#stick to your guns my very best boy!!

[larsnicklas]

WILLIAM NYLANDER ✧ 240102 [What, if anything, can you tell us about how negotiations are going?] Like I said, I'm not going to answer any questions on that.

[sanguineterrain]

in the buff | jason todd

Summary: The one where you learn firsthand that Jason Todd sleeps in the nude.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings/tags: best friend jason, awkwardness, nudity, reader hardcore thirsting over jaytodd, love confessions, humor (attempts at it, anyway), silliness. inspired by this post!

the divider

There's been a huge (blessed) development in the drug ring case that you and Jason are working on. You can hardly sleep now.

Normally, you'd call or text Jason, even though he's usually already in the know. It's possible that you just like having an excuse to call him, but who can confirm such a thing?

But it's late, probably too late to call, considering Jason doesn't answer his phone unless it's pinged directly to his helmet after a certain time, courtesy of his family being "a buncha jackasses" (his words, obviously).

But maybe it's not too late for a visit. After all, Jason patrols late, and has insane insomnia. He very well could be awake at this late hour. And he's never minded you dropping by before.

In truth, you haven't seen Jason in a few days and you feel restless now when you go longer than a day without seeing each other. You're not quite sure why that is.

So here you are, disabling the window alarm on Jason's apartment. Partly for a case, partly for your own benefit.

It takes a few minutes but you manage to open the window without anyone calling the police or whacking you with a broom. You slide open the window mostly soundlessly. Then you wait. The room remains dark and quiet.

You're pretty proud of yourself actually. It's not that you're green when it comes to spycraft, but you're certainly no Batman.

Still, you've managed to sneak into Jason's apartment without waking him. The Red Hood. You peek in to check if he's really asleep.

And he is, dark hair stark against the white pillow. It sticks out in messy tufts. You can't see past Jason's neck and his freckled arms, illuminated by the orange streetlight outside. You put your laptop bag on the floor.

He's sleeping on his stomach, facing away from you, but you're very endeared by how he's curled up under his sheet, hands tucked under his pillow. If you went really close to his face, you could count his eyelashes. Jason has such pretty eyelashes.

That's a perfectly normal thought to have about your best friend, right? Boys have pretty eyelashes. You're just making an observation.

You're bewildered by how cold the room is, surprised that Jason can withstand such a temperature. Maybe it's a Pit thing.

You watch him for a moment longer. Guilt pools in your gut. Are you really going to wake him when he's probably just gone to bed in the last hour? It takes Jason so long to fall asleep, you know that.

...

No, you should let him sleep. You can work on the case in the morning.

You bend down to get your laptop bag. In that time, the light flicks on.

You flinch, turn around, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Said gun is held by an extremely naked Jason Todd.

"Oh my God!" you say at the same time Jason realizes his mistake.

"What the fuck!" he shouts, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.

But not before you get an eyeful of your best friend's, er, weaponry.

"Why are you naked?" you shout, gaze darting everywhere. Good Lord, it's seared into your retinas. You're never getting the image of Jason's dick out of your brain.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Jason snaps back.

"No, my question is way more urgent," you say.

"No the hell it's not! You broke in! I'm allowed to be naked in my apartment!"

"Okay. Alright. I came because there's been a development in our case. I thought we could work on it together but when I realized you were asleep for real, I decided to leave."

Jason rolls his eyes. "You know I'm a light sleeper. I just went to bed. I was up late.”

Realization strikes you. Could it be...?

"Oh my God. Do you have someone here?" you ask, voice sinking to a whisper.

"I have you here," Jason says irritably.

"No, like—" You make a hole with one hand and stick a finger into it. "Y'know..."

"Jesus, no!" Jason's face twists in disgust. "C'mon!"

"Okay, chill out, Jay-Jay. It'd be fine if you did. I can keep a secret," you say, shrugging. People have sex. You know that. You've never thought about Jason having sex, but you suppose it's possible. Why not? Just because you've never had sex and you always hoped that Jason would be your first doesn't mean that he would. If he's moved on in his life, then you should too.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, okay. You think anybody would get into bed with a headcase like me?"

Hope rekindles. You're not behind. Jason's right there with you, virginity firmly intact.

He puts the safety back on the gun, squishing the pillow against himself with his elbow. You watch in fascination at his multitasking. Jason starts to turn around to put the gun behind the headboard before clearly thinking twice about mooning you.

"So... why are you naked?" you ask, respectfully keeping your eyes north of the equator.

"If you must know, I sleep in the nude. Now turn around."

You don't turn around. "In the nude?"

Jason's eye twitches. "Yes, nude. It's better for your body and it's more comfortable and I don't—"

You pull a face. "Who says in the nude? How old are you, a hundred?"

"That's what you're harping on?" Jason asks. "You broke into my apartment!"

You hold up a finger. "I didn't break in, I disarmed the alarm like you taught me."

"Yeah, which was only for emergencies. This isn't an emergency. Now turn around!"

So you turn around. You hear the pillow fall and the image returns. You recite the alphabet backwards. When that doesn't work, you think about the time you helped Jason on a mission in the sewers and couldn't get the smell out of your suit for a week.

Yeah, that'll do it. You shudder.

"Can't believe you just broke in," he mumbles. "Raised in a fuckin' barn, swear to God."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm truly, honestly sorry, Jaybee. From the bottom of my heart. Can I look now?"

"If you dare."

"Are you decent?" you ask.

"Too easy of a joke," he says. "Yeah, the jewels are covered."

You turn slowly. Jason's got red (ha) boxers on, so you turn all the way.

Huh. Well.

You've never really thought much about what Jason's got going on underneath his armor. Certainly, you've assumed that he's got a good physique and a lot of stamina, considering what he does. You've always assumed that. But Jason's Jason. Your best friend, Jason. Your best friend, Jason, who came back really tall, yeah, and with a deep voice and a super pretty face...

Well, anyway. He's Jason. That's all.

But now? Now you get to look in depth, and... whoa.

Jason's broad, stocky, heavily muscled with a soft layer of fat on top. His arms are huge, hands proportionally big. His pecs are full with pink nipples the same shade as his lips. That's a fact you're never forgetting. Your belly flutters.

Okay, what the fuck! No. This is peak creepy behavior, leering at your best friend like this, even if he does have shoulders you could sink your teeth into and thighs you'd happily get crushed between. No! Bad.

...You look some more. He's covered in scars. This is the first time you've seen his autopsy scar in person. It's white, noticeable but healed, like most of his scars. There's a dusting of dark hair from his chest to his belly button. It thickens as it dips beneath his—

Mm, nope. Not thinking about that again.

"Hello-o."

Your eyes dart back to his face.

"Are you listening to me?" he asks, forehead crinkled.

"What? Yes. Sorry. Yes." Your cheeks burn.

Something crosses Jason's face, too quick for you to read. But then his expression stones over. He glances at the dresser across from the bed.

"If you gimme a sec, I'll put a shirt on so y'won't have to look at all this," he says, gesturing roughly to his body.

You blink, lost in Jasonland. "Huh?"

"I know the scars are pretty gnarly. Lemme find a shirt."

Jason goes to the dresser and digs through the top drawer. His wide back is strung tight with tension, you can tell. You hurry to him, blocking the drawer with your arm. Jason looks at you, brows rising.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"Um."

Words. You remember words, don't you?

"You..."

You haven't been physically close to Jason in a long time. He smells like soap and detergent and is all-encompassing. Your brain feels like slush. Don't stare at his pecs.

"I didn't—I'm not grossed out by your scars, Jason," you finally manage to say.

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Sure. You're just grossed out by everything else about me." He sighs wearily, like he's practiced this speech every night in the mirror. "Look, it's fine. I know I'm really—"

"No, it's not fine! I can't bear having you think I'm repulsed by your body, Jason. That's just not true," you say.

"Well, you were starin' pretty hard, so—"

"But it wasn't—I wasn't staring in disgust, I was—I..."

Jason crosses his arms. His pecs are pushed up as he does so. His stomach looks so soft. But you know he's strong. Way stronger than you. Strong enough to wield his strength against you, if you wanted him to. Strong enough to be gentle with you, too.

You wonder if he's still ticklish.

"You're doin' it again!" Jason says, and this time he really does look hurt. Fuck. Fuck! You're a shitty best friend.

"No!" You lock eyes with him. "No, no! I mean, yes, I was looking at you. But I wasn't looking in a bad, judgy way. I was, uh, taking in your physique. Because you have a... a very nice body. I've never seen you without clothes so I was looking at you. Sorry."

Yeah, you'll just go die in a hole after this.

Jason squints at you for a long moment. You start to shift in place. Sweat beads on your forehead. You lick your lips, hoping Jason can hear your honesty.

"Are you messin' with me?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, why would I—"

"You're really telling me that you find this," Jason gestures to his body, "Good looking?"

This is worse than any physical torture. You'd prefer Batman beating you up on a roof to being here.

You rub your temple, cheeks aflame. "Oh my God. Yes, Jason, you're a good looking guy. Can we move on?"

"No, 'cause I think you're lyin', and I don't like it. You're always honest with me."

"I am being honest," you say, suddenly more annoyed than anything. Because what the fuck? "Are you kidding me? There's a whole forum dedicated to the Red Hood and how much people want you to step on them. And that's without seeing your face! I have eyes, Jason, of course I find you attractive."

And that should be the end of it. Jason's already slack-jawed like a dead fish. But no, you keep going.

"You make me nervous and I thought I had a lid on it because we knew each other as kids but it's becoming clear that I very much don't, and that probably has to do with the fact that you're the only guy I've been close to, and I never got over you. And now I'm gonna go drown myself in the Hudson. Good night."

You go to slip out the window. Maybe it'll shut on your head and knock you out. That would be a divine gift.

It doesn't, though. The universe isn't so kind. Instead, Jason catches your arm and keeps you rooted to your spot. His hand is cold. You wonder if the rest of him is warm.

"Wait, wait. Just hang on."

You groan. "Dude, I'm fucking mortified over the last five minutes. Please let me keep some of my dignity," you say without looking at him.

"Now when have I ever done that?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

And suddenly, the miserable reality of never being more than friends with Jason Todd comes crashing down. It's too late. You've always been too late.

You sag in his grip.

"We can just forget this ever happened," you say quietly. "Chalk it up to idiocy."

"Mm, yeah, we could. 'Cept I don't think you're an idiot. And I want you to hear what I have t'say first. Will ya look at me?"

Mopily, you look at him. His hand drops.

"I—"

"You've never slept naked," you say before he can get a word out. "That's new. Otherwise, I would've known, and then I would've used the door."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Can I speak?"

You cross your arms. "Yeah, okay."

"First of all, I don't think it's necessary for me to disclose that I sleep in the nude." You open your mouth to argue. "But I know it was a mistake. I'm not mad about that. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

"I won't lie and say I'm not surprised at your... reaction. I don't really... I've never... I'm not Dick or Bruce, y'know? I wasn't told my whole life what a handsome boy I am. And dying and returning didn't really help with that stuff either."

"I think you're handsome, Jason," you say quietly. "Honest."

He coughs and looks away, a tiny blush on his cheeks. "Yeah, uh, think you've made that pretty clear. For the record, I think you're really beautiful. Always thought so."

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean... yeah."

"You're just saying that 'cause I saw your vein cane," you say, grinning.

"Don't call it that."

"How about—"

"No."

You're both quiet.

"How 'bout pork swor—"

"No!"

You smile, eyes squinty. Jason glares.

"Don't nickname my thing," he says.

You nod solemnly. "You're right. It's your thing. You should choose its name."

He shakes his head. "Sucha weirdo."

"Hey, I've never been with a guy. I don't know the rules of thing-naming."

Jason tilts his head. "Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

You shrug. "Never found anyone I liked enough, I guess. I've pretty much had my heart set on you, Jason."

His face softens. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, uh, me too," he says. "You're it for me, honey. I just never... I mean, really, I never thought it would actually happen with you. Not then, not now."

"Huh. You really should've flashed me earlier. We could've sped things up exponentially."

"Yeah, why didn't I think of that," Jason says dryly.

"Dunno! We all know you're more than a pretty face."

His face reddens. You grin.

"Are you shy?" you ask, dancing on your toes.

"No. Shut up."

"You're shy! I make Jason Todd shy! Oh, this is wonderful. I should break into your apartment regularly."

"It's just new for me!" he says. "Lea' me alone."

You cozy up to him, confidence renewed by the mutual confession. You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason looks at you, hands slowly coming to rest on your waist. The rest of him is warm.

"Just teasing you, Jaybee," you say.

"Hmm." He slowly nudges your cheek with his nose. "Like y'always do?"

"Like I always do," you say sweetly. "But for the record, if we ever share a bed in the future, you're gonna have to keep the soldier in his tent."

Jason lets go of you, exasperated. "Oh, for—y'know what? Your visitation privileges are revoked. Get outta my apartment."

You put on the saddest face you can muster. "You're kicking me out? Into the cold?"

"It's eighty degrees."

You sigh loudly. "Okay, fine. Date tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" Jason asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Seriously! Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"You really wanna date me?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life."

Jason's relief is palpable and bittersweet. You'll spend the rest of your days letting him know just how spectacular he and his pectorals are.

"Okay," he says, shy again. You don't tease him this time.

"Great!" You close the distance between you and peck him on the cheek. His blinks in surprise.

"I'll give you a proper kiss on our date," you say, winking. "Bye, Jasey-Daisy."

"Bye, honey. Don't break into anyone else's apartment on your way home."

"Never," you say, climbing out the window. "You're the only one for me, Toddy!"

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

It’s Not A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems.

Word Count: 3.1K (I promise I didn't mean for it to happen)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing (only a few times), Heated Kiss, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex/Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

Main Masterlist

A/N: Okay I know that I should be working on my other fics, but I had this idea after reading an INCREDIBLE fic by @justagirlinafandomworld called "Stranded" for @jacklesversebingo and I couldn't help myself.

Sam squeals the car into the parking lot of the motel so loud that Dean and you can hear the high pitched scream of rubber on asphalt from your room on the second level.

"If he ruins those tires he's going to pay for them." Dean grumbles under his breath from where he sits at the small wooden table under the window, wiping down his gun with a clean rag. The sunlight that came streaming through dramatized the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft sleepy strands of his hair that still stuck up from when he woke up an hour ago.

"I don't know what his hurry is." You don’t look up from the worn paperback perched in your lap, gently turning the page. "If he's that eager to get back here to tell us something he should have just called."

“Maybe there was a sample sale on hair gel.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you can sense him look up from the gun to try and catch your eye, but you don't raise your gaze from the text.

“That’s pretty brave coming from someone who owns 90% of the products in that bathroom.”

“What? I do not-“

“Really? If I walk in there right now there won’t be seven different half-used deodorant sticks?”

“They’re different smells." Dean says defensively. "And shut up. I don’t comment on how many books you bring with you. Don’t know why you need to shove a million in your bag and then just buy one while you’re here.”

“Because I might not feel like reading the ones I bring. I might want to try something new. And this book,” You wave the book in your hand for emphasis. “Is very good and I don’t have it back at the bunker, and it was only two bucks!"

“But the others ones might be good too. You don’t know.” Dean sighs, looking at you like you're insane. "You just let them sit and rot in your suitcase."

Today was the last day that you would be staying in Louis, Illinois. The current case that the three of you had been working on together had been solved, which meant that the townsfolk were no longer dealing with a zombie outbreak and you were at peace to settle down on your pull out bed with a good book, taking a few moments for yourself.

You desperately needed at least five, but you also wished that you were already back in your room at the bunker.

The bed there didn't have as many springs that stuck into your back at odd angles and didn't squeak whenever you moved an inch. Your inability to find a comfortable position meant that the mattress squeaked all night long and Dean had thrown his pillow at you to make it stop. He hadn’t been pleased when you returned it back to him. Then again, you had hit him in the face with it as hard as you could when you did.

And like hell you were going to give Dean Winchester the satisfaction of sleeping in bed with him. You’d had to do that one time on a hunt where there were no extra rooms and Dean refused to let you sleep on the floor or in his car. He said that you might make it spontaneously combust.  So you'd shared the bed and learned that he was the biggest blanket hog you’d ever met, not to mention when you woke up he was spooning you and you couldn’t be certain, but you thought he had tried to cop a feel at least once.

If anything you’d maybe sleep in Sam’s bed, but the guy was so much bigger than you he took up most of the space, so you were stuck with the pull out couch.

You couldn't wait to be home. You liked going out on cases, but you liked that you had a home now, a space that was only yours, and someplace where you could shut yourself away from the world. And most importantly, away from Dean Winchester, who had been the bane of your existence since the night you met him for the first time.

Of course this wasn't too bad either. Taking a few moments of quiet for yourself while Dean cleaned his guns and sorted some of his tools in his duffle. The two of you were getting more comfortable around one another. When you’d first met there had been a lot of screaming and several "she's not going to be there is she?" and "what the hell is she doing here?" questions that Dean moaned to Sam over and over the more the three of you teamed up.

You weren't used to working with other people, well, now you were,  but before it had just been you and the endless road. But as it began to happen more and more you tried to fit comfortably into the swing of things. Dean and you would occasionally bump heads, but it happened less now than it did before. After five years you'd hoped that the two of you could be more civilized, for Sam's sake at least.

Sam and you got along much better. You didn't understand what Dean's problem was with you, or why he hated you so much. He was always correcting you, insulting you, and snatching things away from you as if you hadn't been hunting your entire life. Occasionally it wasn't that bad, like right now, but it had been much worse a few years ago.

When you'd met Dean you'd hated him, thought he was a dick, but the more the two of you spent time together on cases the more you saw that he did those things to hide what he was feeling and the more you saw how big his heart was.

You believed that your relationship now with him had progressed to a sort of symbiotic relationship, but honestly it was more like passive aggressive roommates who fight over whose turn it is to clean the dishes.

Dean still tended to get high and mighty sometimes and annoyed you without end, but you stuck around and in Sam's words "bickered like an old couple."

Sam had gone to grab some snacks and fill the tank at the gas station down the street twenty minutes ago, leaving with a joyful "Don't kill each other."

So far there were no casualties, but apart of you itched to beam Dean in the back of the head with the paperback just for a little bit of excitement.

Sam bursts into the room out of breath. "Okay I-"

"Where's the fire Sammy?" Dean sighs looking up from his gun.

"I ran into someone when I was at the gas station." Sam says it all together, as if it's one sentence.

"And?" You move your hand in a come on gesture hoping that Sam will get to the point.

"Well he's- he's-"

The man that pushes into the room past Sam is not Dean, he looks like him, but that's not why he's so familiar. He's muscular with dark brown hair that hangs a little longer than Dean's, over the top of his ears, while a few strands fall forward on his forehead. He's allowed a dark beard to cover his cheeks, but his eyes are the same piercing green that they were the last time you saw him. And if that wasn't enough for you to recognize him, the dark green superhero suit would be a dead giveaway.

Oh shit.

"Ben?" You drop your book onto the thick carpeted floor in surprise.

Two months ago you had been unwillingly transported to another reality, a reality where superheroes were real, people had powers, and where you met a version of Dean that you actually got along with better than the Dean in your reality.

You hadn't told Sam or Dean what happened between Ben and you. You weren't about to admit out loud that you actually got along with another version of Dean or admit that you found the other version of Dean aka Ben, attractive. So attractive in fact that you had spent a good amount of the time in the other universe in bed with him before you came back to your reality.

Ben doesn't respond, instead he crosses the room in several powerful strides, and hauls you up off the pull out couch.

"What are you-"

One of his hands tangles in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth against his in a furious kiss that steals your breath away and silences whatever you were going to say next. A part of you registers that Dean and Sam are still in the room, but it's quickly swept away by how it feels to kiss Ben. You hadn't forgotten him, anything but that. Sometimes you actually kind of missed him, when you were lonely or when the Dean from your universe annoyed you too much. Because Ben annoyed you too, but at least at the end of it there was a way to relieve the tension. With Dean the only place you put all your frustration was into the hunt and there were only so many times you could bash a Djinn’s head in.

Ben's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him in, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck to thread into the long strands of his hair. The strands fall between your fingertips, feathering out from your grip. You moan softly into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheeks, and feel his hand begin to slip down your back to rest on the curve of your ass.

Well, he certainly hasn't changed.

"Fuck I missed you sweetheart." Ben murmurs against your mouth squeezing your butt to emphasize the point. "You and this sexy fucking body."

"Ben." You roll your eyes with a snort.

"What? You didn't miss me?" He raises an eyebrow, forcing his mouth into an attractive pout. "Because you certainly seemed happy to see me a second ago." His free hand gently traces your plump lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

"I did and I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Thought so." Ben leans his head back down towards yours, ignoring your question as he tries to kiss you again, but before he can Dean interrupts.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dean shouts, standing from the table under the window, and points his gun at Ben's unprotected back. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ben half turns over his shoulder eyes flicking from the gun to Dean with a sigh. "Look the only thing that's gonna do is piss me off. And you don't want that kid."

Dean makes a face. "Who the hell are you calling kid?"

"Now why don't you two fuck off for a few hours, let me give her a proper hello." Ben turns his dark eyes back on you, cupping your chin in his large hand.

"Y/n? You want to tell us what's happening? Or who this guy is?" Sam asks, but you can't look away from Ben.

You really had missed him. Ben was even more attractive than you remembered. The day that you'd left his universe, Ben had asked you to stay, well, had asked you in his own way. He'd said that he wasn't done with you and if you had stayed he would have made it worth your while. But you had to come back. You weren’t sure how Dean and Sam would survive without you and also because the universe that Ben inhabited was more terrifying than yours, and that was saying something, given that you dealt with demons on a daily basis.

"Guys this is Ben." You clear your throat. "Ben this is Dean and Sam."

"Ben as in Soldier Boy? From the fucked up reality with the people with superpowers Ben?" Dean sputters. He lowered the gun slightly, but he's still looking from Ben to you like he's just walked in on his parents making out.

"Yes." You say it slowly, trying to find a way out, but there really isn't any way to hide this.

It's not that big a deal, is it?

Ben releases you and turns to look at Dean, eyes skating over his body. "So that's Dean?" He tilts his head to the side. "Kinda scrawny. The way you described him made me think he'd look a little more like a man and less like a fucking pussy."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dean takes a step towards Ben, holding his gun steady out from his chest. You noticed that Dean did try to puff it out more after Ben's insult.

"You heard me." Ben smirks, welcoming the challenge.

"Whoa!" You step between them. "Calm down ladies there's enough Prada to go around at this sample sale."

Ben's eyes narrow in confusion at your comment, but he doesn't back down from Dean.

"I'd say that you left a few details out of your trip!" Dean shouts looking from Ben to you in disgust. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What?" You look at him like he’s crazy.

What does he mean?

"You, and him." Dean gestures wildly with the gun. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What are you talking about? No I didn't sleep with you, I slept with him and it was only once!" You shout back.

Ben clears his throat.

"Fine. A few times.” You correct with a sigh.

“But- you- him-“ Dean’s head turns from Ben to you. “Him- you-.”

“Yeah. Me and her fucked.” Ben says it slowly like Dean is a child.

Honestly he was acting a little bit like a child.

Sam is holding back his laughter behind a hand while Dean’s eye begins to twitch aggressively.

This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. They aren’t the same person! Dean is Dean and Ben is Ben. Someone who shares the same face. And probably the same other things that I’m not going to think about right now because that seems crazy.

"How many times is a few?” Dean demands.

"Why does that matter?”

"HOW MANY?" He shouts so loud that you think the people in the next room over were probably having a wonderful time listening to this soap opera.

Because it kinda did sound like one right? The main character never gets along with someone and then gets transported to another reality through a colorful portal and immediately clicks with another version of him. And-

Maybe I need to rethink my life.

"Well..." Your face scrunched up trying to count exactly how many times that you and Ben had sex. It was difficult. Not that it was hard to remember, you knew that you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon, but just the amount of times the two of you were together was more than you could count on your fingers.

"Well what? You were there for five days!"

"I mean..." You shrug.

“Why?” Dean groans pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to scrub the images from his brain.

Honestly, if he’d told you that he had sex with another version of you, you probably would have had the same reaction, but you were not about to admit that to Dean Winchester of all people.

He’s not gonna win this argument. Especially not when he's waving his gun around like a psychopath.

“Because he's-“ You  glance over at Ben who winks at you. “I don’t know. He’s just kinda-.”

“Everything you’re not.” Ben raises his eyebrow at Dean.

“Sammy you gonna weigh in on this?” You look at Sam expectantly hoping that he can jolt Dean out of the never ending loop he seemed to be stuck in.

“Nope. I’m staying out of it.” Sam holds his hands up in surrender.

“I cannot believe you slept with me!” Dean shouts again.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t sleep with you! I slept with him. Can we please move on-“ You groan.

"Same thing!"

"What? How is it the same thing?��� You plant your hands on your hips glaring at Dean.

"He's me from another universe!" Dean is gesturing wildly with his gun now. “How would you feel if I slept with an alternate version of you?”

“It’s completely different!”

“How?”

“They aren’t us!”

“He sure as hell looks like me!" Dean snaps back. "What did you close your eyes the whole time or something?"

Your cheeks flare bright red with Dean's question. "No I didn't!"

“And I don’t look like you.” Ben grunts crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean a once over again.

“He also doesn’t act like you.” You add.

It was true, Ben didn’t. And for some reason you got along with him more. You didn’t understand what Dean’s problem was, but for the better part of five years he’d been treating you like you hadn’t been hunting your whole life. Not to mention the first three years were spent with Dean barely saying two words to you without some kind of insult attached.

“That’s beside the point!”

“How is that beside the point?” You demand.

“I can’t believe you did this!”

"I didn't kill anyone Dean. I didn't torture any babies or kill any puppies. We are consenting adults! We had sex-"

“No no no!” Dean puts his fingers in his ears. “Lalalalala.” He sings to himself to avoid the image.

"And we're gonna have it again. So the two of you should clear out, unless you're in to that kind of thing Deanie.” Ben wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, but you don’t take your eyes off of Dean.

“Fuck I’m gonna need so much therapy after this” Dean groans putting the gun down on the table. Which was a good sign because now you weren’t worried that he would accidentally shoot Sam in the foot.

“Really? After everything you’ve gone through that’s what pushes you over the edge?” You ask him in shock.

“Yes. Are you happy? You’ve driven me to the point of insanity!” Dean snaps.

"You're acting like a child."

"I am not! I am having a completely normal reaction to finding out you slept with Wannabe Captain America!” Dean gestures to all of Ben who looks at Dean like he can’t tell if it’s an insult or not. 

You take in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Why are you so upset that I slept with him Dean? I don’t understand how this is so earth shattering to you that two people had sex! You have sex with people all the time-“

“Not with you!”He snaps back, but then clears his throat when he realized what he just said.

“He is not YOU!” You shout rolling your eyes for the millionth time. At the rate he was going, you were sure they were going to roll out of your head. 

“As important as this conversation is… can we maybe put a pin in it and go back to why he’s here?” Sam asks diplomatically.

“No-“ Dean says at the same time you say.

“Yes! Ben why are you here?”

“Don’t really know.” He shrugs taking a long hit from a joint that seemed to materialize out of thin air, while tightening his arm over your shoulders. “All I know was that I was fighting Homelander and someone hit me from behind. Then I ended up here.” Ben’s eyes trace your body. “But I’m not complaining, especially not because I got to see you again doll.” He winks.

“Homelander?” Dean repeats. “That is the stupidest hero name I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“He’s anything but a hero.” You fight the shudder from the last time you ran in to him. “Think about Superman if Superman was a narcissistic sadist with a massive inferiority complex, no weakness, and an obsession with perfect hair.”

Dean looks Ben up and down with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t have at least been a bit more like Batman.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to meet knockoff Batman from his reality either.” You respond.

"I guess I'll start doing some research." Sam says slowly, looking from Ben to you while hiding a smile.

He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Good." Dean frowns at Ben, before he claps him hard on the shoulder. You saw Dean fight the wince when he felt how solid Ben was. "Let's get you home buddy." His eyes dart from Ben to you. "Before you do anything else that'll scar me for life."

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are not required, but are always appreciated! 😊

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[ohmyitsfaith]

Little survivors

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Eight years later, you are visited by a very strange and violent lady, who makes a deal with Five to get you out of the post-apocalyptic world. With this comes the bonus of a comfortable life and a few calm years.

Warnings: The Handler. Think I said enough. Domestic life, but starts off with the Handler threatening people. Quite physically. Also in the middle it gets a bit steamy. Talks of pregnancy and birth.

Word count: 10.6k (shit this is long)

A/n: This was also a requested fic, as a part two to Little survivor. I tried to twist the storyline a little bit, hopefully you guys will like it. I like the idea that the Commission is a part of a society where everything is disturbingly perfect. Maybe I overthought this whole thing, but honestly, it birthed a kind of great story, so... Also, I was debating splitting this into two, but then the title wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, enjoy!

As the days passed, life became harder and harder. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying time with your husband and son. Max was the cutest little kid and you really lucked out with his temperament being so good. He was the calmest little toddler, who then grew up to be a quite docile child. Sure there were a few tantrums, but in the end, he was a kind and calm little kid.

“Max!” you yelled for him as he played in front of the camp in the sand. He was now 10 years old and smarter than you thought was possible in the post-apocalyptic world. All thanks to Five, who provided the teaching material needed for him. With him working on the equations almost non-stop, it was up to you to try to get the best out of the material Five gave you.

You suddenly became aware of the deafening silence outside.

“Max?” you dropped the stick that you were using to light the fire for dinner and hurried out with your heart beating heavily in your chest.

As you rounded the corner, you saw a well-dressed woman, holding your son by his waist.

“What are you doing?!” you yelled at her, and, ready to save your son, you advanced toward her.

“Ah-ah-ah!” she held up her free hand toward you. “I wouldn’t come closer if you want this sweet little boy to live.”

“Mommy” Max whimpered in the woman’s hold.

You eyed him with worry in your eyes, then looked up, glaring at the woman.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Just an answer,” she started, “where is Number Five?”

Your heart beat even more anxiously at that question. Five went out to gather more resources for the week and he was supposed to arrive by dinnertime. You were only expecting him around the time when the sun lowered beneath the horizon and that wasn’t til later.

“I don’t- I-” you stuttered.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you know where he went” the lady said calmly and you watched in horror as a small pistol was raised toward Max. “Now, where is Number Five?”

“Please don’t! I’m begging you, I don’t know where he is!” you pleaded, now on your knees. “Don’t hurt him, he’s just an innocent boy! Please.”

In that moment, the man in question turned up. When he saw the scene in front of him, a wild fire lit inside his heart. Not only was he scared, but angry as well. Who dares to threaten his whole world?! He dropped his gatherings and grabbing his gun, he ran up behind the unfamiliar woman.

“Let. My son. Go!” he gritted his teeth, holding the gun up toward the woman’s head.

“Ah, Number Five!” the woman turned around, smiling widely. “Just the man I wanted to see!” she thankfully put the pistol away.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, still not putting his gun down, focusing fully on the woman, on every little move just in case she would hurt Max.

“Daddy” Max whimpered this time and Five’s eyes flickered over to him for just a fraction of a second.

“I’m here to help” the woman answered, still holding Max tightly.

“By holding my son hostage?” he asked, angrier than ever. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet right between your eyes!” he gritted.

“‘Cause…” the woman started, walking forward. Through your tears you could see Max struggling in her arms, trying to twist out of her hold. “If you did that, you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to give you” she said simply. “Which would be rather tragic, given your…” she looked back at you, “current circumstances.”

“What do you want? And be careful with what you say! My hands are quicker than you would expect” Five warned, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at any given moment. He just had to wait for when Max was safe out of her hands so he could shoot the woman dead.

“I work for an organization called the Commission” she started her explanation. “We are tasked with the preservation of the time-continuum through manipulation and removals.”

“I don’t understand…” Five’s eyebrows pulled together.

“Sometimes people make choices that… alter time” she shrugged. “Free will. Don’t get me started on that… When that happens, we dispatch one of our agents to… “she searched for the right words, “eliminate the threat.”

This caused Five to harden his shoulders, keeping the gun pointed at the woman, ready to shoot.

“No, no, no” she put her free hand up, chuckling. “You misunderstand me. You are not a target.”

“Then why don’t you let the boy go?” he hissed.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. I need your answer to my proposal” she smiled. “I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five” she said. “We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time. And we think you have potential!”

“What the hell are you on about?” he asked.

“Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity in the Headquarters” she explained. “The way you strive hard to protect what little you have and provide for them” she glanced back at you and then down at the boy in her hands. She reached out and caressed his head, which in turn made Five suck in a sharp breath. “That, and your ability to jump through time.”

“Don’t touch him” he hissed. “Tell me what’s in it for me? Why would I go with you?”

“You could get out of this place for one” the woman sighed. “And also go back to your family if you complete five years with us.”

“You… you’re saying we could be free?” he asked, glancing behind the woman, right at your still sobbing form.

“Once you served five years, your contract will be done, giving you a chance to retire to the time and place of your choosing” she smiled tightly.

Five thought hard about all that this woman was talking about. This could be his chance to save you, to finally give you and your family the life you deserved. He could live comfortably with you, have the domestic life you wished for and grow old.

“What about my wife and son?” he asked, which seemed to annoy the woman.

“You can bring them with you” she said and he could hear the distaste in her tone. “So, do we have an agreement?” she offered her free hand.

Five looked at you, lowering his gun slightly. You looked so scared, for him and for your son. He never wanted to see you like that. He didn’t want you to suffer. He wanted to give the both of you a chance at a normal life.

He looked at his son, who was sniffling in the woman’s arm, clearly scared out of his mind. The poor boy didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be so traumatized by this post-apocalyptic world, by this woman, who threatened his life. He should be better off, in school, with food to fill his belly, clothes that fit him well and a roof over his head.

He will do this. For you. For Max. For his family.

“Fine” he put the gun down and approached the woman to shake her hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful!” the woman lightened up, letting Max out of her hold and shaking Five’s hand.

The moment your son was out of the woman’s hold, he collapsed, his legs giving out underneath him. But in the next moment, Five reached out for him, pulling him up and lifting him into his arms.

“We shall leave momentarily. We have a lot to do” the woman turned away and walked into the little camp to sit down.

The second she was out of sight, you rushed to Five and Max and collapsed with the two of them on the floor.

“Five” you sobbed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max, oh my poor boy.”

“Mommy, daddy” he cried, grabbing onto both of you.

“You’re safe now, you’re safe” Five tried to calm the young boy, who didn’t deserve all this. He pulled you in, close, so he could take in your features, making sure you were still there. “You’re both safe.”

The first day at the Commission consisted of Five being dragged away for orientation and basic training while you and Max were herded to a room to wait for someone who would show you to your new house. 

You didn’t have to wait long: a woman with black hair and wearing a skirt suit opened the door. She had a kind smile on her face, and though she looked different and kinder than the other woman was, you still grabbed onto Max tightly.

“Oh, don’t be afraid!” she said quickly, her voice light and sweet. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Dot, I work a desk job here. And I got the honor to show you to your new home!”

Still weary, but slightly comforted, you loosen your hold on your son, who looks at Dot in curiosity.

“I’m Y/n” you decide to introduce yourself. “And this is my son, Max.”

“Oh, what a cutie. How old is he?” her smile widens, a soft glow flashing in her eyes.

“He’s ten” you look down at him, still clutching your arm tightly.

“Aw, he looks a lot like Five. And his eyes! They look just like yours” she gushes.

“Thank you” you let yourself smile a little bit.

“Now, I’m sure you’re tired and in need of a good shower. Let us get going then.”

You nod, taking Max’s hand in yours and follow Dot out the door.

“We’re actually not far from the housing, you guys got a pretty adorable family home” she looked back at you as you walked through the entrance hall and then the doors.

It was a sunny day, colder than it was in the apocalypse, but the air was much fresher here. You didn’t know what year you were in or where you were for a fact. But you were just happy to be away from that hellhole.

“Do you know if…” you started and Dot looked back at you, curiously. “If that woman… will she bother us?”

“The Handler?” she asked and you shrugged. If that was her name… “Oh I don’t think she will. She only cares about agents, so you and Max should be fine.”

“And… and Five?” your heart raced. Was he in danger?

“That, I don’t know. I would assume no. She is a big fan of his, so if anything, she’ll make sure he’s fine” Dot hummed.

“Alright” you sigh.

Dot lead you through a small garden that was the Commission’s and you found yourself in view of a village-like assortment of houses. There were some smaller family homes and then there were a couple of huge buildings, which consisted of apartments.

“Do other agents have families?” you asked as you neared the main street.

“Field agents? No, most of them are either alone or only have a partner, no kids. But many of our people in filing or some of our security actually have families. Some smaller, some bigger” she explained.

You hummed and looked down at Max. Maybe he could make friends with other children. He wouldn’t have to be alone. And you could also meet some other moms…

You rounded a corner and found yourselves in a long street, filled with family homes and a playground.

“This is the street you will be living on” Dot smiled. “If you go down the road where we came, we actually have a clothing store and grocery store, so you can buy your own stuff. A bit further from the housing area, you can find an elementary school and a high school as well. Max will be enrolled by the end of the week. You’ll receive a mail from one of our staff.”

“He can go to school?” you asked, your heart picking up pace.

“Of course!” she smiled. “Only the best teachers there.”

“Oh” you nodded.

“Well, we arrived” she stopped in front of a beautiful blue house with white picket fence and a small garden. “Hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. Five will be here any time he is free or has his day off. But don’t worry, Mary, the woman who lives in the house beside yours, and her daughters Betty and Lily are excited to get to know you guys.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was great to meet you” she stepped back and waved.

“You too” you smiled and waited for Dot to disappear down the street before squatting down in front of Max. “Are you okay?”

“Yes Mama” he nodded and though you could see a little bit of worry in his gaze, he seemed to say the truth.

“Alright darling. Shall we see what’s inside?” you caressed his cheek and he nodded, gripping onto your hand.

You stepped up the few stairs to the front door. There was a key in the door, presumably the one you were meant to use later on. You took the keys out and opened the door.

It really was a small and cute home. Everything aesthetically arranged, the walls and floors in beautiful contrast. It was a wild change from the apocalypse, where everything was very yellow most days.

Across from the front door was a kitchen and dining room with a door to the family bathroom. On your right was the master bedroom, which was painted in a similar light blue as the outside was. To the left, there were two rooms, one the living room and the other a smaller bedroom.

“Look, I think that will be your bedroom” you pointed to the open door. “Do you want to see it?”

“My… my room?” Max looked up at you, confused. “I will sleep alone?”

“Yeah” you nodded.

“But… I don’t want to” the boy’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh darling” you pulled him in your arms. “You won’t be alone. We’ll be right across from your room. We won’t be far.”

“But at night…” he sniffled. “The monsters will come.”

“Your dad will keep you safe from them” you tried to calm him. “We’ll never let them hurt you.”

But Max was crying, inconsolably. You tried to think about what you could do. How could you help him? His sobs were twisting your heart and you felt as helpless as when the Handler arrived in the afternoon. Where you were unable to move, unable to help your little boy, who didn’t deserve all that. You could only imagine what was going through his head in that moment and now, hours after it.

“Tell you what. You can sleep with us for the first few weeks, okay?” you pulled away a little, looking into his eyes. “You can get used to your room during the day. Would that be alright, darling?”

“Y-yeah” he sniffled.

“Alright, now let’s get you cleaned up and some food in your tummy, okay?”

Max nodded, still rubbing at his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked into the dining room, where the door to the bathroom could be found. There was a shower and bath combination in the opposite corner, with some soap and shampoo. It was all neatly arranged and you once again felt that jarring feeling of everything being just… off. But you just took a breath and looked at Max.

“Do you need help or can you wash your body and hair alone?” you asked gently.

“I can do it” Max squared his shoulders, trying to appear strong and you smiled. “But…” he looked up at you. “Can you stay with me?”

“Yeah, of course. How about you take your clothes off and pee while mama goes and sees if there are some clothes in your room?” you suggested.

Max’s hold on your hand tightened for a second and you could see the conflict on his little face. But then he slowly nodded and let you go.

“Alright, I’ll be right back, okay? If you’re done, then stand in the shower.”

Max nodded, looking toward the bathtub. You quickly walked to the smaller room, leaving both doors open, so you could hear your son if he needed help. In the room there was a dresser and a single bed. It was clearly meant to be a kid’s bedroom, what with the wallpaper having dinosaurs and birds on it.

You looked in the dresser to see different sized clothes, both for boys and girls. You sighed in relief and grabbed two different sizes from underwear, pants and a t-shirt, not knowing which one will be good for Max. It’s been a long while since you saw new clothes and not to mention that you never had the luxury for Max to wear the right sized clothing.

“You’re in luck” you stepped back into the bathroom. “We got some clothes here. I brought you two sizes, we’ll see which one will be good” you smiled and watched as Max nodded, stepping into the shower. “I’ll help you adjust the water” you put the clothes down on the sink and reached out to the taps. “See, this has a red dot. It means it’ll give you hot water. And on the other side is a blue dot. It means cold water” you explained to him. “Hold your hand out, underneath the tap” you instruct him, kneeling next to the tub. “I’ll start the water, okay?”

Max nodded and squatted down, holding his hand under the water.

“Tell me if it’s too warm or too cold, okay? We’ll adjust it.”

With your help, Max got the right temperature and he - albeit a bit clumsily - washed as much of the dirt away as he could. You helped with his hair a bit, but otherwise just kneeled next to the tub, so he could do most of it himself.

“Alright. That feel okay?” you asked as you helped him out of the tub and gave him a towel.

“Weird” he said simply.

“I know darling. But now you’ll get used to it. It’s going to be all okay” you promised, drying his hair. “Should we see which clothes will fit you?”

Max nodded and so you picked up the smaller underwear first. To your surprise it slid on easily, even loose around his waist a bit. You knew that Max was a smaller kid then others his age might have been and that’s all thanks to the apocalypse. But you didn’t think he was this small.

“Should I see a smaller size still?” you asked him. “Or is that comfortable.”

“It’s okay mama” he shrugged.

“As you wish,” you sigh. “Are you feeling hungry?” you helped him into his pants and shirt as well.

“A bit” he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do” you smiled at him. “Why don’t you grab a book that looks interesting to you and we’ll practice your reading while I cook?”

Max nodded and walked toward the smaller bedroom, looking back at you, to make sure you were still there. When he was reassured, he quickly went in and took a book from the bookshelf. In an instant, he was back in the corridor and taking your hand.

“Well, come on, then” you smiled gently and went up to the counter.

Max sat down at the small circular table, opening the book he grabbed. You watched him flip to the first page and looked at the words. He knew how to read, you and Five taught him. But it took him a little time.

“The story of… Doctor… Do- Dolittle?” he pronounced it slowly, then looked up for confirmation. You smiled at him encouragingly. “The first… chapter. Pudd-puddle-puddleby. O-once upon a time, many… years ago…” Max started reading slowly.

As he read, you started to look through the pantry to see what could be used to make a meal. You didn’t really know how to cook, but thankfully there were some cookbooks that you could use.

You always wanted to get out of the apocalypse, but never imagined what you’d do once you’re out. You never wondered about some of the simple facts of a normal life. Like how to cook. But you were ready to learn. Anything really.

You and Max spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. He read slowly, page after page and you trying to put a meal together for your little family.

“Y/n, Max?” you heard the door opening and Five calling out to you.

“In the kitchen!” you called back just as Max sprang from his seat, running toward Five, yelling: “Daddy!”

You smiled as you walked toward them, seeing Five embrace the boy.

“Hey, little crumb. How was your afternoon?” he asked. “What did you do? Oh and what is that smell? Is that your hair?”

“Yeah! We showered! And daddy, you know, the soap smells so good!” Max rushed out.

“Does it now?” he smiled. “Well, I’ll have to see it for myself.”

“And I read a book about a magic doctor! He can talk to animals!”

“He can?” he laughed gently. “You’ll have to read it for me too, son.”

“C’mon!” Max stood up and pulled him toward the kitchen.

“Hey” Five smiled as he reached you.

“Hi, how was the orientation and training?” you asked, reaching out to him.

“Boring” he sighed and leaned over to peck your lips. “But I got my first assignment. I’ll be going there tomorrow.”

“For how long?” you asked, worried.

“Shouldn’t be long. It’s supposed to be part of the training, with a more experienced agent by my side, so maybe that day? Or two?” he guessed.

“Alright” you sighed.

“You’ll be alright?” he asked gently.

“I will” you nodded. “Just be careful.”

“I will” he promised.

You sighed and pulled away, turning to the stove, where the food was finishing cooking. As you prepared the plates, Max explained the plot of Dolittle to Five, excited about the story.

“Alright boys, it’s time to eat” you put their plates in front of them, full of warm food. “I hope it’s good.”

“I’m sure it is” Five smiled at you.

Truly, it was not so bad. It was definitely better than what you ate in the apocalypse, which was a relief. And even though you cooked the normal amount, there was so much left after you finished eating, you felt worried. You knew it would take time to get used to eating like normal humans, but you couldn’t help but worry about your son.

After dinner, you heard the clock chime loudly from the living room.

“What was that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh, they didn’t explain it to you?” Five looked at you. “In the evening and morning the clocks chime to signal the end and the beginning of the day. We’re supposed to go to bed.”

“Oh” you frowned. “Okay.”

“We’ll get used to it” he comforted and turned to Max. “Well, little crumb, could you show me which soap was so good smelling?”

“Yes!” he perked up and jumped off his chair. “Come on daddy!”

You smiled at the two of them before picking up the plates and washing them. You once again marveled about the way water felt on your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around the day you had. It was so far-fetched and such an outlandish idea, that your brain couldn’t accept it.

“Mama, could you read a bed-time story for me?” Max came to the kitchen, forcing you out of your thoughts.

“Sure thing, baby. Would you like me to read Dr. Dolittle?” you smiled gently.

“No” he shook his head. “I want to read it myself. Could you read something else?”

“Of course” you smiled. “Let’s go to the room and see what we have.”

You soon found a book called “The Wheel on the School”, which Max liked the sound of, so you gave it to him and turned around to look for some pajamas for him.

“What are you looking for, mama?” he asked curiously.

“Some pajamas” you looked back at him. “You know, when you go to sleep, you are supposed to wear some clean, comfortable clothes to bed” you explained to him.

“Oh.”

“Here you go, son” you gave him the pair you found.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“Will you wear pajamas?” he asked as you went to the master bedroom.

“Yes, but first I need to shower as well.”

“Okay…” Max nodded. “Will daddy stay with me until then?”

“Of course” you nodded. “Now get into bed, I’ll read to you, until daddy finishes showering.

Max climbed on top of the king-sized bed and lay down beneath the sheets, in the middle.

“Comfortable?” you asked and Max nodded. So you started reading to him.

When Five came out of the bathroom, he found the beautiful scene in front of him. Max, in the bed, lying sleepily beneath the sheets, fighting to keep his eyes open, and you, sitting in the armchair close to the bed, reading to him in a soft voice. Five’s heart jumped, filled with warmth and love. His little family, who survived so much and who deserved the world. The reason he was doing all of this.

You finished reading and put the book down, looking at your fast-asleep son. You smiled gently and walked over to him, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. Then you looked up at the door, where Five was standing. He was clean and shaven. You smiled at him and walked up to him.

“You look good” you said to him sincerely.

“Thank you” he smiled and put his hand on your waist, pulling you in. “I didn’t dare to shave it clean, so I left a little stubble.”

“It looks good” you leaned into him, putting your hand on his jaw. “It feels good.”

Five let out an airy laugh and hugged you properly. The day was crazy and he couldn’t be more thankful for your strong presence.

“I love you so much” he murmured.

“I love you more” you teased, pulling a bit away, so you could put your hand on his cheek again.

“Not possible” he smiled.

“Everything’s possible” you countered and then leaned in to kiss him.

He held you close, gripping your waist tightly. In the unfamiliar setting, he finally found something familiar: you. The way you taste was still the same, your lips reacting to his. He was glad to be kissing you once again.

“I wish…” you sigh against his lips.

“You wish?” he murmurs, not wanting to let you go.

“I wish we were alone now. If just for a moment” you finish your sentence, kissing him again. “But I need to shower and our son is lying in our bed.”

“Hm, maybe later then” he surmised.

“In a few weeks. He will get used to his own bedroom and then…” you smirked at him cheekily.

“Can’t wait” he smiled, warmth and passion glinting in his eyes.

A month later, Five finally got his first paycheck in his hands. And he couldn’t believe his eyes. When they said that the payout for a good performance was great, he thought that they would pay him good. But not this good! For weeks now he thought about what he could buy from the first paycheck. He could get more groceries, he could buy his son some clothes that would fit him and also could be his own choosing, he could buy you a beautiful dress, like the ones you fantasized about in the apocalypse and… Well… the most pressing one in his mind was a ring. So that you could wear the sign of your love.

And so, without much thinking, as his hours were done, he immediately blinked to the street of stores in the city. He found the jewelers and went in.

“Hi! I’m looking for wedding rings?” he smiled lightly.

⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎

You were in the kitchen, making a fruit salad when the door slammed.

“Max, I told you, be careful of the door!” you yelled out.

“Sorry mama,” he rushed in.

“How was school, dear?”

“Good! Bennet played with me in recess!” he beamed.

“Oh really? And what did you play?” you smiled and Max took a deep breath before he started gushing about his day in school.

True to Dot’s words, at the end of your first week in Temps, a letter arrived in your mailbox. In it, they stated that Max would join class 4/B, which is right in his age-group and well within his skillset. They also sent over some paperwork, essential for securing his identity as a citizen.

The first week in school was… trying to say the least. But thanks to Max’s good temperament, it became easier and easier each day.

Now, in the third week of school, Max was starting to make friends. The left side neighbor’s twin daughters Betty and Lily were also in Max’s class, so them, and now apparently Bennet as well, became fast friends.

It turned out that Betty and Lily’s mother, Mary, was working in a café on the street where the school was located, so after a couple hang-outs with the three of them: a deal was made. She would take the kids to school on most days, and when she wasn’t working, you would walk them.

Mary was also very helpful with understanding the town’s rules. The chimes from the clock in the morning and evening were only the beginning. There were also some other things like: lunch was strictly at 12pm, at 3pm you had to have a coffee break (or tea break for the kids) and chat with either your neighbors or your co-workers and also, there was a curfew of 8pm being the latest you could leave the house. You also couldn’t work into the night (the only exception being the night guards at the Commission building) and couldn’t leave your house before 7am. There were some others as well, but they were not essential to your days.

Now, after a month, you were finally starting to get used to Temps’ weird rules and even weirder people. Still, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief whenever 8pm rolled around and you could be alone in the privacy of your home with your husband and son.

“…And can you imagine? Bennet said it was such a cool game!” Max was still gushing about recess and you couldn’t help but smile.

Since he started eating more and healthier, he started growing. Not much in a month, but his clothes now fit perfectly on him and you didn’t have to fold the bottom of his pants up anymore. There was also a healthy glow to him, his hair becoming fuller and shining brighter. You were so glad to see the change.

“Honey, I’m home!” you heard Five call out to you and you smiled as Max’s rambling stopped and his eyes lit up.

“Daddy!” he ran to Five as he reached the kitchen door.

“Hi little crumb” Five smiled and squatted down to embrace him. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, the best!” Max beamed. “Bennet played with me in recess!”

“Oh really? Wow!” Five laughed, happy for his son. “That’s amazing, baby!”

“It was! And he invited me over for a sleepover!” he mentioned, which caused you to stop smiling and looked at Five, who also looked at you.

“Really? You haven’t said that yet” you put the spoon down into the bowl and walked to your boys. “Did he ask his mom?”

“He said he would once he got home” Max looked at you. “Mama, can I go?”

“I don’t know son, we haven’t talked to Bennet’s mom yet. We don’t know if she agreed to host the sleepover” you sighed and you could see Max’s face fall.

“Tell you what. If they show up, we’ll talk about it” Five tried to reassure the boy, but it didn't help much. He pulled away from both of you and turned to walk down the hall and into his bedroom.

You sighed again, sad to see your son so sad. Five stood up and you could see that he shared that compliment. But there truly was nothing you could do.

So you went back to mixing the fruit bowl together and Five went back to the door so he could take his shoes off before joining you in the kitchen.

“So, how was work today?” you asked.

“It was… fine” he shrugged. “I got my first pay-check.”

“Oh, yeah?” you looked up at him.

“Yeah and, I was surprised to say the least” Five sighed and got the paper out of his suit pocket. “Look at this” he walked up to you and showed you the paper. You almost dropped the bowl from your hands.

“What?!” you asked. “Is that real?”

“Apparently so” he nodded.

“Oh my God…” you blinked, looking up at him. “What do we even do with all that…”

“I don’t know” he sighed. “Well… this months’ I know, because I-”

But at that moment there was a knock from the door. You and Five looked at each other before walking up to the door. Through the glass, you could see a woman standing there. You looked at Five again before opening the door.

“Good afternoon” she greeted.

“Good afternoon” you greeted back with Five. “What can we help you with?”

“Oh my son, Bennet came home from school saying he wanted to invite Max around for a sleepover” she smiled.

“Oh, you must be Sharon!” you smiled at her. “I’m Y/n, and this is Five, my husband.”

Bennet peeked out from behind her and looked up at you.

“Good afternoon” he said shyly.

“Hi, Bennet” you smiled at him as well, then looked up at Sharon. “Would you like some fruit salad? I just finished making it.”

“Thank you so much” she nodded and followed you inside.

“Five, would you be so kind and tell Max that his friend is here?” you looked at him and he nodded. You reached up to take five small bowls out and turned back to Bennet and Sharon. “Bennet, a fruit salad?”

“Yes, thank you” he said just in time when Max came bounding out of the room.

“Bennet!” he shouted happily. “Good afternoon Mrs Meyer.”

“Hi Max” she smiled and let the boys sit together.

“Sharon, a fruit salad?” you looked at her.

“Thank you, I’ll take one” she agreed and you put some of the fruit salad in her bowl as well before placing it in front of the two guests.

“Max, Five?” you asked.

“Yes, thank you mama!” Max agreed loudly, while Five just nodded.

“Here you go, boys” you gave one to each of them. “So, Sharon. You were saying?”

“Bennet wanted Max over for a sleepover” she started. “I have no objections to Max spending the night if you are okay with it as well.”

“Yes, we…” Five started before rethinking his choice of words. “What I mean is, as you know Max had a difficult time adjusting to being away from us at night. We don’t wish to give you any trouble, should he get scared and decide that being houses away from us is too much.”

“I promise daddy, I won’t!” Max immediately said. “I’ll be good!”

“I have no doubt about that, sweetheart. We just don’t want you to feel scared.”

“But mama…” he looked at you sadly.

“How about we put down some ground rules?” Sharon suggested.

“What do you suggest?” Five asked.

So in over an hour, you talked it all out. You agreed that she could take the boys and there wouldn’t be a word about disobeying the Meyer parents’ words. If that would happen, they couldn’t go over to the other’s house for a week. The boys thought that over and then agreed.

“Max, come with me, we’ll put your clothes together” you told your son.

He eagerly followed you to his room, jumping around as he watched you grab a bag from the top of the dresser. You told him what to grab and he rushed to find it and give it to you. You neatly folded them into his overnight bag and once everything was in, you zipped it in and grabbed his hands.

“Listen son, this is the first time you’ll be away from us at night” you started. “But I want you to enjoy this. If you find yourself afraid, remember: mommy and daddy will always protect you. There’s nothing that can harm you” you told him and he nodded slowly. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, mama” he smiled and let you pull him in for a hug. You pressed a kiss to his head and smiled at him.

“Alright,” you stood up and walked out with him to the kitchen. “We’re ready.”

“Well, thank you so much for the fruit salad, it was really good” Sharon stood up, Bennet coming up beside her.

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Hargreeves!” he beamed.

“You’re very welcome. And Sharon, thank you so much for letting the boys have this sleepover. If this goes well, the next one is on us.”

Sharon nodded and herded the boys outside. You stopped in the doorway and Five came up to hug you from behind. You watched as Bennet and Max excitedly chattered, happy to spend time together. Five pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder as you sighed, filled with worry.

Though Max looked engrossed in his conversation with Bennet, he thankfully looked back at you two and waved goodbye. You forced a smile and waved back. You stayed out until the Meyers’ car disappeared from view and then Five gently led you back inside.

“It’s going to be okay, my love” he said gently, hand around your waist and his other hand leading you. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know” you sighed, sitting on the couch with him. “I’m just worried.”

“I know, darling” he pulled you in his arms, holding you close. “But look at the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“He felt up to going. Remember the first week? He couldn’t even let you go to the bathroom alone. Now he’s finally healing” he explained.

“You’re right” you nodded. “Still, it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“And it doesn’t have to. You’re his mom, of course you worry about him” he reassured you. “How about I take your mind off of it?”

“What do you have in mind?” you looked at him.

“Remember our wedding?” he pulled a bit away from you and turned you to face him.

“How could I forget?” you smiled.

“Well, we’ve been married for… about fifteen years.”

“Yeah?” you blinked. “It’s been that long?”

“Yeah” he chuckled. “And I finally bought the one missing thing from that day.”

“You did?” your heart picked up speed.

“I did” he pulled the box out of his pocket. “It’s not exactly what I imagined… and I wish we could’ve chosen it together, but… I just wanted to surprise you” he opened the box and the sight of the two golden rings in it made tears spring in your eyes.

“Oh Five” you sobbed, reaching a shaky hand out to cover his own.

“Do you like it?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.

“They’re perfect” you sniffled, smiling through your tears. “God, they’re so perfect.

“I’m glad you think so” he smiled sweetly and reached into the box, picking up the smaller ring. “May I?” he asked, holding his free hand out.

You nodded and offered him your right hand. He pulled it on your finger, then raised it up to kiss it. You sniffled as he reached his hands out to wipe your fingers.

“My beautiful bride, the gorgeous mother of my child” he murmured. “Thank you so much for staying with me.”

You sniffled, trying to keep your sobs and tears in. You reached shakily for the other ring and took Five’s right hand in yours.

“You’re the love of my life” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “I love you so much” you pushed the ring up on his ring finger gently, putting your own right hand next to it. “I can’t believe we finally have these…”

“I couldn’t be happier” Five turned his right hand and took your hand, caressing your knuckles.

“I’m so happy” you agreed, wiping your tears and looking up at him. “Thank you. For everything you do for us.”

“I love you” he replied.

“I love you too” and finally Five leaned in and kissed you.

It was so soft, so full of love, you couldn’t comprehend how there could be so much love. But you just pulled him closer, your hand going up to his soft hair, grabbing a fistful of it. His hands went to your waist and pulled you in his lap oh so gently.

“Five…” you breathed into his mouth, trying to convey the message you couldn’t form with words.

“Y/n…” he sighed, pulling your lips back on his, while guiding his hand holding your waist down to your ass, so in the next moment he could stand up with you in his arms.

You yelped, but then you were back to kissing him, letting his tongue in your mouth as he walked with you toward your bedroom. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing your bodies together. You were in the bedroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, the door slamming shut behind you.

The sixth month of your stay at Temps became a huge deal. Not only was it a really long time that you could stay in one place and be perfectly comfortable, but also it became a big milestone in your lives.

Around the fourth month of staying in Temps, you found out something really big. Like huge. It wasn’t something you were expecting or hoping for, but you were still really happy. You still remember talking about this with Five.

“So… uh, Five?” you started the conversation one night after you put Max down to sleep.

“Yeah?” he looked at you, climbing into bed and pulling you in close.

“You know when we were talking about Max, way back when…” you tried to find the right words.

“Back when…” he tried to urge you on with your explanation. “In the apocalypse?”

“Yeah…” you nodded into his shoulder, trying to contain your anxiety mixed with excitement. “Specifically when he was just a little toddler.”

“Hm, still not sure which conversation you refer to” he hummed.

“Well it wasn’t just that one time we talked about this. But that was the first time. Actually we talked a lot about this, all things considered” you explained vaguely.

“Is it about his normal life?” he asked.

“No- well partly” you agreed.

“So… what is it, Y/n?” he caressed your shoulder.

“Okay, okay” you got up suddenly, kneeling beside him. “So… things have been going better for us, right?”

“Yeah” he nodded, turning to his side to look at you properly.

“And we’re no longer in the apocalypse…”

“Thankfully.”

“And, well… I know it’s a bit late and Max is so old now, but…” you stopped for a second, not sure if Five will be happy.

“But…?” he was holding his breath now, you could tell.

“I’m- I’m pregnant” you finally blurted it out.

For a moment there was silence. You could see the wheels turning in Five’s head. Then he was up on his knees as well.

“Are you serious?” he asked, shocked.

“Y-yeah” you nodded, afraid of his reaction.

“You’re really, really serious?” he grabbed onto your hands.

“Yes. Are you-” but you couldn’t even finish your question because Five grabbed you by your sides, pulling you close and squeezing you.

“You’re really pregnant” he whispered, though you couldn’t decide whether it was a question or a statement.

“Yeah” you whispered back, still a little confused about his reaction being happy or not so much.

“Oh my God…” he breathed out and that’s when you became aware of his shaking body and the sudden wetness at your neck, where Five buried his head.

You finally smiled and let yourself get lost in Five’s warm embrace and pure love.

And since then you tried to figure out Max’s stance on siblings. You haven’t popped yet, so you could hide it from him, even if that made you feel bad. You never really had secrets in front of Max, especially not big ones that concerned his future as well.

But you heard enough horror stories about kids reacting badly about a new addition to the family before, so you wanted to be prepared. You didn’t want Max to feel like he’s loved less just because there will be a baby in the house. And though you didn’t ask him right out about siblings, there were a number of ways you deduced whether or not Max was ready for a baby sibling.

Today, you noticed in the morning, while you were getting dressed, that your stomach seemed a lot… bigger. It took only a second to realize what happened: you popped. So it was time.

By some twist of fate, it was Five’s day off. And so, immediately as you noticed, you stalked out into the kitchen, where he prepared morning coffee and breakfast.

“Five” you whispered. It was still early in the morning and you didn’t want to wake Max up.

“Yes, my love?” he asked, looking up from his book.

“I popped!” you smile at him, turning to the side, so he could see the big change in your figure.

“Oh my God!” he put his book down, eyes filled with wonder. “You really did!”

He stood up from his seat and walked to you, so he could caress over the bulge of your stomach. You were looking up at his face, seeing him so focused on your belly, eyes full of wonder and love.

“You’re so amazing” he whispered, his free hand going around your waist and pulling you close.

“No, you are” you smiled, lifting his chin with a hand. “Without your hard work, we wouldn’t be here, safe. But thanks to you, Max could heal, we could build a life and also,” you put your hand on his, that was still caressing your baby bump, “expand our little family.”

Five smiled at you gratefully, then leaned in to kiss your lips sweetly. He pulled your robes in again, when he suddenly heard shifting from Max’s room and smiled at you encouragingly.

“Today’s the day.”

“Yeah” you sighed and sat down at the table, grabbing one toast from the pile.

The next moment, Max’s door opened and your son stumbled out, completely out of it from sleep. You smiled at his sleepy face and the way he sluggishly walked toward you and Five.

“Hey there, little crumb” Five smiled, embracing his son when he reached him. “How did you sleep?”

The only answer was a little grunt, which made both Five and you giggle lightly. Contrary to you and Five, Max was not a morning bird. While both you and Five got out of bed easily in the mornings, on most days you had to practically drag your son out.

“Darling, come, there is breakfast here for you” you said gently and pulled a chair out for your son to sit down on. “How about some milk, would you like some?”

Max nodded slowly and sat down next to you. You got up to grab the milk, pouring some for the young boy.

“Here you go” you smiled at him.

Breakfast went by in silence, Max waking up more and more as he ate. Soon, he was starting to chit-chat about the weekend and how you could go to the playground.

“We can, right?” he looked at the two of you and you shared a look with your husband.

“Not right now, son” Five put a hand on his smaller one. “Actually, mama and I want to talk to you.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, immediately scared about being told off.

“No, no” you said quickly, placing a hand on his other hand. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. There’s just something that’s… Well…”

“There will be some changes in our lives…” Five helped you out. “Soon.”

“What changes?” Max looked between you.

“Well… you know how mama has been feeling unwell for the past few weeks?”

“Is… is mama sick?” Max turned to you, his eyes filling with tears.

“No darling, I’m very healthy” you smiled gently at him. “The sickness has been caused by something else” you thought for a moment on how to approach the subject. “You know Betty and Lily, how they’re sisters?” Max nodded. “They were born on the same day. But you can have siblings a few years in-between.”

“Like Dean and Paul?” he asked, referring to his classmate, who had a younger brother.

“Yes, like Dean and Paul” you nodded.

“What we’re trying to tell you is that mama is now…” Five started. “Well, mama is carrying a baby. In her stomach.”

“What?” Max looked at you, his brain working overtime.

“Yeah, darling” you moved a bit around the table, so he could see your midsection and you opened your robes. “I’m pregnant.”

Max blinked a couple times, reaching out to touch your stomach as if not trusting his eyes. “There’s a baby in there?”

“Yeah” Five nodded.

“And… he is going to be my little brother?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Or sister, we don’t know their gender yet” you smiled. “Are you happy?”

At that question Max’s eyes filled with tears and moved in to hug you. He was gentle, steering clear from your belly. There, he nestled his face into you and nodded a little.

Around your one year mark of staying at Temps, you were about ready to pop. You ached everywhere, your feet were swollen and you were constantly tired. It was no longer fun being pregnant.

But in hindsight, it was a better pregnancy than it was with Max. There were obvious differences and not just because you were in an apocalypse then. Your stomach was bigger and rounder than it was with him and also, your feet had swollen more.

You were ready for the baby, more so than you were when you learned that Five was going on a longer mission in a few days.

“Come on, baby. I don’t want your father missing your arrival” you groaned as you tried to get off of the couch in the afternoon. “He deserves to be there to greet you. Please.”

But the only thing you can do is wait. Wait for the baby to feel ready. Your doctor said that from the 38th week, it can happen any day. And you couldn’t be more happy about that fact. You were ready for them to arrive.

But they didn’t arrive that day. Nor the next one. And Five’s departure for his mission just kept crawling closer.

“Don’t worry” Five tried to placate you every night. “They’ll be here soon. And I’ll be right by your side.”

You talked to Mary about this as well. She was nice enough to offer Max a place to stay, should your labor start during the day. Which was also a big question mark in your head.

“What if my water breaks during the night? After the curfew starts? What then?”

“Well…” Five looked up from where he was massaging your feet. “I helped deliver Max, so I don’t think we’re in any danger.”

“Yeah, but what if you’re gone by the time this little one decides to come to the world?” you huffed.

“That won’t happen” Five got up and leaned over the armchair to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”

“I hate this” you pouted.

“I know” he smiled gently and then went back to massaging your swollen feet.

On the last day, you start feeling worse. In the morning, you found some weird substance in your underwear, which at first weirded you out, then realized that it was probably related to your pregnancy. Your doctor was on a day off, so you couldn’t go in, but you could go to the payphone at the end of the street and call them.

They told you, after explaining what happened, that that was a good sign. Your labor was finally approaching. It still could be days but it could be only hours. They also told you to call them if any more advancements are made.

The whole day, you barely got anything done. You tried to do something as simple as sweeping the floor, but your back started aching almost instantly. You did manage to make some warm food for dinner, when your two boys showed up.

“Hi mama” Max came home first, but only a couple minutes before Five showed up.

“Hi darling” his smooth voice called from the hallway. “What did the doctor say?”

“To call them when my water breaks” you sighed, rubbing at your lower stomach.

Five hummed and came up to press a kiss to your cheek, then to Max’s, who was sitting beside you, caressing your stomach.

“The baby doesn’t move as much” Max voiced his sorrow.

“They’re sleeping more” you explained. “They’re getting ready to see you.”

“Really?” he looked up at you.

“Really” you smiled gently.

Time ticked by, slowly, even as you wished it would rush. You were in so much discomfort, you really wished that time would pass, so you could just FINALLY-

In that moment, a weird sensation ran through you and you felt a warm sensation run down your legs. Looking down, you saw that your previously dry pants were no longer dry.

Breathing hard and slightly panicked, you yelled out: “Five!”

In just a fraction of a second, Five blinked next to you and grabbed your hand, looking frantic.

“What happened?” he asked, clearly just as panicked as you.

“My… my water just broke!” you told him, still in shock. “What- what do we do?”

“Uh…” Five looked up at the clock. It was 7pm. He could try calling your doctor, but it was unlikely that they would be able to come and it was an hour til curfew. “Shit… I’ll go call the doctor, you… just try to breathe and lie down.”

He quickly made your bed, heaping the pillows, so you would be in a half-sitting, half-lying down position. He helped you lie down and then blinked into Max’s room, where he was reading his favorite book. Soon, Max was knocking on your bedroom door and then peeking his head in.

“Mama?” he asked, looking slightly scared.

“Hey darling” you breathed out, wincing at a sudden pain in your lower stomach.

“Is the baby coming?” he walked up to the bed.

“Yeah, I think they want to” you sighed.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah” you nodded, not wanting to lie. “It hurts really badly. But don’t worry, they’ll be here soon and it won’t hurt anymore.”

“Can I help?” he asked, ever the caring little boy.

“You could bring me a glass of water while daddy gets back” you smiled at him as gently as you could.

Max nodded and rushed out to fill a glass with fresh water. He was soon back, giving it to you.

“Thank you darling” you sighed as you took a couple sips.

Five was back within a couple minutes, but not with good news.

“I reached the doctor, but they can’t come” he sighed, frustrated. “He said your delivery could be an hour from now or even 24.”

“Oh God…” you sighed, dropping your head back down. “So I’ll just suffer here?”

“I’m here with you. We’ll get through this” Five took your hand gently in his, then looked back at your son, who was waiting by the bedside table, tears in his eyes. “Max, darling, I think you should go to bed. Mama will be alright” he said gently.

“But I don’t want to leave her. She’s hurt” he sniffled.

“Darling…” Five walked to him, but you interrupted him.

“Let him be here” you told him. “But Max, you have to do what daddy tells you, while you’re here, okay? Once the baby starts coming, mama will be in a lot of pain and you can’t stand in daddy’s way.”

“I promise to be a good boy” he nodded eagerly. “Please, daddy.”

“Fine” Five sighed. “I’ll get some towels.”

Your labor advances quite slowly and every half an hour you get up to walk around with Five’s help. You couldn’t be happier that he was there with you. And Max, he seemed to grow up quite a lot in the hours since your labor started. You of course wished you could spare the young boy from seeing you in pain, but you also didn’t want him to have to be scared in his room as he heard you scream through your delivery.

Which he instead got to experience right by your side. Though Five told him that he didn’t have to take your hand as you couldn’t control how tightly you hold onto it, he did anyway. His eyes were filled with tears, but he didn’t let go of your hand as you delivered the baby, his sibling.

It was quite a shorter process than it was with Max, but somehow more painful. But that all washed away, when Five finally handed them to you.

“It’s a little girl” Five said, tears in his eyes, looking at the crying baby. “I’m so proud of you, darling” he leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead.

You sobbed as you held your little girl close, so small and fragile. Five disappeared into the bathroom to wash all the blood and other fluids away from his hands and arrived back to seeing Max on the side of the bed, looking down at his sister.

“She’s so tiny” he said quietly.

“Yeah. But you were smaller” you smiled at him.

“Really?” he blinked, his eyes big.

“Yes” Five agreed, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning up the area. “Max, how is your hand?”

The little boy seemed to only just notice his hand, too preoccupied by his sister. He lifted it and showed the red marks on it, that resembled your fingers.

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry” you teared up again. “Mama didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay mama” he smiled. “It hurts, but you were hurt more.”

“You’re such a strong kid” Five praised him, kissing his head. “But come on, I’ll get some ice on that for you.”

“But mama…” he started, but then just nodded.

Once things calmed down, Max was sitting on one side of you and Five the other. You looked at your husband.

“What do you think her name should be?”

“I was kind of thinking about flowers…” he hummed.

“What about Penny though?” Max chimed in, looking at his baby sister in your arms.

“Penny? Why Penny?” you asked him gently.

“I don’t know” he shrugged.

“Well, I like Penny” Five agreed with his son. “Not my first idea, but I like the name.”

“I do too” you nodded, smiling down at your sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Penny.”

Days, months, years passed in Temps as your little family grew. Max was now 13 and baby Penny 2. They were the bestest friends, even when Max’s temper got the best of him. He was going into puberty, his hormones working more and more. But the one thing he never did was hurt his baby sister, no matter what. He was gentle with her at all times.

Five was working hard. Not just with the Commission jobs, but with the equations to get you back to 2019, back to his family. He was getting closer and closer to the answer every day, but didn’t know how close.

One day though, when he was waiting to finish his work for that day, he looked through his book again. There it was. The answer. His heart beat fast as he stared at the book. He could finally… they could finally go…

But before he could think more about it, he had to finish the job and get back home as soon as he could. He needed to see Y/n, the kids. So for the next few minutes, with his heart beating fast, he waited with bated breath, keeping his gun trained on where the target would be. It was only minutes, but he felt like hours passed. He never thought time could pass by so slow.

And when the job was finally done, he wasted no time in jumping back to the Commission, passing his briefcase down and blinking into your home.

“Y/n, get the kids, we’re going” he yelled immediately, pulling his book out.

“Going? Where?” you asked from the kitchen, where you were feeding baby Penny.

“Back to my family” he said lowly when he reached the kitchen. “Come on, before they realize what I’m planning.”

“Okay” you breathed out, anxiety coursing through your veins. You put the bowl from your hands and picked her up from the highchair. “Max!” you yelled from your son as you followed Five to the living room.

“Yeah?” he called from his room.

“Come on, put your shoes on. We’re going home.”

“Home? We are…” Max stopped as he realized you didn’t mean this home. You meant the home in another time. Without another word, he put his shoes on, also picking up baby Penny’s shoes and your own as well. “Here you go, mom.”

“Thank you” you smiled thankfully at him, taking Penny’s shoes first.

“Stand by the door. This portal will be big” Five instructed, stepping back as well, his hands curling into fists.

Max took Penny from your hands so you could pull your own shoes up. The living room was suddenly lit in a blue light and you could hear Penny coo at it.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Max asked and gave her back, when you finished tying your shoes.

Suddenly there was a… fire extinguisher? flying through the portal and you only just pulled Max out of the way from it.

“Woah…” Max looked at the objects now rolling on the floor.

“Take my hand” Five suddenly yelled, reaching back for Max. “And take your mother’s.”

Max immediately took yours in his right then Five’s in his left hand. “Dad…” he didn’t, couldn’t say more, but Five looked at him.

“It’s gonna be alright” he said as gently as he could.

With that, you all took a step forward, holding each other’s hands. Going through the portal felt like wading through thick mud, the energy around you almost forcing you back. But your strong hold on each other didn’t let it.

Soon you were falling, your hand letting go of Max’s as you curled your arms around Penny, to protect her from the fall. Five did the same thing with Max and you all landed in a heap.

Groaning, you got off of Five, Penny safe in your arms. Five stood up as well, looking at Max who was…

“Mama?” the word made you turn to… little Max.

“What…” you blinked, looking at your husband, who was…

“Does anyone see little Number Five and other kids, or is that just me?” a guy asked from your right, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Five.

“Five…” you whispered, confused and shocked, bouncing a crying baby Penny in your arms.

“Y/n…” he looked you up and down, then himself as well. “Shit…”

[Part 1] [Masterlist] [Part 3]

Taglist: @snixx2088, @piopoi87, @izzyj12119, @groovydazephantom

[carlsangel]

MY PARENTS’ RINGS

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl have been “married” since childhood.)

tags: flufffff, slight angst, mentions of death.

masterlist here!

You’ve known Carl since you were born. Your moms were bestfriends from high school who’d miraculously gotten pregnant around the same time which, naturally, made you best friends as well. You can’t remember your guys’ first play date, you’d been having sleepovers with him every weekend as well.

Around kindergarten, there was an activity in class where you guys could make jewelry. Carl at the time was completely in love with you, although then you weren’t particularly interested in boys and were more interested in exploring and adventures, you needed someone to go on adventures with.

So, when he’d walked up to you on the playground with the ring he made very poorly, your five year old brain knew exactly where it was going. He proposed to you right there in the pokey wood chips under the slide which by the way was covered in cobwebs. How romantic. You thought that if he’d gone on many adventures with you previously, if he was your husband he’d be forced to be your adventure partner. So you said yes. On the condition he’d be by your side for all your escapades. “Anything for you angel.” He responded.

He held you to it, too. He’d continue to call you his wife and angel, a nickname that’d stick for the rest of your childhood. Everyone knew how much he’d loved you and how much he protected you from anything that could possibly harm you in any way. There was a spider in your room? He’d kill it. Someone was bothering you? He’d help you work it out. You got in an argument with your parents? He was close enough with them to argue with them for you. You ended up helping him through the death of his own father who was also someone you’d looked up to for a long time.

Then, the apocalypse started. You were at Carl’s house with Lori when Shane had arrived to round everyone up. They’d return back to your house to rally up your parents but when Shane went inside to get them, you heard his gun go off a couple times.

He walked out that house alone with a big frown on his face.

So you sobbed the whole time and Carl cuddled your side, holding your hand and occasionally shed some tears. He helped you process it, granted you both were ten but he knew what it was like to lose a parent. When Rick came back, he apologized oddly enough. “Angel…I’m sorry my dad came back.” He told you as you hid in the blanket on your cot that was set up in the Grimes’ tent. You flipped over on your side to look at him. “Why did yours get to come back and not mine?”

Your guys’ “marriage” hit a rough patch to say the least. At some point, Carl walked up to Rick with the dilemma. “My wife is mad at me…how do you make mom feel better?” He asked. Rick informed Lori on the situation and she helped you understand. So from there you dropped your little grudge and realized that you loved Carl back. It only took you maybe five years and yeah you were quite young to know you loved him the way you did, but he was the only person in your life who’d stay consistent; even with the world dying.

A good amount of time had passed, when Shane died the first thing you wanted to do was take anything he possibly had on him. So, you took his 22 necklace and his jacket. Handling his dead body that young wasn’t ideal but you needed to remember him. You shoved his necklace in your pockets and threw his jacket on before escaping from the walkers flooding into the farm.

Upon finding safety, you pull out Shane’s necklace to discover he’d kept your parents rings on his necklace. You didn’t say anything about it, you hid them for the right time. He’d notice them later but he kept quiet about it.

You’d gone through the prison, then Terminus. It felt like Carl had never stopped touching you throughout everything. He was holding your hand or maybe even had his hand gripping your thigh. He’d reassure you by holding you or kissing your cheek repeatedly. He made sure you were well fed while you and the group were on the road after losing Beth. “Here, Angel, take this.” He handed you half of his granola bar.

“Angel, need some water to wash that down?” Abraham nudged a water bottle your way, Carl looked at him funny which caught a couple people’s attentions. Abraham looked around. “What?” He questioned. No one really responded but Tara spoke up, clearing her throat awkwardly before speaking. “I’ve uh…I’ve learnt that ‘Angel’ is just a Carl thing.” She explains. Abraham processes and Rick sort of laughs. “Yeah I’ve known her since she’s was born…he won’t even let me call her that either.” He looks to Carl with a teasing smile, prompting the others to sort of smirk and giggle themselves. “Well my apologies.”

Carl gives Abraham a forgiving nod.

Getting to Alexandria was like a breath of fresh air. You and Carl were able to be somewhat of a normal teenage couple who could go on dates and make out in places they shouldn’t. He helped ease your nerves with the new environment, despite his own considering he didn’t know how real Alexandria really was.

He’d fallen more and more in love with you. At some point he’d brought up your kindergarten marriage.

“Do you remember when you said yes when I proposed to you in kindergarten?” He smiled at you as you leaned your head on his shoulder. The two of you were stargazing on a bench by Alexandria’s pond. “Yeah you’ve never let me forget it.” You respond with a small giggle. He pulled back to look at you. “Well I was thinking…with the way the world is and everything.” He chuckles nervously, looking down at your hands which were tightly gripping each other’s, “Maybe we can really be married.”

He stared at you, anticipating your answer. “Well, I dunno what you mean, we’ve been married this whole time.” You say sort of jokingly, causing him to smile, “I think you just mean official rings. I mean we’ve held the label this whole time. Not to mention you’ve stuck to your vows.” You remind him of how he’d promised to stick with you throughout everything. He nods for a moment, his eyes lingering on your face as he admires how beautiful you are in the light of the pretty moon. “Official rings would be nice.”

Without another word, you pulled your hand away, causing Carl’s expression to drop a tad as you dig into your pocket. Your hand comes back out of your jeans in a fist and you stick your hand out, gesturing for him to put his own out. He places his hand out flat and you drop two rings, the metals knocking into each other with a small clink as he looks into your eyes. “Wait really? Aren’t these…” His voice trails off and he looks at you intently.

“My parents’ rings.”

There’s a moment of silence before you take your dad’s ring from his palm and take his left hand, slipping it gently onto his ring finger. It fit perfectly, almost like it was fitted to him. He looks at it for what felt like ages before taking your mother’s ring in his hand. He gently held your left hand, sliding it on to your ring finger. The two of you put your hands between your bodies and just stare.

He tilts his head back up to look at you and before you could fully look at him he kissed you, gently holding the side of your face while he did so.

It was one of the thousands of kisses he’d given you, but this one was different.

Maybe you could go on honeymoon.

a/n: so anon actually wanted this full of fluff but i couldn’t help myself with some parts of angst LMAOOO sorry anon i hope u still like it. i actually think this is the cutest fucking thing i’ve written in a long ass time I LOVEEE IT SM!!! also for those who’ve been waiting for let me make it up to you part two THAT SHITS BEEN OUT idk not as many ppl saw it and there’s sm smut in that shit >_< anyway thank u sm for this cute ass request it was so fun to write and it got me out of my writing funk :)))

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

[daydreams-after-dark]

Haii babes

Hear me out okay. Younger neighbor living next to DILF Chan and he's having a BBQ with all his middle aged friends like Minho, Changbin and Han and he invited you over. Obviously you have to dress your best (to get fucked) and it turns into a gun activity amongst the 5 of you 😫. PLEASE IM DYING ABOUT THIS

Holy shit! This ask came in and it instantaneously unlocked something in me! I was about to go out and meet a friend for coffee and the whole drive over I was thinking about channie and his friends fucking reader!!!

The idea of middle aged Chan and his friends, using younger reader like a little whore has got me rather turned on. Maybe it’s the voyeur in me wanting to see her getting absolutely ruined by the mature men? I don’t know and I’m not going to question it.

I just want to write something downright filthy (because this is the after dark blog). 😈😈💀💀

Just to clarify, the asks is meant to say “fun activity” not “gun.”

Oh and I just have to mention that this is basically 3Racha plus Minho…. Which I’ve always said is my ultimate dream! 🫠🫠🫠🫠 i'M SUCH SLUT FOR THEM!!

Ready? Here we go. Buckle up, it’s going to be pure filth!

CW: age gap - chan and co are in their forties (but very energetic) and reader is 22, implied consent, objectification, praise, name calling, unprotected vaginal and anal sex, double pen two holes, gangbang, blow jobs, cum eating (m and f), cream pie, slapping, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, nipple play., videotaping

Your neighbour, Chan, is a filthy man. At first glance he is quite polite, very good looking, and a wonderful resident of the neighbourhood. But it's just an act. You know this from the way he sits on his upstairs balcony watching you whenever you sunbathe in your backyard.

It feels thrilling knowing he's watching, and the next time you sit in your backyard to sunbathe, you take your bikini off entirely. He doesn't even pretend he’s not looking.

You wonder if he'd come over and fuck you if called out to him? Probably. He seems like that kind of man.

One glorious spring day, Chan invites you over for an evening barbeque. "I'm having a small gathering of a few of my close friends, and they'd love to meet you." he smiles kindly, crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. But there's a deviousness behind them.

"Of course! I'll be there."

From what you’ve seen, his friends are hot too, and so of course you're ringing Chan's doorbell in your shortest sundress, tiniest panties, and tallest heels you own, balancing a platter of finger food in your hand.

“Y/n! Thank you for coming. Everyone has been waiting for you.” He guides you through his home to a closed in outdoor entertaining area at the back of the house.

“These are my friends.” He gestures to the three men sitting in outdoor couches around a low coffee table.

“This is Changbin, Han and Minho.”

You smile and wave at each of the men, exchanging pleasantries.

There are snacks spread out on the table in front of them, along with empty glasses. “Chan, shall I help poor drinks?” You offer. He smiles and tells you where to find the wine.

As you go retrieve the bottle of wine you take a moment to catch your breath. They are all so fucking handsome. You think to yourself, and you’re glad you decided to dress cute-slash-slutty.

“Here she is.” Smiles Chan as you walk back out.

“Drinks, boys?” You chime, holding up the wine, and all four men hold their empty glasses ready for you. You make your way around, being sure to bend over and stick out your ass to give each of the other men a view up your short dress, whilst smiling innocently at the man you were pouring a drink for.

You hear a few mumbled “fucks” and you know they’re eyes are glued to your ass cheeks poking out from underneath the dress.

“Y/n. You should come sit down. Take a seat.” said Chan.

You stand up and look around, but there isn’t a chair or space for you to sit.

“I think Chan means go take a seat on his lap, princess.” The one named Minho chuckles.

You turn to Chan who’s sitting with his legs wide and his arms outstretched along the back of his chair.

Oh. That’s exactly what he means. You can see it written on his smug face.

Quietly, you make your way over to Chan and carefully perch yourself across his lap.

He sucks in a breath and wraps an arm around your back. His other hand comes to your knee and squeezes it gently. “I was just telling the guys about what you and I get up to on the weekend.” He smirks.

“W-what do you mean?” You ask.

“Oh you know perfectly well, babygirl.” He says sternly. “How you put yourself on display for me.” He inhales the skin on your neck, causing you to shudder. “And they want you to show them what you show me.”

You look around at the men. Han is snacking on some crisps like this is an everyday situation, Changbin has the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, and Minho looks like he wants to eat you.

You gulp.

Chan slowly unzips the back of your dress and pulls the sleeves down your arms until your tits spill out. He immediately attached his mouth to a nipple, then he pulls off with a loud pop. “So young. So supple.” He says approvingly groping at your breast.

“How old are you, y/n” Changbin asks curiously.

“T-twenty two.” You squeak.

“Perfect age.” He licks his lips.

“Old enough to fuck rough, and young enough to teach a lesson.” Minho stated.

“Hear that, babygirl? They want to play with you.” He whispers low.

Fuck! You bite your lip and grind ever so slightly on Chan’s thigh. He notices the small action. “You like that idea, don’t you? You gonna be our little whore for tonight?”

His hand slides up your dress to find your soaking panties. “Thought so.” He chuckles, pulling them to the side and pushing a finger into you.

“Fuck! Oh god… Chan.” You choke as he thrusts his fingers into your tight wet cunt.

“Hmmm… I think you mean daddy.” He corrects you. “Now bend over. You deserve a slap for that insolence.”

You looked at him questioningly, and the other men snicker.

“I said bend over, you need to be spanked.”

You move to lay across his lap, and Chan lifts your dress to reveal your ass.

"Hmm, scrumptious piece of meat." ogles Changbin.

"Bin, pass me the cheese knife...thanks, mate."

Your eyes squeeze tight and your breath hitches as he carefully traces the knife up the back of your thigh, before using it to slice your tiny little panties right off.

He tosses the knife back on the table and spreads your cheeks so the other three can see your glistening pussy.

"She looks like she'll be really tight." mumbled Han, his mouth full of food. "Do you think she'll be able to take us all? You know what we're like once we get started."

"She looks trainable." said Minho.

"Now, I think five spanks, should be enough." Chan concludes, and you secretly smile to yourself. You've can easily handle way more than- "Ahhh...Fuck!" you cry when a hard slap lands directly on your pussy. His hand comes down again. Slap! and another one. God, that stings.

"Just three more." Slap. Slap. Slap.

He pulls your dress down your body and slides it off your legs and tosses it to the floor. "Up we get, babygirl. Sit up now." Chan cooes.

You sit up with tears down your cheeks and look at the three other men. They all have their cocks out and are stroking their lengths.

"What do you have to say for yourself." Chan caresses your thighs and nuzzles into your breasts.

"S-sorry, d-daddy." you whisper.

"That's it. Good girl." The praise makes you feel good, and it makes you want to please him more.

"Now, I need you to go and suck Han's cock." He helps you onto your feet. "Go. He's waiting for you." he urges you on.

Naked, except for your heels, you make your way to Han. You feel wobbly on your feet from the shock of being spanked, but at the same time you've never felt more turned on in your life.

"Here, doll." Changbin stands up and directs you to kneel where he had been sitting and lean down and take Han's cock deep into your mouth. "Yes. This way we can have a bit of fun with you at the same time Han is fucking your throat." he adds.

"Baby, ahhh...ngh... fuck your mouth..." Han hums as you give him the best head of your life, taking him all the way into your throat. "Mmmh...you've sucked cock before haven't you, baby. ahhh...like a fucking pro." he holds your head down and thrusts into you, making you choke. "One of my favourite sounds." he adds.

Changbin spreads your ass cheeks and rubs the pads of his fingers around the entrance to your pussy, making you moan around Han. Then you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Changbin. Split her open for us." Minho says.

"Is our little toy ready to be played with? hmm?" Changbin chuckles as he pushes his cock into you. You let out a muffled cry as Changbin's girthy cock stretches your pussy open. He's so thick, but you're so wet, and once he is fully seated inside you, he starts to fuck you.

His thrusts are slow, deep, measured, and so powerful that you really are being forced to choke on Han's cock. Together, two men use you like a fleshlight, like a pretty toy to fuck into. Their hands explore your body in a rough, animalistic way, and you're fucking loving it.

You know that Chan and Minho are watching you from their chairs, probably jerking off and dying for a turn of you.

"Fuck...your pussy...so fucking tight..." he digs his fingers into your hips and slams your ass back onto him. "That's it...fuck...show me how you fuck yourself..." he releases his hands from your body, and stops thrusting entirely, making you back yourself onto him over and over again.

You can barely breathe, your makeup would surely be ruined by now, between the sting of the spanking and choking on cock, your face is surely a mess.

"Fuck. Coming." choked Han and you feel spurts of his hot cum hit the back of your throat. "Take it, baby. Such a good slut." he pants, emptying himself in your mouth.

Changbin abruptly pulls out, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness, and he pulls your head off of Han by your hair. "Open, quick." he grunts and bullies his cock into your mouth. Three harsh thrusts and he's coming on your tongue too. "Show me, doll. Good girl." He nods in approval when you show him you swallowed every drop. “Belly full of cum.”

Han gets up off the couch to find a snack and a drink, and you almost collapse face first into the cushion. You feel Chan move behind you, spreading your cheeks again for a good look at your used hole.

"Babygirl didn't get to cum did she?" he mocked. You shook your head whimpering. You are so close, and your core feels so tight that you are going to snap at any moment.

You hear the sound of a cap from a bottle and then a familiar feeling of cold lube being applied to your asshole. They're going to fuck your ass.

"Shh... Daddy's just going to loosen you up." he purrs as he begins to prep you for his cock. You rest your head on the cushion and give yourself to Chan, letting him finger fuck your ass until he is three full fingers deep. "Taking me so well. Now for you to feel my cock, yeah? It’s gonna be a tight fit.”

He removes his fingers and presses his cock to your hole.

“That’s it…Good girl…Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” He praises as he pushes into you slowly. “Your tight little hole loves to be stretched… doesn’t it. Answer me.”

B-yes…loves to be stretched.” You pant.

“This is what you think about isn’t it? Me deep in your ass.” He starts to fuck you, withdrawing slightly, then pushing in deeper on each thrust. You can’t help but cry out, moan and whimper as his thrusts steadily become faster.

“Next time you’re out in your backyard naked, I’m gonna come around and fuck your ass….just like this…” he pants.

“We’ve managed to hook it up.” Changbin says excitedly.

“Babygirl. Look.” He whispers. You look up to the wall mounted flatscreen to see a close up of your ass with Chan’s enormous cock fucking into you. You turn your head back to see Changbin videoing the action, then your eyes return to the screen to watch your hole being abused.

Han comes to your side to reach underneath you to play with your clit. “You gonna show us how you come, baby?” He smirks.

“Oh fuck! Fuuuuuccckkk!” You squeal, coming hard.

“Good girl! Now daddy’s gonna fill you up. Ready, sweet thing?” His hand comes down to slap your ass.

“Yes, daddy. Fill me up. Need your cum.” You plead.

Chan groans as he releases himself deep in your ass and withdraws himself.

“Princess. Over here right now.” Minho snaps.

You haven’t even a chance to recover from your orgasm, as you stumble over to Minho. “Sit on the coffee table. Spread your legs for me.” He pushes you down to sit in front of him and shoves your legs open. Then he’s suddenly kneeling between them and lapping at your cunt.

You throw your head back and moan. The man knows how to eat pussy, and you’re not sure you will ever be go back to go back to lacklustre oral.

Minho’s mouth moves down to catch the cum leaking from your ass. Now that’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“Which hole you gonna fuck?” asks Changbin.

Minho pulls away from your pussy and lazily fingers your cunt. “I wanna DP her. Han. You haven’t fucked get yet.”

Minho sits back in his chair, pulling you on top of him and spreading your legs over his. He pulls your heels off and instructs you to press your feet into the cushions beside him and lift yourself up. You do as he says as he lines his cock up with your ass and slowly lowers you onto him.

“S’deep.” You choke.

“Mmm… you feel perfect, Princess. Such a pretty little cockslut for us aren’t you? Gonna be filled with so much cum by the end of this. Full of cum and your holes fucking gaping.” He smirks against your cheek. His hands squeeze your tits as you grind on his cock.

“Come on, Princess. Not getting tired I hope? C’mon, bounce on me…put on a show for the camera.” He hisses.

You’ve forgotten they were recording you. You muster all the energy you can to bounce up and down Minho’s cock and watching the screen to see your hole swallowing it up with ease. Fuck! You are a slut. And you’re fucking loving every second of it.

“Han. Come on.” Minho growls.

Han positions himself in front of you and lines his cock up with your cunt. “Have you done this before, baby?” He asks you.

You don’t answer, you’re about to come again.

“Hey!” He slaps you across the cheek and you come hard around Minho’s cock.

“Fuck, she just came. She’s clamped up. Fuck… quick… Han, fuck her now.” demands Minho.

“So our little lady likes to get roughed up. Huh?” Han shook his head In disbelief, and then groaned low as he pushed his cock into your pussy.

“Oh!!” You groan. “So…full… you’re splitting me in two… shhhiiittt.”

You’re not new to anal sex whatsoever, but you’ve never taken two cocks like this.

“Babygirl…” Chan tugs you by your hair and you turn your head to the side to take his cock in your mouth.

Changbin is on the other side taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock. He’s still holding his camera, aiming it from above, and managing to catch everything that is happening.

All four of them are using your body at the same time. Minho fucking your ass, Han your pussy, and you alternate between Chan and Changbin as they fuck your face.

Your hair is being pulled, someone has a hand wrapped around your neck, your nipples are being pinched and slapped, and Han is spitting on you.

They pull another orgasm from you before moaning and growling as they fill you up with their cum.

Eventually, they pull themselves out of you, they say their farewells, leaving you and Chan alone.

He carries you bridal style to his bathroom, runs you a bath and tucks you into his bed so you can rest.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He whispers as he slips in bed beside you. “We need organise another gathering soon.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23

[yellowpsyduck]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐘/𝐍 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

Tommy Shelby x Shelby!Reader Warnings: Incestuous, blowjob, period typical sexism

1913

"What will you be wearing, Ada?” asked the younger Shelby twin as she stood in her lace chemise and bloomers, scanning through her wooden almirah for the right dress. 

“I’m not quite sure yet. Maybe I’ll just stick with the yellow voire.” Ada replied as she held up the dress in front of the floor length mirror. “What do you think, Y/N? Does it scream ‘sultry and sophisticated’ or is it more so ‘fuck me like a whore’.” 

“Well, you can wear your knitted cape over it, to ward off unwanted suitors, then remove it when you find someone you want to fuck.” The sisters laughed as they continued prepping for the upcoming party; it wasn’t a party per se, just a little get together with people from school. 

“Is this okay?” asked Y/N as she settled on wearing a scarlet organdie dress that Tommy had bought her for her birthday. “It’s perfect Y/N. I reckon Matthew Barnaby won’t be able to take his eyes off of you in that dress, really brings out your complexion, it does.” 

“Matthew can bugger off to Timbuktu, for all I care. That boy’s getting on my nerves.” she expressed, clearly exasperated with the situation regarding the boy who had been hopelessly pining after her for months. It wasn’t that the Barnaby boy was unattractive, it was more so the opposite, with his caramel eyes and boyish grin, he was quite popular amongst the female population of Small Heath. 

And that also included her best friend, Dorothy Smith, and Y/N wouldn’t dare upset her friend by fraternising with him, by virtue of female friendships and their unspoken rules. 

“Matthew who?” came the sudden voice from the wooden doorway, startling the pair. 

“Jesus, Tommy, don’t you ever knock?” Ada reprimanded, evidently annoyed by her elder brother’s disregard for privacy, as the younger of the two quickly threw a robe over herself.  

“What’s this talk of boys and going out, eh?” Tommy asked as he stood leaning against the door frame, with his hands in his trouser pockets, sending his sisters a questioning glare. 

“It’s none of your bloody business, is what it is.” Ada retorted as she walked out of the room, wanting nothing but to escape her brother’s questioning, leaving her younger twin to fend for herself. 

“It’s just a small get together, Tommy, with people from school.” Y/N answered sweetly. She’d always been the kinder of the two, “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“Where’s this gonna be held?” 

Y/N wasn’t sure she should answer this. She knew her brother would’ve given her hell if he’d known of the location. 

“Y/N darling, I asked you a question." his voice resounded in her ears as he held her chin up to meet his icy gaze.  

“By the Cut.” came the meek reply. “Now Tommy before you say anything, please just consider the fact that you never let Ada and I go anywhere. Be it Boris’ birthday last week or Janey’s the month before, or any party, in fact. So please, let us go just this once.” she pleaded with her eyes watering and her lips in a beautiful pout.  

“Y/N, you know I’m just trying to keep the both of you safe.” he whispered as he looked into her clear eyes. “Who knows what’s to happen when the men see how devastatingly beautiful you are, eh?”  

“But Tommy, the rest of you go out whenever you want and do whatever you please. It's not fair for Ada and I.” she argued, not willing to let go of her grievance. 

“It’s because Arthur, John and I know how to hold a gun.”  

“Well, Ada chases rats with a revolver, does she not.” came her quick retort, eliciting a chuckle from her brother. 

“Rats. Ada chases rats. That’s very different from firing it at a man.” Tommy reasoned with her. 

“What if I do something for you?” she asked him, almost purring into his ears. 

“Like what, my sweet girl?” 

“Like this.” She traced her fingers along his crotch through the fabric of his trousers, looking at him so very innocently. “And this.” she whispered as she undid his leather belt, and pulled his trousers down, hearing the metallic clang as it hit the ground. 

“You’re sailing perilously close to the wind, my dear.” He breathed raspily, as he looked down at her kneeling figure. He, however, gave no indication of stopping her as she pulled out his cock and stroked it gently, staring into his eyes, as she did so. 

His cock was growing in her hand, giving away his arousal, as it hardened and throbbed with her touch. Y/N would never tire of seeing Tommy’s red cock, it was a beast each time she laid her eyes on his sinful member, and she knew just how to knead it and suck it, to make him succumb to her wishes. 

‘Men think with their cocks’ her Aunt Polly had told her once and young Y/N Shelby had etched that saying into her mind, who would’ve known that she’d ever use it against her own brother.  

Her actions were sinfully graceful as she stroked his length with her soft hands. She glanced at him naughtily and placed a sweet kiss to his reddish tip and dragged her tongue through the length of his cock, she continued all the way to his balls, cupping them and placing sloppy kisses, prompting soft groans from his mouth. 

She spit on his cock, lubricating him as she continued pumping him. The door to the bedroom was wide open and the pair didn’t make an effort to obstruct prying eyes from peering into their lascivious act. 

Ada had made a show of closing the door to the house rather resoundingly, hence, she wasn’t to be worried about. Finn would be at school, while Arthur and John were God knows where with God knows who and Polly wouldn’t be back until teatime.   

Tommy knew the little girl was only sucking him off so that he’d grant her wish of going out with her friends, but God, did she look good doing it. His fingers tightened around her brown curls as he beckoned her to take his cock in her mouth, and she gladly obliged. Her plump red lips parted and wrapped around his thick, dark cock, earning a satisfactory hum from the man above. She sucked him as best as she could, taking him in with great difficulty, his girth simply too wide for her narrow mouth. Her eyes started watering as he bucked his hips into her mouth, his fingers gripped her soft hair as he set his pace. Y/N made a conscious effort to hold back a gag as Tommy continued his hasty thrusts, clearly lost in the pleasure of his sister's warm and soft mouth. 

His sister, his darling sister! God, did she look like a vision. 

Kneeling in front of him, with his dick in her mouth, dewy eyed and ruddy cheeked. She was perfect; utterly and devastatingly perfect. 

His thrusts got faster as his balls slapped against her chin, she was such a good girl, suppressing her gags as he choked her with his relentless assault of her throat. 

He was close, he could feel it. Just a little more. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my sweet girl.” he moaned through stifled groans. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”  

With a final thrust, he spilled his seed inside her mouth as it dripped down into her cleavage, spoiling her chemise which she so adored. 

“Tommy, look what you’ve done, now I’ve got to wash it again.” she grumbled through muffled sounds and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  

Y/N didn’t wait for her brother to gain his composure and sauntered into the lavatory; she didn’t have the time to boil water for a proper bath, hence, she soaked a towel and resigned to rubbing her body clean. It was in times like these that she quite envied Dorothy, for her father was the District Magistrate and they could afford plumbing facilities in their mansion, which meant that they’d have hot water at will, unlike the Shelby’s who weren’t the most well off financially. 

She wrapped a spare towel over her body as she made her way to the twin’s shared bedroom to find Tommy leaning against the window with a cigarette between his lips.  

“Close the curtains, will you?” she asked him as she dropped the towel to the floor and rummaged through her drawers for her inner garments. Tommy did as asked as he took another puff of the cigarette, his eyes raking over her nude body as he watched her shimmy into a blue chemise with matching bloomers. Her movements were unhurried as she sat on the bed and pulled up the stockings. 

Tommy had always enjoyed watching her dress, the way the material of the stockings would dig slightly into her plump thighs, or how divine her legs looked in the garters and she’d always let him tie the corset lace. He'd done it enough times to know just the tightness that she preferred.  

“I’m planning on wearing this.” she announced as she held up the scarlet dress, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to deny her a night out now. 

“Just be back before dinner and make sure your sister doesn’t make a drunken fool out of herself.” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. 

“Will you also be going out?” she asked absentmindedly as she tried on the dress, twirling contentedly in front of the mirror. 

“I might.” The girl quirked an eyebrow at this, “To meet Greta Jurossi, I presume.” 

Tommy hadn’t known that his sister would be privy to his and Greta’s discretions. “And whatever gave you that idea, my sweet girl?” 

“Kitty’s been spewing tales of you and her sister. The whole of Birmingham must’ve heard of it by now, heaven knows that girl can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.” she answered nonchalantly and opened the window, spotting her sister playing hopscotch with the younger girls. “Ada!” she yelled at her twin, motioning her to come up to the house.  

Tommy took that as his cue to exit and he made his way to the door, “And Tommy, thank you so much.” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his torso.  

He placed a kiss on her forehead and left without a word. 

“Well, did he actually agree?” squealed Ada as she darted into the room, “Of course he did.” Y/N assured her. 

“Well, fuck me, how on earth did you persuade him?” she asked as she hurriedly combed her hair, not wanting to be late for the event. 

“It didn’t take much honestly, and I’ve got a sweet mouth, you know.” Ada nodded, obviously not understanding the innuendo behind her sister’s words.  

And she never would, for that was to remain a secret between Tommy and Y/N. 

[auspicioustidings]

141 fighting each other to be the one whose lap reader sits on during a meeting or smth

CONGRATS ON 1kkkk

Thanks <3 Please find silly nonsense below!

Tomfoolery Senses

Words: 1k

CWs: Slightly spicy but nothing explicit

Honestly you shouldn’t even be on base, not with your knee being how it was. It was annoying as hell that the recovery time meant you were out of the field for the foreseeable, but they still needed you. You may not be able to run around with a gun right now, but tactical was always your strong point anyway so for now you attended meetings and made plans.

You walked into one such meeting and your tomfoolery senses immediately went off. There were too many glinting eyes for them not to have pulled something, and when you went to sit down you nearly laughed out loud at the bloody audacity. No empty seats. Strange since there should be some, almost as if someone had relocated them beforehand specifically for some ridiculous purpose.

“Ye can sit here bonnie!”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Soap was very much patting his lap in excitement. The last time you had ended up in that man's lap his hand had wandered during the entire meeting. You recalled being a mess by the end of it and Soap being very much like the cat who got the cream about it because he knew it meant when he followed to your room like a puppy you would let him in.

“Move your arse MacTavish, I’m injured and I need the seat.”

“Wouldnae dream of it! As ye’ll recall, I also have a dodgy knee. Only right for us tae stick together.”

“Surely you’re not asking them to sit on your dodgy knee then Johnny? Come on sweetheart, right here.”

You gave Ghost a bemused look. Soap you expected this from, but him? Actually no, you had very much been overwatch for 141 missions, this is exactly the kind of nonsense you expected of this idiot.

“Now I would love to, but weren’t you just telling me about your bad back? I seem to remember something about needing me to massage it. It would be irresponsible of me to risk making it worse.”

“Your massage fixed it right up actually" he replied, large hand patting thick thigh in further invitation.

You rolled your eyes. Your “massage” had lasted about a minute with you sincerely giving it your best effort before he had pinned you down and given you a very thorough massaging of his own. Only that one had done the opposite of fixing your back, if anything you'd say he had in fact blown it out.

“That so? You were complaining about it right before they walked in” Gaz said, smug as anything even while Ghost glared over at him.

“He's a lying git luv, obviously just looking to get a gorgeous thing in his lap. My lap, however, is neutral.”

You knew for a fact his lap was not neutral, not one bit. His lap was very much the kind of lap that you found yourself bouncing on anytime he got you alone and charmed you right into it. You could be in the middle of a training exercise, fully in the zone, and next thing you knew you were stuffed full of Kyle bloody Garrick in the middle of a safehouse where anyone could wander in at any moment. It wasn't like you were a big risk taker, but he could make you think anything was a good idea.

“A veritable Switzerland I'm sure.”

“Safest place to be really.”

“Look me in the eye and say that with a straight face then.”

Soap and Ghost groaned in tandem as you made the mistake of looking at Gaz. That bloody sunshine smile could sell ice in the Arctic and as such everyone usually avoided eye contact when they knew he wanted something. Charisma score above 20 that boy. Honestly these fuckers were the worst, but oh Gaz's big brown eyes were just smiling so gently at you and surely he would never do anything untoward. How could you look at this man and think he would ever manipulate you?

“Corporal, come ‘ere, that's an order.”

Gaz's sunshine expression turned to one of wry disbelief. He had been so close, you had been about to take a step towards him. It was awfully unsportsmanlike for Price to pull rank, something Gaz would be holding against him.

“So much for honour.”

“Cheeky fucker.”

“Just taking the piss Captain.”

It wasn't completely unfounded for Price to use his rank to get what he wanted when it came to you, it was why usually the others would try to get you away from him. Ghost did it sometimes too if he wasn't there and the Sergeants were. Although he didn't use it quite as thoroughly as Price did once he got you alone. The Captain was always happy to give you orders if only so he could punish you when you bit back, which you did often. Not because you enjoyed the punishment, that certainly wasn't it. You could not supply another reason, but that was besides the point.

“Well I suppose I have to since you're the Captain, unless there was someone that technically had more authority to give me orders” you said with a grin.

“Come on now pet, don't be like that, just come sit and we can start the meeting hm?” he said, using that voice that was right in the middle of soothing dominance and rough command in a last ditch effort.

“Of course Captain, just want to clear it with command first.”

Price sighed, glancing over and seeing that he had lost the fight when he was met with Kate's sly little smile. She was often your saviour when it came to these men. It helped that her and her lovely wife were both sweet on you. They had invited you round for dinner once or twice, and suffice to say the very delicious home cooked meals were not the only thing getting eaten. If there was one thing the men in the 141 hated more than losing to one another, it was losing to Laswell. She was always so annoyingly smug about being your favourite.

As you settled right down in her lap and both the meeting and Kate's hands gently massaging at your waist started, the 141 collectively thought that next time they'd better bring you a damn chair.

[sapphic-coded]

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Some gore. Language that Cap wouldn't approve of. Reader is a messed up assassin. Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: Welp. Here's my first fanfic on tumblr. I only have one chapter written, but I'm hoping my muse will stick with me so I can turn this into a series. This is lightly edited. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you come across (and you most likely will). Minors, please do not interact. Please do not copy/steal my work. Enjoy!

Chapter One: I Thought You Died Alone A Long, Long Time Ago

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992

The silence that filled the car wielded a tension you were all too familiar with. Your father’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel he gripped. A deep frown pulled at his lips while his cold, steel gray eyes stared straight ahead behind a pair of thick, dark framed glasses. His usual tamed black hair was a mess with strands of hair shooting out in random directions. 

Sitting next to your father, up in the front passenger’s seat, was your older brother. He was a tall, skinny boy who had just embarked into his teens. His blonde hair was parted down the middle of his head and reached the tips of his ears. His navy blue eyes stared out the passenger’s window. His lips were pressed tight. There was so much he wanted to say. If you guys were anywhere else, perhaps he wouldn’t hold back. 

Sitting next to you in the backseat of your father’s station wagon was your older sister. She was a year younger than your brother with her long brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her head was bowed, and her brown eyes were glued to the pages of her book. She was skinny like your brother, but her body was already beginning to shift into adulthood. She had started growing breasts last summer. 

You were the youngest. You had recently celebrated your tenth birthday. You were skinny like your siblings, but still very much a child. Your green camo jacket felt heavy. You were all dressed alike: green camo jackets, dark green shirts, green hunting fatigues, and heavy brown boots. It was the outfit you always wore during your hunting trips with your father.  

Your brother reached toward the car’s radio. Your father’s hand released its vice-like grip on the steering wheel and slapped down on your brother’s hand. You heard the loud smack, and your brother quickly snatched his hand back.

“I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” Your father’s voice rode a current of anger that popped the tense bubble of silence. 

“I just wanted to listen to music,” your brother shot back. “Sitting here in silence is boring.” 

Just like that another argument between your father and brother started up. You looked over at your sister. She was very much focused on her book. Your attention drifted over to your window. You did your best to tune out the argument happening up front while you watched the scenery of trees roll by. Eventually your gaze dropped to your lap. You stared at the dried blood caked around your fingernails. 

“...pointless and–”

“You are cowardly and weak!”

You can’t believe the weekend is almost over. You had spent the whole weekend out hunting with your family. Your father had parked his station wagon in a lot and marched you all out into the woods. You all had spent the whole weekend laying in the cold mud. It was your brother’s hunt. You were all following his lead. Which meant mostly laying in the mud and following tracks every so often. This weekend was supposed to end with your brother’s first kill. Instead, it ended differently. 

The engine of your father’s car stopped as you reached your house. The argument between your brother and father had ended, but you cannot recall when. You undid your seatbelt and opened the car door. The moment you stepped out onto your driveway, your attention landed on a moving truck parked across the street. A man and a woman were busy unloading boxes out of the truck and carrying them into the house. 

You noticed something else. A girl around your age with blue hair came out of the house and walked down the driveway towards the moving truck. Her pace slowed as she noticed you. You lifted your hand in a small, friendly wave. A smile had started to curl at your lips when your father’s voice called out to you. You turned away from your new neighbors and found your father standing in the garage with his hunting rifle hanging from his shoulder. You made your way up into the garage where you felt your father’s hand fall gently onto your shoulder. 

Amsterdam – 2010

You hate these jobs. Long relentless days spent circling your target. Never able to strike just yet. You had to put on a show first. Pretend to be their friend, or a business partner, or their lover. You had to act as if your target was important in some flimsy life you threw together. Your kills were always messy at the end of these jobs. You can’t help it. You just want the stupid job to be over. 

And it almost is. You have spent the past four days pretending to be your target’s bodyguard. Four days spent following your target around. You dealt with their problems and waited for the day all your targets would be together in the same room. Because the job wasn't just to kill the target you were pretending to protect. Your target and their friends had messed up. They had pissed off the wrong people. You were there to clean up the mess. 

Your target had set the long awaited meeting to take place in a fancy hotel in the middle of the day. The guest list for this meeting would be short. It included your target and you, his business partners, and their private security. The meeting wasn’t scheduled to take long. It was supposed to be a simple transaction. An easy exchange of goods and money. The details of that particular transaction did not interest you. Your interest lingers on your plan to take out all your targets. 

The dark brown shoulder holster that you wore over your white, button-up, collared shirt held one of your favorite guns. There was nothing overly special about it. It was a standard, black 9mm Beretta handgun. It was reliable in nearly all your jobs. It was your favorite because it had been your first gun. A present from your father. It marked the end of your training and the beginning of the rest of your life. If your job was to take out just the one target you had been following around, then the choice would have been easy. But the job required the elimination of all your targets. Since the other targets were bringing their own private security, once you made your move you would need to finish the job quickly. 

But the job didn’t specify that the kills had to be quiet. 

You pull on your gray suit coat. Your shoulder holster disappears from view as you stand before the mirror and button the coat. Matching gray trousers cover your legs and the black flats you wear bring a smile to your face. This job was almost over and soon you would be busy getting yourself as far away from here as possible. Hence why you chose the flats over heels. You run your hands down the length of your suit coat to smooth out any wrinkles. Your hair is pulled back into a professional, tight bun. Your right hand dips into one of the suit pockets. The pad of your finger brushes against the small, round marble nestled within. 

When your target is ready, you follow him out of the hotel room he rented and down into the hotel lobby. You follow him across the spacious lobby and into a large boardroom. As the door clicks shut behind you, your eyes survey the room. A long mahogany table commands most of the space within the room. Situated around the table were identical black office chairs. Far more than necessary for this meeting. Sitting in four of the chairs were your four other targets. Standing behind each of your targets were their own bodyguards. Sunlight poured into the room from the floor to ceiling glass windows that ran along one side of the room. 

You follow your target over to one of the chairs. He takes a seat and you stand behind him. Your gaze briefly returns to the other bodyguards. All tall, imposing looking men. They stand as still as statues, and you wonder how they do it. Do they enjoy following around power addicted fools? You spent four days with your target, and you can’t wait to kill him. 

“Where’s Tyler?” your target asks as he settles into his seat. 

“Running late,” your other target answers. 

You tune out the insults your targets direct towards the currently absent Tyler. Instead, you wonder what this peaceful boardroom will look like in the next ten minutes. Or however long it takes for Tyler to show up. There will definitely be blood. Broken glass was also a given. You doubt the chairs will make it. The hotel will definitely need to buy a new table. But you wonder if you’ll get a chance to see their faces. Just one. It’s the part that fascinates you the most. Your target’s last moment etched across their face. It reveals so much. 

The door to the boardroom opens and the conversation shared between your targets dies into an awkward silence. You turn in time with everyone else as Tyler steps into the room alone. The first thing you notice is that he is sweating. A lot. In his shaking hand he holds the handle of a briefcase. His free hand raises up and he runs his fingers through a disheveled mop of dark hair. 

“Sorry about the wait,” Tyler says. 

“Jesus, Tyler,” your original target replies. “You look like shit. Let’s just get this over with so we can all go home.” 

Tyler nods and hurries over to the table. He sets the briefcase down and opens it. One of your other targets reaches into their coat pocket and pulls out a brown wrapped parcel. The size and shape of the parcel is clearly money. With everyone’s attention on Tyler and his suitcase, you causally unbutton your gray suit jacket. 

“Just so everything is clear,” your original target addresses the others. “You give us that.” He gestures to the suitcase. “You take the money, and we don’t hear from you ever again. You don’t mention us and we don’t know you. You don’t come looking for this because it doesn’t exist.”

Tyler nods. 

“We still haven’t discussed how we are dividing our profits,” another target says. 

“We’ll discuss it later,” your original target replies. 

As the conversation shifts into another argument, you decide that this is as good a time as any to wrap things up. All your targets are in place with a few bonus players. It is time to put these boring four days behind you. As your hand moves towards your pocket, you spot one of the other bodyguards quickly lowering his head. His hand lifts up to press against his ear. You still your movements as you watch the other bodyguard. 

“We just lost our comms,” the bodyguard’s voice cuts through the argument. 

Your hand abandons its journey towards your pocket as your original target turns around in their seat to look at you. The question written plain across their face is one you can’t answer. Maybe if you had any comms to worry about then you could make a solid guess as to why they are suddenly down. But you don’t. And while you have no interest in who the new mysterious player is, you do get the sense that maybe you really should wrap this up. Quickly. 

You mimic the other bodyguards as you reach for your gun. Your fingers manage to brush against the holster’s leather before a faint beeping sound pulls your attention over towards the door. Something small and metallic rolls out from underneath the door. It rolls across the floor towards you and your gathered targets. You can barely make out what it is from where you are standing, but the quickening frequency of the faint beeping causes you to turn away from it. 

The white light that explodes from the weird object swallows up the entire boardroom. You close your eyes as the explosion drowns out the shouts from the other bodyguards. Your ears are ringing when you open your eyes. The shouts from your targets are muffled as they all scramble from their seats. The wall of glass windows shatters as men in black tactical gear attached to wires swing into the boardroom. The bodyguards who had managed to pull out their guns immediately exchange gunfire with the uninvited tactical team while your targets scramble to avoid getting hit. 

Well, you hadn’t planned to end this job on a neat and tidy note. Things were about to get really messy. 

You pull your gun from its holster and aim it at the first tactical newcomer that pointed their gun at you. Your finger squeezes the trigger, and you watch with satisfaction as their head snaps back from the bullet barreling through their forehead. Their body goes limp and drops. You spy one bodyguard already dead with their chest riddled with bullet holes. 

A second tactically geared newcomer turns their attention to you and is quick to fire. You quickly duck underneath the fancy boardroom table. Bullets from your enemy’s gun rips through the wood above you. You take aim at the guy’s leg and fire. The guy’s cry comes through crystal clear as he drops to his knee. You can’t fight back the smile that curls your lips as you maneuver your way out from underneath the table and fire off another round where you’re almost certain his mouth is. 

Another bodyguard has joined the other dead one on the floor while the others corral your targets behind them as they continue to exchange gunfire with the uninvited guests. Except, Tyler darts out from behind the weakening wall of bodyguards and rushes towards the bullet ridden table. He snatches up the briefcase and hurries towards the door. The other targets hurl curses his way as you lift your gun and aim at the back of his head. You are about to pull the trigger when the door Tyler reaches flies open into him. Tyler stumbles backwards, trips over his clumsy feet, and falls backwards. The briefcase slips from his grasp and slides across the floor and stops at your feet. 

Your attention, however, is not on the briefcase. It’s not even on Tyler who is groaning and still alive. Your eyes are glued to the person who steps through the doorway and into the room. You recognise her face immediately despite her red hair. It’s long and tied back away from her face in an intricate braid. The black catsuit she wears bears the symbol of SHIELD on her shoulders. The identity of the tactical newcomers pales in comparison to the way her olive green eyes widen slightly in recognition. Old memories, so long buried that you are shocked you can even remember them, creep in. The gun in your hand never wavers as you find your old friend at the business end of it. 

“Y/N.” 

If there were any doubts, her voice banished them. It’s her. 

“Put down the gun.” 

It’s as if a floodgate has opened. The memories are countless despite the fact that it had only been three years. So old and forgotten that they feel new. They smother the job that has taken up residence within your mind. You’re here to kill your targets, but all you can think about is the last time you saw her. How abrupt her departure had been. You remember your father’s rants about her family. 

Slowly, you lower your gun. She takes a step forward. Tyler’s groans stop, and he lifts his head up. He reaches for the briefcase at your feet. You point your lowered gun down towards Tyler’s head and pull the trigger. Your friend’s advance stops as blood and pieces of Tyler’s brain paint the floor and the briefcase red. One target down. 

The smoke pours from your gun as you gauge her reaction. The recognition you saw earlier is gone. Her face is a mask, and the frustration you feel is so familiar. 

The last of the bodyguards drop and your remaining targets are completely exposed. The remaining tactical guests close in on your targets except for one who breaks off and starts towards you. You ignore the orders the man shouts at you. Instead, you kick the blood and brain matter stained briefcase underneath the ruined table. You start to raise your gun, but the tactical guest already has his finger on the trigger. He fires and you are quick to dodge out of the way. The bullets dig holes into the wall behind you. You kick one of the office chairs at the man. It collides into him and he stumbles back. You raise your gun again but the moment you squeeze the trigger, your legs are swept out from underneath you. The bullet you fired finds a home in the ceiling as your back collides with the ground. 

Before you can move, a weight settles on you. Hands pin down yours. Strong legs straddle you as your friend’s face fills your vision. 

“Stop, Y/N.” There’s more force behind her words this time. “Don’t make me hurt you.” 

You almost laugh. Almost. Maybe if your job was done then you could have spared a moment or two to revel in your friend’s joke. But you were dangerously close to losing control of this job. You pull your legs up and manage to throw your friend off of you. You roll onto your knees and go to stand when the man you had kicked the chair at slams the butt of his gun into your jaw. Your head snaps to the side and blood fills your mouth. 

The childhood memories that have been distracting you vanish as you spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. The man turns his gun back around to point the barrel at you. Your hold on your own gun remains firm as you look over your shoulder towards your friend. She’s on her knees as well, but that is all you are able to make out as you quickly drop back down towards the floor. A small, short bluish bolt flies barely an inch over your head and lands on the guy who hit you. Blue strings of electricity wrap around his chest as he drops with a shout. 

You scramble to your feet and head for the door. Your hand digs into your suit pocket and your fingers close around the small marble. You can hear your friend catching up to you as you pull the marble from your pocket. Your thumb presses down on the miniscule button barely noticeable to the eye. As you quickly near the door, you drop the marble. It rolls towards your remaining targets. The moment you make it out of the boardroom and into the lobby, you feel her hand close around yours. You yank your hand hard from her grip and turn quickly while raising your gun. 

You find yourself staring down the barrel of her gun. A smile creeps onto your face as you hold your gun steady. Unfortunately, your friend doesn’t find this amusing. 

“Put down the gun.”

“You first, Nat,” you reply. 

Her gun stays pointed at you when it finally happens. The boardroom explodes into a hot, blazing ball of destruction. The force of the explosion sends both of you flying further into the spacious lobby. You both hit a fancy looking pillar before dropping with a hard thud to the ground. Despite your body’s screams of protest, you are the first to climb back onto your feet. You look down as your friend starts to move. Still alive. Your gun feels heavy in your hand as that single thought runs laps through your mind. For the first time in a long time, you feel excited. 

“Sorry, Nat,” you say as you slide your gun back into its holster. “Gotta run.” 

You leave her there and make your escape. Slipping away from the scene that has now drawn a crowd is as easy as breathing. You hardly think about it. And with nobody chasing you, it’s almost painfully easy. But the further away you get, you know that’s not entirely true. She isn’t chasing after you now, but she will. You hope so. You miss your only friend.

[until-another-one-comes]

My body headcanons for some of the boys:

Steven: slim but strong and muscular. He obviously has that military style training. Running 100 laps around the base, push ups, sit ups, swimming in an Olympic sized pool, weight training, anything to build up muscle and stamina. He can pack a punch and can wrestle a bear.

Izaack: absolute beefcake. More than Steven. He naturally has a big build but he works out regularly, mainly to keep his handsome image as a reporter. He’s very top heavy and has big strong arms that can carry two people and give the best hugs.

Angus: really slender. Not muscular at all. Doesn’t work out much but he’s the type to go out a lot. Nothing much to say here but he’s kind of a twink. Fans are saying Francis is a twink but I think the real twink is Angus here. Speaking of-

Francis: he’s mid sized to me. I know a lot of fanart depict him as some muscular anime guy but not to me. He’s not the slimmest but he’s not fat either. He used to have a slimmer frame when he was younger but you know how your metabolism slows down when you age, combined with a couple of poor lifestyle choices like not getting enough sleep and midnight snacking? Yeah. But he has broad shoulders, chest and strong arms due to carrying milk carts. Not the strongest but strong enough for manual labour

ANON YOU UNDERSTAND THIS IS 100% HOW I SEE THEM

YESSS Steven is def a muscle dude. Probably has a punching bag in his house and goes on runs early in the morning (if thats allowed, but still).

Yeah out of all the four guys Izaack is definitely the strongest purely strength wise. Clark Kent type of build. Oh my God he is literally Clark Kent.

'He can carry two people and gives the best hugs' that is so fucking cute I love that.

YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON I SEE WHO AGREES ANGUS IS A *TWINK*. I see most people saying its Francis but HELLO WHAT ABOUT THIS REGINALD COPPERBOTTOM LOOKING GUY?? Mfer has NO muscles. Built like a stick. I think its cuz people see him as a mob boss/mafia guy which is understandable but while I do think he's skilled with a gun and whatnot that still don't mean he's not a twink! (Despite this he does struck me as the type to have a ton of energy so there's that)

Finally, Francis. You are so right anon- he's not a twink and he's not a muscle guy either (no hate to anyone who draws him with muscle, I'm not exactly against that *coughs*). But yeah he's definitely average and in between in terms of build. Calling him a twink isn't right cuz his job still involves SOME manual labor. I also hc he had a bunch of odd jobs before being a milkman so theres that.

Oh wait this is a nice time for me to share a silly little headcanon. One time Angus saw Francis walking carrying a bunch of milk crates and offered to help him carry one. Francis handed him one and Angus immediately toppled over from the weight. After that he immediately just ran back to his apartment and too embarassed to look at Francis in the eyes for a week.

On a cuter note, Steven usually helps Francis with carrying them.

GASP

STEVEN AND IZAACK GYM BUDDIES

[juuuulez]

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

[0kayblue]

Blood Trail

Blood Trail

Your most recent mission was to rescue the President's daughter, it was supposed to be a simple rescue mission in and out. Things go from bad to worse quickly once you seek shelter in a barn.

 [PART II] 

Main Character Relations: Leon Kennedy x Reader 

Word Count: 5k (a little over) 

Angst, mentions of violence, knives, hand to hand combat, guns, needles, pills, blood, and previous NSFW affairs

A/N: HELLO ALL!! If you can’t tell by the terrible summary this is set in the re4 setting. I’m biased. I’ll probably be going on a break after this, but enjoy!!! I send my love and hope you are all doing alright. 

Search and rescue, that was the name of the game and you were damn good at it. Even if you were flipped around and upside down, you knew how to find things. It was a skill that most in your field wished they had and spent hours trying to learn. Committing to memory how to identify what tracks belong to either what animal or vehicle. Trying to teach themselves what to look for and when to look for it. 

You shined when it came to tracking people. You could quite possibly find yourself over the moon when you spotted boot prints. You could tell a lot about someone based on their footprints. How someone moves is a very telling thing; how far apart each footprint is, the density of each step conveying the urgency in their stride. They told stories and it was up to the observer to translate them in the best way they knew how. 

It took an understanding of people and a bit of a sixth sense. It’s where rookies and professionals alike messed up, but not you. You weren’t always one hundred percent correct, but you always ended up in the right direction. It gained you respect, rank, and a reputation. 

So, as you sat in the back of a police cruiser studying the way the two police officers interacted with one another you put together a mental file on each of them. They seemed quite laid back and easy going individuals that didn’t take much of anything seriously. Joking and laughing- you had no clue what about- like they weren’t on clock. It was a nice change and caused you to smile lightly; it was nice to bask in a partnership that wasn’t so grounded in solemeness. 

You glanced at Leon who rested against the window, staring rather dramatically out of it lost in thought. You rolled your eyes before nudging him gently, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mumbled audibly enough to not draw attention from the officers in front. 

Leon scoffed at the nickname that you gave him the moment you met him months ago. He had a love-hate relationship with it because he knew it was supposed to knock him down a peg; but it fell from your lips in such a flirtatious way that it sparked a warmth in his stomach. Adjusting subtlety, his eyes locked with yours, “What, Princess?” 

Of course he didn’t let ‘pretty boy’ slide and upon seeing how the staff treated you like royalty- and how you had a number of them eating out of your hand- he bestowed you the title of ‘Princess’. There really wasn’t a thing you could do about it and you were more than willing to accept your karma if it hadn’t bit you so hard in the ass in the bedroom. The way it made you squirm under him only stroked his ego. 

It was only predictably natural for two flirtatious agents to find themselves tangled up in the sack once or twice. Although in the particular case of you two it was becoming a more common thing. The palpable energy between the two of you could start a fire. It was fun and loose with no serious title, the way close relationships between agents were recommended to be. 

“You think we could switch roles with these two? I’ll be the funny one.” 

“You can’t be the funny one, I’m the funny one.” His tone dry with a little smirk to match. 

“Damn, really? You could have fooled me.” Little giggles creeping from your throat as you said it, causing him to chuckle. 

“Why am I always the one who draws the short end of the stick?” One of the officers cuts through the moment with laughter, speaking in English for one of the first times since picking both you and Leon up. 

Your eyes left the ocean of blue as your attention turned back to the officers in front of you, fully focused now that they were ready to talk. His eyes stayed on you though, a flower that he’s been neglecting sunlight continuing to bloom.

———————————————————

This was not how this was supposed to go, it was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be an in and out type of job; find the target, save the target, and get the hell out of dodge. 

Breathing in as much air as your body allowed your hands found your knees and trailed down your legs, trying to keep them from shaking. You stood turning to Ashley as you did so, “Are you okay?” You asked concerned, approaching her cautiously as a hand found her shoulder. Your hand pressed against her shoulder with a light firmness as you rubbed her shoulder and then her shoulder blade. 

Ashley Graham, the President’s daughter, the target; a sweet young woman whose adult life was starting off more than just rough and bumpy despite the cushy life she has had. 

Her typically chipper and welcoming persona was gone and all that remained was a scared little girl who just wanted to go home. 

Ashley shook slightly as she tried to catch her breath, wanting to lie, but she couldn’t as she shook her head. You just nodded and continued to rub in between her shoulders and give her time. 

She’s been here longer than you have, she’s seen more than you have; and you only hoped that it hadn’t ruined her outlook on life forever. 

“Take a minute. We should be safe where we are, for now at least.” Leon said as he boarded up a makeshift door in the average sized barn you tried to take cover in. 

“You wanna take a seat, dear?” You asked her as you guided her to a sturdy enough looking chair that sat tucked under an even less sturdy looking table. You smoothly guided her to the seat as your hand left her shoulder, “Is there anything I can do to make this easier?” Your eyes locked with hers to convey your genuine concern for her well being. 

Ashley was a victim. She was someone who didn’t deserve this and it wasn’t fair, but unfortunately it was the cards she had been dealt. Regardless of the paycheck you cared for every victim that you tried to save and Ashley was no different. Trying to make her as comfortable as possible was your primary goal. 

As you reached for the aid kit that was firmly strapped to your thigh, you could hear a drained sigh escaping Leon’s lips over the crisp sound of velcro separating. He was your next concern, but you had to focus. Opening the neatly organized pack that had an assortment of different first aid items like ointment, pills, and bandages on one side and on the other side had syringes filled with morphine and sedatives. 

Ashley’s face turned up at the needles, but you just smiled, “Those aren’t for you, unless you are under some severe pain. You aren’t, are you?” You asked, your tone smooth and gentle. 

“No.” She shook her head, “I just have a headache.” 

You pulled out the little bottle labeled tylenol and got her two of the little red tablets, “Can you take pills without water? What about scratches and cuts, anything we need to bandage up?”

“I don’t like to, but I can.” She affirmed as you handed her the pills, you sent her a warm smile. 

“I don’t either.” You admitted, watching her struggle to take the pills. “That should help, if you need more don’t hesitate to ask, okay?” 

She nodded and you put a hand back on her shoulder, “Take a breather, collect yourself, we will step forward when you feel strong enough to continue.” Ashley sniffed, trying to hold back a flood gate of tears you crouched down to force her eyes to connect with yours, “I know this is hard, but I need you to know that you are going to be okay. Leon and I are going to get you out of here, okay? I promise.” Ashley shut her eyes tight as she took in a deep shaky breath. 

She felt guilty at the feet of your unconditional kindness. She felt as if she had doomed you for failure. How could you promise a happy ending without even knowing half of the story? Something was inside her, something beyond her control; a plague coursed through her body that could turn her into something that sent ice through her veins. Made her so unsure of who she ever was. 

“Ashley.” You called for her, causing her to open her eyes. “It’s okay to cry.” She turned away and slowly she started to feel it; she started to cry. “Can I hug you?” 

“No!” She choked out as she flinched away, “N-no…can I have a moment? Please?” She begged as your brows furrowed together in concern. 

It wasn’t unusual for victims to want to be left alone to cry; to hide. But this felt different. Ashley wasn’t one to hide away from people, she was one to ask for help. To seek comfort in those she trusted. Either she didn’t trust you or something bigger was at play. She trusted you; that much you knew or she wouldn’t have taken the pills from you. She may be a little on the naive side, but she most certainly wasn’t stupid. 

You nodded even though your stomach turned, “Okay, I’m going to go check on Leon. I’ll be right over there and-.” 

“I know! Okay, I know.” Ashley snapped at you, causing you to raise an eyebrow. This put you on guard, but you turned your back and went to Leon. Something was wrong and you were counting on your counterpart to fill you in on the details. 

Approaching Leon you studied his features and how he carried himself. It was off and it was odd, usually Leon was well kept regardless of the hell he was going through; but he seemed disheveled. His posture was slacked, but still stressed and he was pale. The bags under his eyes visible from a mile away and a dark shade of purple accompanied them. You leaned against the wall next to him and you could barely pick up on a trace of him regardless of the fact that you were standing right next to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked with a playful smirk, being who you always were with him. You’re own way of telling him it was okay. 

“I lost you.” His voice came out like gravel, low and gruff. You barely heard the sentiment, but it was there. If you weren’t working you would’ve pondered on it, even blushed, but you were on the clock. You had learned your lesson the hard way about relationships on the clock. 

“I found you, though.” You tried to send the same amount of sentiment back regardless of the cool composure you maintained, “It’s what I do. I told you, I’d be okay and I was.” 

He wasn’t pleased with your answer. Leon knew you could hold your own, he knew that you would find him; but that still didn’t settle his stomach. This time had to be different.

“Look how far you got without me, though. You got Ashley and we met up, so I’d say we are back on the right track. Although,” you paused and lowered your voice, “Something is off.” Your gaze found Ashley. 

“That gut of yours.” He remarks with a smile. A sight to behold that causes you to relax slightly. “Whatever the hell is going on here goes deeper than we think.” He swallows harshly as he tries to fight a cough from escaping from his chest. A thick substance that he carelessly writes off as mucus lodges itself in his throat. 

“So it appears. I’m worried about Ashley. I don’t know the girl personally, but from what I’ve seen and read, the girl I’m helping isn’t the girl I studied.” 

“Saddler-.”

“Who?” You cut him off, the name rings a bell as some of the people you killed out of defense mumbled it as they fell to become one with the earth below them. 

“Creepy guy, he’s got portraits everywhere.” You nodded and he continued, “Ran into him when I got Ashley out of the church. He said he injected her with a gift. The same gift those brain dead puppets have out there.” He explained, conveniently leaving out the part that he was also given the same gift. That the same plague was bestowed upon him and that slowly he was turning into the things you killed with sympathy. 

He didn’t want you losing focus. 

“Interesting, that changes the game.” You started second guessing your choice in giving Ashley the Tylenol. “A cure?” 

“Not that I know of. I crossed paths with an ex-cop turned lab technician, or whatever, if anyone knows it’s probably him.” Leon said, trying to choke back another cough. 

“Did this mystery guy have a name?” You tread lightly with concern while Leon turned and coughed. 

“Luis Sera.” He managed to get out through the violent coughs that shook through his chest. Your hand found his back and you hit him lightly, encouraging him to cough up whatever was causing him trouble up. He could practically feel your questions with each gentle but firm hit. 

“You okay?” He shook his head as he turned away, covering his mouth with the fingerless gloves. The leather scent of them makes it harder to get a gasp of fresh air. 

Worry started to course through your bloodstream as you started to rub his back as soothingly as you could. “Leon-.” You were cut off as his coughing ceased just as quickly as it appeared. 

As he stood upright and pulled his hand away noting the faint color of red before wiping his hand on his pants. Playing it off by reaching for his gun, hoping to all things holy you didn’t see. 

You didn’t, your eyes stayed trained on his face. Looking for any sign that could slightly convince you it was just a fluke; maybe he was allergic to something in the barn that caused him to have a coughing fit. 

Whatever it was, it was enough to send you into a course of action, “We’ve gotta find Sera.” 

Leon just gave you a nod of approval while you turned to Ashley. He watched you tread lightly with a sense of urgency, that damn gut of yours. He closed his eyes tight as he began to feel dizzy. The walls of the barn started to close in while he just stood there trying to compose himself. Eyes still closed, his heart beat racing, his veins starting to show black under his skin. His head pounding, the room spinning, an unfriendly heat surging from his chest, to his feet, to his hands. His eyes opened, but he was  unable to see a thing; blinded by a deep red that faded to black. The only thing he could make out was a threat. 

“Ashley.” You called lightly trying to keep your concern below the surface, “I hate to break what you’re going through up, but we’ve got to move.” Ashley sniffed, before turning to you. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she looked better. Almost how you would expect her to look after crying if this had never happened to her, if an irreversible trauma hadn’t tainted her. 

“Okay, it’s okay. I’m ready.” She said with convection as she stood to meet you. Her blood ran cold when she saw a gun pointed at you with intent to kill. “Stop! Leon!” She shouted in desperation, signaling for you to duck. 

It was in the nick of time as you ducked, the sound of a bullet ringing through your ears; just barely missing the side of your head. You turned and stood upright quickly as you glared Leon down, “What the fuck was that-!” You damn near screamed at him before assessing the situation. You weren’t looking at the Leon you knew, you were looking at someone you had never seen before. “Ashley, hide.” You demanded, trying to keep your voice from wavering. 

Leon went to shoot again, but in a twist of luck  the gun harshly clicked. He was out of bullets and you needed to take advantage of the moment. Charging towards him you sent a harsh kick to his wrist while he reached for ammo with the other. The successful kick knocked the gun out of his hand, but he countered by grabbing your ankle. He yanked you by your leg closer to him, pulling you from the place you tried to plant yourself. 

You managed to break out of his tight grasp by swinging a punch towards his jaw. You stood on both feet while he turned with a pained hiss. When his gaze met yours a guttural growl escaped through gritted teeth. His chest puffed out, his jaw clenched, and his eyes clouded over. He was ready to fight. 

The sight struck the fear of God in you. It made you hesitate, it made you vulnerable; and he took advantage of it. He punched you damn near square in the face, holding nothing back. The force sent you stumbling backwards and seeing white. You kept yourself from falling by focusing on the white noise that rang through your ears. You couldn’t make that mistake again. 

You coughed trying to get some air as you saw him go for another hit. You blocked it and made a swipe for his legs. Trying to buy yourself time so you could figure out a way to de-escalate the situation. You were no match for Leon as far as hand to hand combat was concerned. You fought from a distance, you shot from a distance; foresight was your way of survival. 

As he fell to his knees you tried to put him into a chokehold, but the moment he found his footing you were off the ground. He flung you forcefully over his shoulders and onto solid ground. Your head pounded as you saw stars and swore that your skeleton was permanently imprinted into the ground. Your lungs struggled for air as he firmly pressed his forearm to your throat, straddling your hips. 

You squirm underneath him, kicking and thrashing, desperately searching for a way out. He grabbed his knife from its sheath on his chest. Tears beaded on your lower lashes as you used every ounce of strength in your body to push his solid forearm from your throat. 

His eye contact never faltered as he lifted his knife into the air; ready to take the final step and end this. 

“No! Don’t hurt her!” Ashley shouted causing him to falter. His grip on you loosening enough for you to move your head up enough to clamp your teeth into his flesh while you harshly thrusted upward to allow you some space to get away from him. You quickly tried to scurry away from him, but his attention quickly returned to you. He reaches for your leg and barely misses. You slip through his fingertips and the only thought on your mind is distance. You need to see this situation from a different perspective, it was your only chance. 

Quickly getting to your feet you finally reach for your gun. Despite the way your body shakes you hold the gun firmly, “Don’t make me do this, I don’t want to do this.” You plead, nearly falling to your knees, “Please.”

Leon just grunted as he stood upright, he was hesitant as he stared at you. You didn’t make a single movement thinking that he may have been blinded. Your voice reaches him, causing him to see glances of you between the vision of a monster. He was fighting a monster, he only saw a monster. It was trying to take Ashley, it was trying to take you. It was real, wasn’t it?

“Leon? Can you hear me? Can you see me?” You call out in a whimper you can’t hide. Lowering the gun you took a cautious step forward and then another seeing as he didn’t move. Ashley held her breath looking for anything to help her defend herself if this went south. 

“H-He’s got the virus…h-he can’t see a thing…” Her voice low as she slowly began to talk with a stutter full of fear, “I-I know, because I-I have it too…”

You couldn’t help but to wince, this whole thing was sideways in the worst way. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You could feel your heartbeat in your head as you whispered, “I know, I know.” 

Leon stumbled backwards in confusion as time and his senses meld together as he threw a punch at nothing.

 He sees a large heavy set man, his head replaced with a red wet pulsating organ; long sharp appendages sprouting from his spine and wriggling with malintent. The man goes to attack, but Leon dodges slicing a appendage off with his knife in the process. 

Watching him fight nothing made your heart break. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to help. He was suffering and all you could do was watch. It made you sick and you had to change that. You had to help him. 

“You’ve had these outbursts? How long do they last?”

“They feel like hours…” She admitted, truthfully she had no idea. It was like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“Okay,” you start trying not to lose your temper, “how do you get out of them?”

“I-I don’t know…I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, you’re okay. We’ll figure this out.” Your brain moves a hundred miles a minute as you try to connect the dots. You examine the room looking for an exit, running seeming like the only option. The only out was blocked though and boarded up by Leon only minutes before. 

Another way, there had to be another way. 

Your eyes find the table and your pack on the table. A lightbulb went off as you moved towards it slowly; careful to not alert Leon and keep him in the battle he was currently fighting. Quietly and carefully you pulled out a syringe filled with Amobarbital, a sedative that would send him to the ground. 

You tried not to shake as you started to explain your thought process to Ashley, “I’m going to corner and sedate him. If something goes wrong you need to hide until he comes to, okay? Careful though, don’t make any sudden movements, just stay as still as you can. If he leaves, do not follow.” 

Ashley nodded, finding a disregarded dumpster. She slowly moved towards it and climbed into it.

Her movements were gentle enough to not cause too much of a ruckus as you approached Leon from behind. As she reached for the lid, her palms sweaty and her hands shaking, she tried to pull it down. Crouching in the dumpster she almost made it until she slipped, letting go of the lid. A loud bang caused Leon to stop what he was doing and turned in the direction of the dumpster. Quick and powerful strides being made in her direction were quickly stopped when you started talking. Your tone is firm and demands attention. 

“Flesh and bone. That’s all you are, flesh and bone.” 

Leon turned sharply in your direction, cloudy eyes with the intent to kill. He charged at you with his knife pointing directly at your face. You dodged and he stumbled, but was quick to recover. 

“You remember that? That depressing conversation we had the night before we got here?” He went to throw a punch but you roughly kicked him in the chest sending him backwards. 

“What about the time you were so scared that you hurt me in training and you spent the rest of the night searching for my pulse?” You grunted planting your feet and punched him. You were pissed because this man was not the man that you had grown lovingly accustomed to. The man you had started to fall for. 

All Leon saw was a woman with a bloody knife who spewed memories from her throat. How could she have known that? There is no way she could have known that, but he fought regardless. With a broad stroke he knocked the side of her face with his own blade. 

You wouldn’t have noticed he hit you, if it wasn’t for the sting of your own blood rolling down your cheek. 

You successfully knocked the knife out of his hand as your other hand threw another punch to his jaw. You let out a small breath of shock before going to jab the syringe into his neck, but he caught your hand. He roughly pushed you backwards and against the wall. Your spine suffers as you let out a harsh wince of pain. 

“Fuck, Leon!” You try not to wail as his hand lets go of your fist and goes for your throat. Your free hand finds his wrist as his grip tightens. 

“How do you know that?” He barked the question with such intensity that it caused you to cower against him. “Where is she? What did you do?” 

“L-Leon…” You dryly strangle out, “Me. Look at me…” 

That woman’s voice turned to yours and slowly her features started to become yours. His grip around your throat loosening, starting to become unsure of what was reality. 

“Please…” you begged as you started learning to breathe again, “I know- I know it’s hazy.” You regained your grip on the syringe while the hand still attached to his wrist pushed forward. Your fingers find his index and middle finger and you pull them to your pulse, pressing firmly down so he could find it. So he could feel the pleading beats, identify the blood that coursed through your veins. 

You were pure and untampered and he started to see clearly. Glassy doe eyes peering into his eyes while his calloused fingertips felt the smoothness of your flesh. Your breath hitching in your throat as you saw particles of him returning. 

“(Y-Y/N)?” He stutters out, like a whimper still unsure, but questioning. You nodded and for a moment you thought you saw a light at the end of the tunnel. You were ready to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness. 

But you always paid the price. The sound of wood breaking as a body slammed through the boarded up doorway. A tall, dark, greasy man stumbling through trying to catch his breath caused Leon’s grip on you to tighten. 

The oxygen leaves you quicker than it took you to breathe in. 

“Am I interrupting?” The man asked, causing Leon to lose his focus and you took advantage of the moment to stab the syringe harshly into his throat. Your thumb harshly pushing down on the plunger as you injected the sedative into his bloodstream. He let go of you, causing you to fall to your knees as harsh coughs rake through your chest. 

Leon sways slightly as he pulls the empty syringe from his neck. He blinks, the barn becoming clear to him now. Falling to his knees he looks at you, the utter terror on your face makes his blood run cold. Your wide eyes,  blood trailing from your cheek and down your neck, and the way your body trembles is the last thing he sees before he goes unconscious.

It takes a minute, but you crawl over to him and pull him into your lap. You find his pulse and he seems stable as you let out a shaky breath that you’ve been holding. You curl around him, tears pouring down your face as you try to keep yourself under control. The nightmare was over and you have never felt as sick as you did now. 

“Miss?” The man calls for you and you fist Leon’s shirt holding his body to yours before glaring daggers at the man.  

“Luis Sera?” You ask him, your voice low as it wryly escapes from dry lips. He saw all he needed to see to know that you were with Leon. 

“Sí.” He confirmed. 

“I need a cure.” 

———————————————————

Leon bumped shoulders with some agents, but he couldn’t care less as he ran down the hall and down the stairs. He was on his own mission and if he took a single moment you could be gone. His heart raced as he took the stairs to the final level of the building and out the side door. His eyes scan the dimly lit parking lot for your frame and he finds it against your car. He sees you reach for the door handle and he calls for you, “Hey!”

You are startled slightly, but you turn to look at him. You send him a warm smile and a little wave as he jogs to your side. Normally he’d send you warm regards back, but he was upset. 

“Slow your roll there, pretty boy. You’ve seen the way these people drive through this parking lot. Without a care in the world, granted I’m not one to talk.” You joke, your tone is light and airy. Your relaxed posture is a clear juxtaposition of his own.

“You’re transferring?” Your brows knitted together as your once small smile turned to a frown. 

“They told you, huh?” 

“They did.” His heart broke, having no choice but to believe it now that you confirmed it. 

“I was going to tell you over drinks this weekend.” You defend yourself with a shrug. 

“They also told me that you left out the barn incident in your debriefing.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the both of you as he looked at your bandaged cheek. He shut his eyes in pain, having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he could’ve killed someone he cared so deeply for. It was only a moment of relief though until the image of you so frightened of him appeared behind his eyelids. You were so scared, you were so scared of him. He shook it off with a deep breath as he opened his eyes, “If you’re leaving because of that, because of what I did, I swear to you that I will never work with you on a mission again.” 

Your eyes softened and you wanted to reach for him, but couldn’t. “Lee, no, that has nothing to do with the transfer. I trust you with my life.” 

It took everything in him to not wince at your words. How could you say that? How could you possibly mean that? After everything, you still genuinely trusted him. 

“Then why-?” 

“Because I felt like it was something they didn’t need to know the details of, so I wrote it off. Got in trouble for it, but they connected the dots from yours and Ashley’s reports. It’s all they needed.” 

“I…” He started, he had so much he wanted to say. He didn’t know where to start, he didn’t know how to handle this. “I don’t understand.” You just smile at him. His heart melted, but couldn’t bring himself to return your smile. 

“I don’t either.” You reassure him, “They’ve got a couple loose ends to tie up and they want me to finish the job, so I took the position. It’s only supposed to be temporary or did you even let them get that far before running out here?” 

He didn’t, he just left. Which he shouldn’t have, but hindsight was something he was still working on. A short laugh escaped him before admitting it to you, “No.”

You giggled as your hand went to cover your growing smile. You both soaked up this sense of normalcy for a minute, basking in the glow of each other. 

“You are something else, Kennedy.” 

“In a good or bad way?” His tone was flirtatious as he relaxed slightly. 

“A bit of both, just how I like it.” You gaze at him through half lidded eyes. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to pull you to his chest and kiss you so deeply that he would still linger on your lips as you drove home. 

He didn’t, as a fear of your rejection crept up his neck. He hasn’t laid a finger on you since you both had gotten back, not wanting to trigger your fight or flight reflexes. It was a miracle that you didn’t start running the opposite direction when you saw him. He’d let you come to him, he refused to force himself upon you. No matter how badly he needed to feel you. 

“When do you leave?” 

“Next week.” It hurt to finally confront, “Why? You want to throw me a going away party in the break room?” You joked, trying to cover up the pain in your voice. 

“Absolutely.” He said with a smile and you just rolled your eyes. 

“I’ll pass, but if you want to go out for drinks?” You ask, raising a brow. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He chuckled, his brain beginning to stumble over the word temporary. “How long is temporary, by the way?” 

“Hey, we have to have something to discuss over drinks.” You didn’t want to break it to him now that temporary meant almost two years. Your lips form a tight smile that didn’t fool him, but he understood. 

“Right.” An awkwardness starts to clog his throat, “You also didn’t mention Ada in your reports either.” 

You sighed, refusing to look at him as your stomach turned into an empty pit, “I’m afraid that’s another topic I’ll have to save until I have some alcohol in my system.” His brows knitted together and he sighed. Every conversation starter leads him to a dead end. Every excuse to spend more time with you coming up short. 

“I understand.” He didn’t, but he was willing to be patient. He owed you more than just his patience. 

“Listen, I’ve gotta get going. I’m meeting an old friend for dinner and breaking the transfer news to them as well. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You go to open your car door and he just watches you run from him. Unable to move or speak as he prepares himself to wallow in the depression of your absence. 

“Tomorrow, Princess.” Your heart flutters at the nickname as you crack a smile. You get into the car and start the engine. You roll your window down and take a final look at him, your chest blossoming despite everything. 

“You still have stuff to do so don’t start something you can’t finish.” He smiles as you put the car in reverse and back out of your parking spot. “Goodnight, dear.” You shout from your window before rolling your window up and driving away from him. Leaving him in an empty parking lot while he waved you away. Leon let out a heavy sigh as his hands found their way into his pockets. 

His thoughts ran wild as he tried to think of a way to fix this.  

[beanzwrites]

since you write for spn, what about something where the reader is Sam and Dean's little sister and yk when in season 2 they go to the Roadhouse- well, maybe She meets Ash and she gets a crush on him and when they go to the Roadhouse She always stay with him? And maybe they also notice that she has Ash's ring (yeah in my mind he wears a ring with the scrabble's A) and they're like, teasing her, expecially Dean, saying things like 'oh, why don't you come ti the Roadhouse with us? We're pretty sure there's someone waiting for you' and it's just fluff with Ash? Thank you so much, even if you don't write it :3

"Your Frog Prince is Waiting~"

A/n: Thank you so much for the request; it's my very first one! I hope you enjoy! I'm not used to writing Ash, so I apologize if he seems a bit out of character; I tried my best.

Dean x Sister! reader x Sam, Ash x reader

Warnings: Cursing, potential cringe pet names, teenage crush

Description: As the Winchesters spend more time at the Roadhouse, the youngest gains a little crush on one of the residents. 😊

Latin Translation: mnemosynum (Keepsake)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The inside of the saloon was quiet as Dean shuts the creaking front door. All of the lights were off besides a sparking LED light hanging behind the bar. The place was grim, the sun casting through the ragged curtains seeming to be the only bright thing in the place.

(Y/n) stays close to her brothers as they venture deeper inside, only to bump into Sam as he stops suddenly. Her older brother barely spares her a glance, his attention caught on the boy laying across a pool table a few feet away.

"Oh god... is he dead?" She murmurs, eying him with slight trepidation. Sam shrugs in response.

"Hey, Buddy?" Sam calls out, taking a step forward. No response. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

"You think?" (Y/n) snaps, observing the backside of the stranger. Sam snorts in response, before heading towards the back. "Sammy? Sammy, where are you going?"

"Stick beside me, squirt." Dean's voice says lowly, "We don't really know what's going on here."

(Y/n) turns to him to make a sarcastic response, but pales as she sees a woman press a gun to his back. "Dean..."

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle..."

"No, I'm just real happy to see you," the woman responds, cocking the gun.

(Y/n) took a step forward, only for the woman to dig the head of the gun deeper into Dean's back. "Don't move, or I'll shoot his spine out."

"Don't move -- copy that," (Y/n) repeats, making eye contact with her brother with a dry swallow.

"You should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back, 'cause it makes it real easy to do..." Dean rambles before turning around swiftly and stealing the rifle away from the woman's grip.

Before Dean can stand his ground fully, the woman throws a full punch at his face, causing him to stagger as she pulls the gun back to her.

"Sammy-" (Y/n) calls in alarm.

"Sorry..." Sam states as he comes back out with his hands over his head, "Can't help right now, I'm a little tied up."

The older woman who has Sam hostage eyes the two men for a moment before glancing at the young girl standing with a distressed look on her face. "Winchesters?"

"Yeah," both (Y/n)'s brothers say in unison.

"Son of a bitch," she laughs, putting her revolver in her back pocket. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter, Jo."

---

"He didn't send you..." Ellen pauses, a look of sadness washing over her expression. Neither (Y/n) or her brothers responded as each of them look away from her. The pain of losing their father is still fresh in their heart. "He's alright, isn't he?"

No," Sam finally states with a sigh, "he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um... it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're all right," Dean says.

"Really, I know how close you and your Dad-"

"Really, Lady, I'm fine," Dean interjects with a stern look. (Y/n) gently places her hand on his thigh before looking at Ellen with the shake of her head.

"So, look, if you can help..." Sam announces, trying to change the subject, "We could use all the help we can get."

"Well, We can't," Ellen replies, "but Ash will."

"Who's Ash?" (Y/n) questions.

Ellen snorts before yelling out the name. As a response, the guy from before swiftly gets up with a groan. Balls fly from the table as he looks around to where his name was being called, his long hair flipping back and forth erratically.

"What?" Ash's voice booms, looking over at the group huddled by the bar, "closing time?"

---

"You got to be kidding me. This guy's no genius," Dean grumbles, "He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd Roadie!"

"Dean, give him a chance." (Y/n) grumbles out, kicking him slightly in the leg. Ash cheekily smiles and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Alright. Well, this stuff's about a year's worth of out dad's work," Dean shares as he sits down, "Let's see what you make of it."

Ash looks over the papers that Dean slid over, and scowls. "Come on, this crap ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

"How do you know?" (Y/n) questions, "Our dad was really good at it."

"Well, sweet cheeks. These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean... damn. They're signs, omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon- You know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning?" (Y/n) shakes her head in response as he looks at her, "It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asks, giving Ash the stink eye.

"Yeah, with this, I think so."

"Really? How long?" (Y/n) questions with the quirk of her brow.

"It's gonna take time. Give me, 51 hours."

"You can really track down a demon in the span of over two days? I gotta say, that's impressive."

"Oh, you'll be impressed." Ash says with a smirk, "It'll be just like fine wine."

(Y/n) didn't say anything as her face flushes.

---

"That kid's hair was something else," Dean chuckles out as they go back to Bobby's car. "Looked more like a rat's nest to me."

"I don't know, I kinda liked it," (Y/n) responds with a small smile.

"Liked it?" Dean speaks, whipping his head around, "You mean to tell me you'd get your hair cut that way too?"

"No! What I meant is, it suited him. Not everyone could pull it off," (Y/n) speaks, climbing into the back of the van.

"Yeah, if you call that a suited haircut..."

"Do you really think he'll be able to track Dad's demon in 51 hours?" Sam asks, looking out the passenger side window.

"Psh, my bet is no. Dad spent his entire hunting career looking for that thing. There is no way a kid who sleeps on a pool table can top that!"

"I say he will," (Y/n) replies matter-of-factly.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just got a good feeling about him, is all."

---

"Did you find the demon?" Sam's breath tickles the back of (Y/n)'s head as he leans over her. Ash sets his computer down, casually placing his arm beside hers as he types away.

"It's nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find. If this fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

"You can really be alerted right away?" (Y/n) asks with awe.

"Any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm."

"That's amazing..."

"Where did you learn to do all this?" Sam gasps in amazement.

"M.I.T., before I got bounced for fighting." Ash explains with a somewhat embarrassed look on his face.

"What was the fighting about?" (Y/n) responds, amusement crossing over her face.

Ash looks over at her with amusement of his own, "Wouldn't you like to know, sugar cube."

"Okay!" Dean says as he gets up from the table, "Give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre."

(Y/n) gets up from her seat, going to head after her brothers who already made their way back to the front, before being stopped by Ash.

"Hey, sugar cube. I wanna give ya somethin' before you hit the road," Ash says, as he leans against one of the chairs.

"Oh? And what's that?" (Y/n) replies with a flirtatious simper.

"Give me your hand," Ash says simply, "and you'll get your big surprise."

"Okay..." (Y/n) chuckles, reaching her arm out. Ash grabs at her wrist softly, eyeing each one of her fingers before placing something cool to the touch over her middle finger.

"mnemosynum," Ash announces with a bow, granting her access to what he put on her. A bulk piece of metal clung to her slim finger; the initial A engraved in it. "Until we meet again."

"Why?" (Y/n) asks. It's not that she didn't like it; it was quite charming. She was just slightly confused on why she got the gift in the first place.

"I have a good feeling about you, sweet cheeks. I think we are going to be tight these next couple months," Ash announces, "You can keep that, by the way."

"Thanks... You know, I can say the same thing for you."

"Is that so?"

"It's so."

---

"Come on, kiddo. We gotta get going," Dean says as he grabs his keys from the top of the motel's mini fridge.

"Why's that?" (Y/n) responds, not looking up from her book. "I thought you and Sammy were just going to the town over."

"We need some info," Dean pauses as he checks out the ring on his sister's finger, "and I'm sure your roadkill boyfriend would love to see you."

"He's not roadkill, Dean!" (Y/n) shouts, slamming her book shut. "And he's not my boyfriend!"

"Sure, and you aren't red as a tomato right now," Dean smirks. "Seriously though, we gotta go, so... get to moving, princess. Your frog prince is waiting~"

[lost-walmartbag]

SP characters as dads pt 3!

Warning: None just fluff

Background: You and your husband are first-time parents. You and Craig, You and Tweek, and You and Tolkien try to navigate being the best parents you can be.

Status: Request Open

Previous part

Next part

Craig

You place your son in a large kiddy pool that only had at most an inch of water. You sit inside with him drinking lemonade and putting sunglasses on your face. Cameron slashes around in the water moving his small duck toys around.

Craig pulls into the driveway seeing you sitting inside the kiddy pool. He walks up giving a small smile seeing Cameron in a pair of his own baby sunglasses.

"What are you doing?" He asks you.

"Beating the heat. Your son and I were dying inside so here we are. You wanna join?" You ask looking up at him.

Cameron looks up at his dad and coos happily. Craig sighs and goes inside the house coming back out in swim trunks. He tries to step into the pool with you but you stop him.

"Not so fast~" You tease handing him a pair of sunglasses and a cup of lemonade.

He rolls his eyes and takes them both stepping inside and sitting across from you and Cameron. Cameron coos and splashes water onto Craig. Craig frowns and slashes Cameron back.

Cameron pouts and splashes Craig again. You sit back watching it happen smiling until Craig splashes Cameron's face. You frown and splash Craig's face back.

"Hey don't splash my baby." You say rubbing Cameron's back.

"Hey thought I was your baby too." Craig teases giving you a peck on the lips

Cameron whines making you both look over at him seeing him crawling over to Craig and climbing on his lap. Craig smiles and sits him down comfortably. Cameron looks up at you and points at you.

"Why is he pointing at me?" You ask taking off your sunglasses.

Craig smirks and pulls a small water gun that was next to him and shoots you with it.

"Yo not cool I thought we were a team Cam!" You squeal as you feel the cold water on you.

Cameron burst into giggles and starts clapping. You raise a brow and put your sunglasses back on.

"Oh, so it's like that?" You ask pulling out your own water gun. Cameron looks up at Craig and you start counting down from ten.

Craig laughs and gets up with Cameron running around the yard as you chase them shooting water at Craig. Craig slowly falls down slowly making sure Cameron was safely put on the grass. Craig plays dead and holds his chest sticking his tongue out.

You walk over to Cameron and he looks up at you and quickly starts crawling away but then slowly starts standing up and taking a few steps. You gasp and drop your gun.

"Craig look!" You squeal.

Craig opens his eyes and looks over seeing Cameron walking. He quickly gets up and laughs rushing to him. Craig picks him up and throws him up in the air and catches him.

"I'm so proud of you!" He says kissing his cheek making him giggle.

You smile and take a picture of the two boys smiling brightly.

Tweek

You came back from work putting your bag down gently as the house was so quiet. You walk into the living room and see Tara sleeping on the couch as Tweek kneels down next to her watching her closely.

"Honey?" You whisper making him jump.

He looks over at you and waves you over. You kneel down next to him watching as Tara's stomach slowly rises with every breath.

"She's so beautiful when she sleeps." You whisper. "We should put her in the crib."

"But we won't be able to watch her from there as well as here. What if she rolls over and suffocates?" He asked.

"Baby we've had this talk already." You say kissing his cheek softly. "She'll be ok."

You gently pick her up and take her to the nursery. Tweek follows closely behind watching nervously.

"Be careful." He mutters as you place Tara in the crib.

You put her down and lead Tweek out of the room. You let out a sigh and hold his hands.

"Baby I'm very glad you are worried about Tara's safety, but I feel like you don't trust me to be alone with her." You say.

"W-what oh my god, I'm so sorry I didn't know you felt that way." He said holding your hands

"I know you don't mean to do it but baby you need to understand Tara is going to be ok. You're an amazing dad when she's with you she's safe. You don't need to hover over her." You say cupping his cheek and kissing him softly.

"You're an amazing mom I'm sorry I made you feel that way," Tweek says.

You smile and before you could kiss him again Tara starts crying making Tweek panic and burst into the room. You sigh but crack a small smile following closely behind him.

Tolkien

Ever since you gave birth to the twins Tolkien suggested getting a nanny but you wanted to be with the babies. Tolkien had been busy working so when he told you that he had a week off you took advantage of it.

At first, you let him rest but after a day or two you wanted to spend time as a family. You went shopping and to waterparks but after a while, you got tired and wanted to do something simple.

"Tolkien baby can you come here!" You yell from the baby's rooms.

He walks in smiling brightly when seeing the twin dressed up for a day in the park. "Well, don't you both look amazing." He says kissing the tops of their heads. "Now what did you need my love?"

"Can you please grab the baby's hat it's on the top of the closet and My back is killing me." You say with a pout.

"Oh, are you ok?" He asks grabbing the twin's hats. He puts a purple sunhat on Thea and a green baseball cap on Theo. He then goes behind you and rubs your shoulders.

"I really needed this baby." You say letting out a sigh.

He hums and kisses your cheek softly.

"Honey we don't need to go out today if you aren't feeling well. I'm good staying with the babies while you go get a massage." He says hugging you.

"Baby I can't. We hardly spend time together as a family and you're going back to work in 2 days I want to make the best of this." You say with a pout.

"Is that what the constant going out is about?" He asks with a chuckle.

"Well yeah, the twins are only small for so long. I want us to have some memories as a family." You say.

"Well, how about this I take a few more days off and we make the most of our time together and you get to relax as much as you can at the same time?" He asks holding onto you tightly.

"Really?"

"Really. So you go get yourself ready and I will use that holder thingy to take these little pumpkins outta here." He says kissing you softly

You smile and get ready quickly when you walk to the living room you see Tolkien with Thea on the right side of his chest and Theo on the left. You laugh seeing him like that.

"Hey, it's not funny," Tolkien says with a chuckle.

"Oh, its very funny stay like that lemme just." You pull out your phone taking a picture as Tolkien and the twins laugh.

A/N: Hey guys I love making these but I'm running out of people so plz plz plz lemme know who the next 3 people should be for the next part. Also I've been thinking about it since the first part but fanart of the guys with the babies would be so freaking cute 😫😫. But other than that thanks for reading love you all 🩷🩷🩷

[camels-pen]

moms always find it

summary:

It's just one ecto-pen, his mom won't find the other stuff he's got hidden around his room.

Probably.

based on @echoghost1's prompt "Danny has lost something important and Mom has started to help him look. Unfortunately, he's got a habit of using his powers to store things in odd places and she isn't going to give up until they find it."

Ao3 Link | Phight '24 series

“Really, it’s not a big deal—”

“Nonsense!” Mom said, violently stripping the covers from his bed. “That was an important and practical invention!”

Danny held up his hands. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to lose it.” Didn’t mean to shout that he’d lost it either. “But I can look through my room on my own,” —with his powers, because 9 times out of 10 it was in the walls or furniture somewhere—“you really don’t have to… help like this.”

Mom threw the sheets on the ground, then turned to face him as she reached for his mattress. “Well, young man, I wouldn’t have to rummage around your room if you kept track of your things. Especially, prototype inventions like the Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4 Ink Utensil,” she said with a huff. “Now either you help me look or—”

As Mom started to lift the mattress, Danny spotted a piece of something silver and green sticking directly out of his bed frame.

“Don’t lift that!” he yelled, jumping atop his mattress.

Mom shrieked as she yanked her hands back. “Daniel James Fenton, be careful! You could’ve taken my fingers off!” She glared at him. “I know you’re a growing boy, I’m not going to judge you for whatever magazines you keep to yourself, but really never do that again.”

As much as Danny would love to defend himself, there was a stunning lack of any and all other excuses he could possibly make at the moment. All his usual wit went down the toilet the moment Mom’s knee-jerk reaction was to assume he had R rated magazines hidden under his bed.

“As I was saying the Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4—”

“Ecto-pen.”

She furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”

He laughed stiffly. “Well, you know, ‘Fenton Ecto-gun Mk 4 Ink Utensil’ is a bit of a mouthful, right? So, we’ve been calling it an ecto-pen.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “We?"

“Yeah—me, Sam, and Tucker.”

“Danny,”—ugh, there’s the ‘you’re in trouble’ voice—“how many times do we have to tell you: no letting your friends operate our inventions. They don’t have the safety training.”

Danny furrowed his brows. “What safety training?”

“Oh haha, very funny.” She crouched down to check under his desk. “I know your father went over it with you kids ages ago. Trying to pretend you don’t remember so you can show off to your friends is not acceptable young man.”

Hmm. Best to just agree and move on. “Right. Yeah, of course. Can’t get anything by you, Mom.”  

Danny’s eyes roamed the room and he sighed in relief. Nothing out of place—

There was a spool of anti-ghost fishing wire sticking out of the carpet by Mom’s foot.

“Well, it’s not under there.”

Danny rolled off the bed and scrambled against the ground. Mom startled, bumping her head against the underside of his desk with a hiss. Danny managed to slap a hand over the spool and push it all the way into the floor before she leaned back to scowl at him.

“Danny, what do you think you’re doing?”

Danny gulped. “Just… hanging?”

Mom narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down. Her gaze drew to his outstretched hand, still partially cupped against the carpet. She dragged a hand down her face.

“We’re going to be having a talk later.”

“We can have a talk now.”

“Not a talk,” she said. “The talk.”

“Huh?” The gears in his head clicked together. “Oh. OH.” Danny waved his hands. “NO! That is absolutely NOT necessary. Actually, you know what? Dad’s already told it to me so you can just not worry about it, just like the safety training!”

“Your father hasn’t taken the puppets out of storage yet, but nice try.” Mom pushed herself up. “And clearly, it is necessary. Magazines are one thing, but if you’ve already gotten to condoms and possibly other people then it’s time for some parental advice.” Mom tutted. “We have to teach you to keep yourself healthy, sweetie.”

“How did you get—?” Danny stood too, holding out his hands. “Look, nothing here! No condoms or anything! And why did you jump straight to condoms?!”

“How do I know you didn’t hide them down your sleeve—”

“I’m wearing a t-shirt!”

Mom threw her arms out. “Well, what am I supposed to think? You never let me in your room anymore and you’re kicking up such a fuss while I look for our prototype, I kept finding weird stains on the carpet earlier, and you keep being sarcastic and temperamental—”

Something plipped on her hand and she looked up, mouth open to keep ranting before abruptly cutting herself off.

“Uh.” Danny waved at her. She didn’t move. It was like she was frozen like a statue. “Mom? You okay?”

“Up.”

“Up?”

Slowly, Mom pointed upwards. Danny followed her finger, staring up at the ceiling.

Oh.

Up.

There were dozens of Fenton brand inventions partially phased into the ceiling. The top half of the Fenton Ghost Fisher, the buckle of the Fenton Specter Deflector, a banged up knob from the Fenton Booo-merang, the glowing radar from the Fenton Finder, and one of the wheels from a Fenton Skateboard.

And, of course, half of the Fenton Ecto-Pen, dripping ink onto the carpet and Mom’s outstretched hand.

There was a long, heavy pause.

“So,” Danny said, slow and drawn out. “You remember that one time you sent me to magic camp?”

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Too Fine Too Be Normal

@lexosaurus @hannahmanderr @zombiemerlin

When outsiders have to deal with any member of the weirdo trio it really is best to just roll with the punches. Plus, Orson actually LIKES his techy internet buddy; so what if he’s some kind of superhero pharaoh or something?

Orson blinks at his screen, not for the first time feeling confused and baffled over TooFine’s chat comments.

TooFine: brb gotta go eat a bat, nightshade found the plant paint I covered her fruit tree in

He’s assuming what the guy means is that ‘nightshade’, TooFine’s friend, is trying to hit him with a baseball bat. Strange and extreme but at least this time he’s not claiming to have ‘accidentally fallen into another dimension’. Whenever TooFine leaves suddenly it’s always wildy outlandish stories. Certainly there’s no way he thinks Orson actually believes them right? Yes it was very funny anyways. Reading TF’s impressive imagination always made him feel a little better about life, like even if your life is simple and plain you can bring some crazy into it with your mind.

Sometimes though, it’s clear he’s actually telling the truth, like that one time they were on voice chat and Orson dad popped in to try and convince him to let him teach him how to hunt again, Orson liked meat but he had zero desire to actually go and kill things. But TF started talking guns too, apparently that thing about TF’s in person friend having parents who made weapons was very much true. TF impressed Orson’s dad, meaning his dad now approved of the friendship. At least TF didn’t bring up that ‘ectoplasm’ stuff while his dad was around, the last thing Orson wanted was his dad thinking all his online friends were crazy too. His dad definitely didn’t believe the claim that TF’s friends parents also had a modified military vehicle they used on the actual road; something about how military treads can’t be used on roads because they’re too damaging. TF followed that up with ‘our roads can withstand some pretty heavy artillery’, Orson’s chuckle and eye roll probably convinced his dad that TF was screwing around with him a little.

Either way, hopefully TF gets back in time to keep helping him with this stupid drone he’s trying to build. He’d love to be able to go get the mail without having to actually go outside, so much wasted effort when he’d rather be gaming or reading. Then he gets a voice chat request, the voice that comes through is not TF’s

“Oh shit hey, you actually picked up, wow I can’t believe he made an outsider friend. Weird”, this new teen clears his throat, “okay so, Nightshade actually might have knocked him out in a fit of rage? So he’ll be a bit- hey! No! Put that down! You don’t get to hit him again just because I’m protecting his PDA!”.

TF actually used a PDA? Such old tech? Why? Weird.

“Emilie is PINK! PINK!”.

The boy teen groans, “ugh. Goths. Anyway, while he’s out, he give you any ideas for a good birthday gift? I’ve been banned from giving him weapons or explosives, and the last time I got him a souped up hard drive he hacked the federal government and filed the presidents taxes for some insane reason”.

Orson blinks, “I think he’s been talking a lot about electric cars and electric bikes? What happened after he… did the presidents taxes?”. He really just wants to know where this guy was going to take that level of bullshit.

“I’d rather ideas that don’t require me to steal my rich arch enemy uncles credit card. And eh, nothing much, just got abducted by some secret service folks up into the Appalachian mountains for some ‘one on one’ talks time. He got some new wicked scars out of it even, one looks like a hockey stick! I don’t even have one like that yet! But hey, what’s life without a few abductions here and there? The gov loves shooting me!”.

Orson makes a face, alright so were TF’s friends just as bad as him? Shaking his head, “get him a lock picking kit then, in case anyone abducts him with handcuffs or something”. What the actual hell? He absolutely has to google this.

“Oh that’s not bad-oh hey buddy! You good? No lumps and bumps? No booboos or owies?”.

“You jerk, I’m fine. Why is she still armed!”.

“Emile. Is. PINK”.

“It suits her!”.

“She’s a black apple tree! Pink is never her colour!”.

Oh so the goth did actually name her plants, odd but not insane. And yeah, a hacker did actually do the presidents taxes… weird. There’s no way that was actually TF right? Was he friends with an actual hacker?

“Oh T I totally voice called, or whatever, your online buddy? It seemed like the chat was recent and shit so you know”.

“Man, you are way too overprotective and way too much of a mother hen for a dead guy. Gimme that”.

“Hey at least dead hens can shoot laser beams out of their mouths, way cooler than living ones”.

TF clearly has his… PDA back, “you’re still working on that ‘let me be lazy’ drone right?”.

Orson blinks, “yes, but real talk, did you actually file the presidents taxes?”.

“Oh my zone! DP you shit head! Ugh, look the guy was trying to embezzle my towns funding to buy another yacht, so I figured hey why not forcibly report all his off shore accounts and that weird charity donation to a Russian network. I also might have gone after all his staff too? They weren’t impressed but I call anarchy and how was I supposed to know his people would actually not suck at tracking people?”.

“T, dude, I’m pretty sure the federal government and the goddamn president have better tracking than those G.I.W. morons”.

“Are you going to fix Emilie or what!”.

“Never”.

Orson flips through google results a little more and yeah, a ton of people got hacked for taxes… Hell Orson even stumbles on a whistle blower data leak about ties to Russia that he nopes out of real quick. “TF bud, that’s super concerning”.

“Heh. Fair enough and- oh shit!”. There’s an actual explosion over the line. “Hey, you wanna actually witness shit for a change, because good goddamn. DP! Have you been skipping sleep again! Why is the goddamn sleep god throwing a building at us!”.

What.

You know what.

Fuck it.

Orson sends the zoom invite, it’s accepted immediately. It’s actual pure chaos. There’s shouting, what looks like a sentient star cover blank wearing a mask in the sky, a glowing black and white teen throwing actual everything forbid bath bombs at the thing in the sky. TF looks like he’s from freaking ancient Egypt, with a helm on and everything. Then a bunch of glowing vines shove TF out of screen, a girl in a green and black body suit with a freaking cape chasing after.

For a second he’s wondering if TF is playing a massive prank on him and somehow created a hyper realistic superhero show set up. The… PDA is pointed up at the sky as the voice of the guy who started the voice chat shouts, “I HAVE MIDTERMS! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!”.

The blanket creature shouting back, “SLEEP!”.

“Oh yeah I guess I should have seen that one coming”.

Okay so. TF’s friend, whose parents make weapons, is a superhero or something? Google to the rescue.

TF shouts, “why are you stabbing me! There’s a god in the sky! Fight him!”.

“Naw, UnderGrowth actually likes Nocturne, since sleeping humans aren’t actively polluting Mother Nature”.

“Fuck that stupid grass stain”.

“I’m going to end you”.

Orson blinks at his phone, DP, Danny Phantom. A real person, in a real town, that looked like a real superhero. It’s that rumoured haunted town actually, a real haunted town. What the actual hell? Is he friends with a superhero or sidekick? Who’s also a hacker? And eats a concerning amount of meat without getting sick somehow? Has all the stories he’s been getting, and not reacting strongly too, been real??? Alright, okay, gotta play it cool self. He probably actually thought Orson was taking him seriously and has decided that Orson passed some kind of weirdness meter test. This was basically almost an identity reveal wasn’t it? Holy crap he’s involved in a real life comic book secret identity reveal.

The ‘Nocturne’ guy gets blasted into a wall, DP pelting It with eggs he got from somewhere. The Nocturne holding up a massive canister over Its head, “YOU WILL FAIL IF YOU DO NOT SLEEP!”.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit”, TF comes sorta back on screen, grabbing up his PDA, the ‘facial markings’ don’t look like make up, it looks like it’s part of his skin. “Okay okay, so that right up there is a massive thing of halothane vapour from the looks of it, fun. So we’re all probably gonna pass out here, feel free to disconnect if shit gets boring”.

Orson squeaks a little, “boring? You get up to some insane shit. Why is a… sleep god? Trying to knock y’all out?”. Roll with the punches, gotta roll with the punches. Freak out later.

TF snickers, “DP doesn’t get enough sleep and has been frustrating this ghost since he formed. God’s am I right? Ha!”.

“Get back here you!”.

“Oh for crying out loud! I’ll fix your freaking plant okay! Ugh!”. TF gets smacked into a wall all by the plant girl anyways.

Orson eyes the parts of his drone before looking back to the screen, “why are you helping a random friend you made, build a drone when this crap is going on?”. Because it seriously has to be asked.

TF uses sand to push himself out of the wall rubble, “eh, normalicy is nice and shit, plus you’re impressively chill. I bring up sneaking into a death gods liquor cabinet and you just give me a ‘that’s nice, have fun. Don’t hospitalise yourself’. Sure, Red’s chill but she’s more DP’s friend”, smirking, “and his ex, plus she rides a hoverboard and shoots ghosts so…”.

Oh okay, so there’s a fourth one. This is completely insane. Whelp. Guess he’s in it now though. Orson shrugging, “I’ve always been a pretty laid back guy, though this is definitely the craziest thing I’ve seen. Way worse than that chic on drugs or something who was trying to bite people”.

“Oh yeah drugs are bad, way worse than hacking regardless what the government has to say about it”.

Then the canister explodes, giving Orson a serious anxiety spike as bits of metal impale in things and gas starts going everywhere. DP actually does a comedic salute in the air before just falling to the ground. The Nocturne guy looks very pleased with Itself and actually wraps around the probably unconscious teen, hissing at the plant girl when she tries to approach.

TF cringing, “stupid obsessive ghosts. DP looks like he’s been bent like a shrimp”, TF moving his PDA camera and yeah the black and white teens position is kinda shrimp like.

All Orson can think to say is, “great, now I’m hungry”.

TF laughing while hurling a fist full of sand, “HA! Yeah sushi would be great right now”.

“You disgust me”.

“NONE SHALL DISTURB HIS SLUMBER!”.

Was it normal for ‘villains’ to seemingly baby heroes? Because that’s what this looks like. Nocturne literally just wants the black and white teen to sleep, that’s it. Weird. And then freaking pillow monsters??? Start storming the screen, TF and Nightshade/plant girl doing battle with them. The zoom gets cut out so Orson is just going to assume the device got broke.

…

Okay.

So.

That happened.

One question, well many really, but why is someone so tech focused going with a freaking Egyptian theme? Nightshade made sense, he’s pretty sure even her ‘code name’ is actually a plant. And DP was, well, a literal ghost so the Phantom name made sense. Weird that ghosts were actually real still. Yes he’s seen some stuff about them on the news occasionally but it still seemed so far fetched. And he’s pretty sure he saw some people dressed up as DP at last years comic con.

Weird.

Very weird.

Well. Nothing for it now. So he sends TF a message asking if he’s good. It takes multiple hours but….

TooFine: we’re good, DP’s still out cold and has been abducted into a sleep gods lair but like, we good. Sleepy Blanket won’t try to skin him like some people.

OriOri: that’s good? I mean, his skin would probably make a poor blanket?

TooFine: HA! Thats the kinda joke DP would make! He’ll be proud

TooFine: he’ll be proud whenever he wakes up

TooFine: and when Sleepy Blanket stops acting like a crazy dragon protecting its horde

TooFine: and when he finds his way back to the land of living

OriOri: it’ll be a while

TooFine: good. He really should sleep more

TooFine: the dumbass

OriOri: if he gets so little his pissed off god then yeah. That’s impressive actually

TooFine: you have no idea. Anyways, tots sorry for dipping on your little project. I’d offer Techy’s services as make up but he’s an idiot with newer tech

Orson has no clue who that is and isn’t going to ask.

OriOri: at this point I’m more curious why the heck you went with an Egyptian theme for a guy who hacks the federal gov and makes visual horror games

TooFine: eh, it would be kinda weird if a reincarnated pharaoh wasn’t Egyptian themed, you know how it is. Technically you don’t but you know you know

Orson sighs, this was so weird. But he is so not going to let on that he never believe the shit TF said.

OriOri: I guess? Now do you know how to better connect female usb c to an hdmi, cause it’s pissing me off

TooFine: *snort*

TooFine: but of course I do. Debendint on how far you need the connection to work you might have to bike something from scratch. I tots got blueprints and they are definitely not stolen from the fbi terror investigations unit. Definitely not.

Orson was probably going to get arrested one day because of this, but screw it, TF was fun to talk too and made his mostly boring life more interesting. Not interesting enough to ever consider moving to the guys nightmare town though. Not a chance in Hell.

End.

Prompts: Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? Nocturne takes a liking to Danny and decides to help teach him a lesson, whether Danny wants it or not. Outsider POV. Tucker makes a new online acquaintance, and will casually allude to the crazy shit he and his friends get up to while ghost hunting. The new acquaintance thinks Tucker is just embellishing the truth, until…