

He lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

“And to be very clear, I would fucking love to be kissing you right now,” he paused, not moving his mouth from next to your ear. “Actually, I’d like to do a little more than just kiss you, sweetheart.”

A deep blush spread across your face. You whole body responded to his words.

Rafe took a sudden step back, releasing you from his grip. “So you can either call up your boyfriend and tell him you’re over and kiss me like I can tell you want to. Or don’t and leave.” Rafe crossed his arms in front of his body, his tshirt straining against his biceps muscles. How had you never noticed just how built he was? You tried to shake off the feeling of being pressed against him, held in place by his strong arms.

Your phone felt heavy in back pockets, weighting you down. “Rafe, you know I can’t do that. I can’t just pick you or him.”

“I’m not gonna be some side piece y/n. And I’m sure as hell not gonna share you with some kid who probably doesn’t deserve the time of day from you, much less to be your boyfriend. You have thirty seconds. Make a choice.”

“We’ve been together 6 months...7 next week.” You blabbed, practically pleading with him. You hated to hear the words Rafe was saying because you knew they were every bit true. You couldn’t have both boys. But if you were being honest with yourself: you didn’t want them both.

Rafe Cameron was intoxicating. He made your brain swirl and held your whole damn emotions hostage. You should have known after he’d gotten you into a car crash the first night you’d met that he’d end up tearing you apart in every way. Not to mention your own grandmother had quite clearly warned you to stay away from him. But something about his beautiful face made you cling to him and welcome your downfall.

Your eyes danced from Rafe’s lips up to meet his glare. You could see him counting down the seconds behind his stare.

10...9...8...

It was all moving too fast. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

7...6...

But hadn’t you known coming here would lead to this? A part of you did. You knew the second you walked into the big Cameron house with the shiny marble floors you weren’t gonna leave it any bit the same.

5...4...

The voice in your head was screaming at you to walk away. You didn’t hurt people and Rafe was right: staying here would hurt Evan and it would hurt you just as much, maybe more. The voice yelled at you to get out. Run away from trouble back to Evan who wouldn’t ever hurt you. Back to your perfectly nice boyfriend.

3...

But no matter how loud or persistent that voice telling you to leave was, it couldn’t shut up the part of your brain pushing you to take what you really wanted. The boy you really wanted. The boy standing in front of you.

2...

You spun on your heel and kept your eyes down as you across the threshold of Rafe’s room back into the hallway.

1...

Rafe’s door closed behind you with a definitive click. That was it. He’d told you to pick and you had. There was no going back. No do-overs.

You stood frozen in the Cameron’s hallway, blinked away the tears threatening to spill down your face, trying to reassure yourself of your decision.

Your life would be easier without Rafe Cameron crowding your thoughts, you told yourself. Evan was the safe choice, he was good for you.

You let your legs carry you down the grand staircase and out of the front door of the Cameron’s house. There you were, for the second time in a week, fleeing from Rafe Cameron with your heart in the kind of pain that just might actually kill you.

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