#the authors notes plus the tags have me :blurry eyes:

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

Fic Rec Friday!

This week's fic rec is If The Universe Was Merciful by bloop_im_a_frog_now (@bloop-im-a-frog-now)

First of all, YES. Angsty and amazing in it. I am also SO looking forward to learning what the tag "Jellie is an Eldritch Being" means :eyes:

And! If i'm not mistaken, the second chapter is out today! YAY!

It's a very good read, very much recommend ^-^

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Snowed In

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Tags: So much fluff, established relationship, discussions of Christmas, the aftermath of brief peril/threat of drowning and hypothermia, cock warming, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before you tap it please), shades of Dom!Frankie, porn with feelings, a bit of dialogue that may come across as cajoling (it sort of is) but Frankie and the reader are adults in a mature relationship, they can have some complicated emotions that include horniness, as a treat, more Christmas fluff 

Summary: You may have made it safely out of the freezing water, but Frankie’s still working through some feelings about the whole thing- especially now that the generator is down. Plus, a Christmas surprise!

Author’s Note: This is set within the same universe as Sundress Season,  All Day in the Sun, and Facing the Sunshine, although they can be read individually. It’s set immediately after Weather the Storm so you might want to read that one for context.

This began as me daydreaming about getting snowed in at a rustic cabin with Frankie and @the-ginger-hedge-witch​ was kind enough to encourage me (and assure me it wasn’t too close to her amazing Forest Ranger Frankie series.

Also, a special shout-out to my amazing writer wife @keeper0fthestars for beta���ing this on short notice. Your support means the world to me, mi media naranja. 🍊

Read on Ao3

You open your eyes to a world made new. The loft bedroom you and Frankie had slept in is small, with knotted pine walls, a tiny stone fireplace, and handmade rugs covering a flag floor. The solid four poster you find yourself in is laden with downy vintage quilts, their printed cotton worn soft with age. None of this catches your eye though- not when one full wall is a plate glass window overlooking the winter wonderland beneath. Stony cliffs hung with icicles, frozen springs, and faraway pinewoods fill your vision, all laden with a thick frosting of snow sparkling beneath a wintry sun. 

It’s only when you spring to the window and turn around that you realize you’ve woken up alone.

“Frankie?”

There’s no answer, though he has left a stack of his own folded clothing on a nearby dresser, along with a steaming mug of coffee. It’s a small bit of comfort. While you’d ended the night wrapped in each other’s arms, there had still been a lingering trace of shortness in his replies, a sure sign that something is bothering him. Despite his assurances that he’s just glad you’re alright, you suspect he’s still on edge after your unexpected arrival and subsequent plunge into the icy water of a hidden pond. 

Given the blurry, fear-tinged dreams you’d woken from, he might not be the only one.

You push that feeling aside, warmed by the mug of coffee and Frankie’s flannel shirt. It’s far too large for you, though his sweats are a better fit, and you’re grateful for the thick woolen socks, knowing they’ll keep your feet toasty- and help fill out the space in his extra pair of boots. Your clothes from the night before are steaming gently in front of the small hearth, its carefully smoored embers giving off only the faintest heat and light in the winter dawn. 

Come to think of it, hadn’t the cabin itself been much warmer last night? The picture becomes clearer when you head to the bathroom down the hall and flick the lightswitch. 

Nothing happens.

Remembering that Frankie had mentioned something about a generator, you wonder if its gone down. You spring through a brisk, cold-water morning routine (the water heater must be down, too). It occurs to you that being stranded on a mountaintop after a blizzard with neither electricity nor hot water might not be the safest way or most comfortable way to spend your Christmas, but you can’t find it in yourself to regret your hasty decision to join Frankie in the Millers’ cabin.

Dressed, freshly scrubbed, and wide awake, you bound down the stairs and follow the muffled sound of cursing outside. 

You find Frankie kneeling in the snow, a look of deep concentration on his face, while he wrestles with a massive diesel generator set a few feet away from the cabin. Dusting snow off a nearby log, you sit beside him and offer up the rest of the coffee. 

“I would have made some more but I wasn’t sure how to, with the power down,” you explain. If you’d known he was outside fighting with this rusty behemoth you’d have made more of an effort. 

With a sigh, Frankie sets his tools down with more force than you think strictly necessary, though he accepts the warm mug with a weary smile. “It failed last night.” After taking a few sips he looks at you, his dark eyes alert, assessing. “You warm enough?”

“I’m fine, Frankie,” you reply, a little pointedly. “It helps that I’m practically swimming in your clothes. Lots of trapped warmth.” You spread your arms, showing off your baggy ensemble. It has the desired effect.

He huffs a small laugh before rising to his feet with a groan. You give a sympathetic wince as one of his knees pops audibly but he ignores it, joining you on the log and passing the coffee back to you. “If I can’t get it back up we’re in for a rough couple of days,” he warns. “The roads are too dicey so we’re stuck up here until they’re clear and I don’t know how cold it will get without the heat-”

You know that tone. He’s spiraling, caught up in uncertainties that wear his usual calm thin.

“Hey.” You stop him with a gentle word, tilting his face to meet your gaze. “It’ll be fine. What do we need to do?”

Frankie blows out a breath, calculating. “The cabin is pretty sturdy, and we have plenty of water. Food shouldn’t be a problem, especially since you probably brought enough for an expedition.”

“I like to be prepared!”

“Girl scout,” he teases affectionately.

You scoff. “You’re one to talk, Delta Force.”

“Fair enough.” Wrapping an arm around your shoulders and sounding more like himself, he pulls you in to kiss the top of your head, his lips stretched in a fond, exasperated smile. “I’m mostly just worried about keeping you warm enough.”

“Oh well if that’s all, I have some ideas,” you offer slyly. 

“I’ll bet you do.” His voice is low, rumbling, though purr or growl, you’re not sure which. “Come on then, querida. If we can’t get this going we’re in for a morning of chopping down trees.”

__

As it turns out, you’re not able to get the ancient generator running again and Frankie spends a few frustrated minutes digging through a nearby tool shed before coming up with a rusty saw and an only slightly sharper looking ax.

The two of you spend the rest of the morning cutting down saplings Frankie assures you the Millers won’t miss. It takes a few tries to get the technique right but after a few gentle corrections and bits of advice from him, it starts to go a lot smoother. 

It’s satisfying work. The day is sunny, though cold, and the pine-scented mountain air is bracing. After about an hour, you and Frankie fall into a quiet, satisfying rhythm, your piles of firewood growing higher and higher. You’re just starting to sweat through your second layer when Frankie calls for a break. It turns out he had made that morning’s coffee over a small campfire, and does the same now, pressing a steaming mug of canned stew into your chilly, gloved hands, only sipping his own once confirming that you’ve started in on yours. 

As you’re taking a moment to appreciate the stunning mountain views, an unfamiliar noise filters through the clearing. Wolf song, lilting and haunted, rises plaintively over the snow-capped peaks. Your hair stands on end and you turn to Frankie in astonishment.

“Are there wolves near here?” It’s not fear turning your voice hushed but awe. 

Frankie is already standing, scanning the horizon eagerly for the origin of the calls. “Just one pack. They were reintroduced a couple of years back, some sort of research thing, but we’ve never heard them.”

The howl continues. There’s just the one wolf calling, you think. “He sounds lonely.”

“Probably looking for his mate.” 

“I hope she finds him.” 

Frankie turns to you, an unreadable expression in his dark brown eyes. “I’m sure she will.” 

After a few more minutes, the howling falls silent and you return to work.

–

“That has to be enough for a week, right?” You straighten, stiff from prolonged sawing, digging your fingers into your lower back to ease the tension there. 

Looking over from his own, much larger pile of split logs, Frankie shrugs. “More like a day or two, but we can call it here for the day. Let’s head back to the cabin.”

On your way back, he mentions a few more ideas he’s had to make your stay at the cabin more comfortable. Rigging up a solar charging station for your phones. Piling snow around any chinks in the walls to keep out the searching wind. Catching trout for your meals. 

Looking significantly at all the frozen water, you raise a brow and ask “how exactly?”

Frankie shrugs. “Ice fishing.”

“Ah, of course. How do you know all this survival stuff, anyway?”

“Training,” he says simply.

“Well, it suits you.” And it does. It’s exhilarating, not to mention comforting, getting to see him using his skills “in the field.” All the better for the fact that you’re not truly in an emergency situation. Not that you seem entirely able to convince him of that. 

Noticing the way your breath is coming a little faster, the slight dragging of your feet, Frankie frowns as you make your way back to the cabin. “You should rest when we get back.”

If by “rest,” he means “spend an afternoon in bed together,” you’re all for it.

–

It turns out that’s not exactly what Frankie had in mind. Just as you’re stripping down to panties and one of his undershirts, he stands from his place lighting the fire and heads for the door. 

“What happened to resting?”

He gives you an all-too knowing look. “Cariño, if I get in that bed I don’t think you’ll get much rest.”

“No?” 

“No,” he answers firmly, though you can see he’s tempted. 

“Please, Frankie? I’m so cold.” 

He snorts, seeing this for the melodramatic ploy that is, but gives in. “Fine. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Grinning in triumph, you scoot over. After shedding a few layers, he joins you beneath the covers. Both of you are still more than a little wind-chilled, and it takes a few shivery moments of snuggling to warm up- which is apparently more than Frankie is willing to put up with. 

“You need to stop squirming,” he grits out.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

His teeth close playfully over your bare shoulder, making you yelp. “You know why.” 

To be fair, you do. You can feel the reason stiffening behind you. 

“We could just-”

“You need rest,” Frankie sighs.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little testily after having said it so many times today. After a tense silence you ask “that’s not the only thing, is it?”

Another pause. “No,” Frankie admits, his own voice tense.

“Well what, then?”

“Really? You nearly get yourself killed last night and you’re wondering why I might be a little annoyed still?”

“Oh.” You’re not sure what to say to that. You’ve already apologized and frankly, an icy plunge and your own fear is quite enough punishment thank you very much. Unless…

“Would spanking me make you feel better,” you ask, innocently, while wriggling strategically against him.

“No.” He stills you with a firm hand on your hip. Even with him behind you you can practically see the half irritated, half interested look on Frankie’s face.

“Why not? I thought we were both into that.”

“Not now,” he clarifies, a desperate edge to his voice. “You’d love it and I’m mad enough to enjoy it too much and feel bad about it later.” 

“Ok so no spanking.” You wait a bit then ask brightly “just regular sex then?”

This time Frankie huffs an irritated chuckle but holds firm. “No. You need rest, damn it, so just-“

“Ok but what if you just put it in?”

There’s a loud pause. You know he’s considering it, can practically see him licking his lips. 

“Please?” You’re begging now, sure that if you can get him to agree to that, it won’t be much harder to ask for just a little more. 

“You know what? That does sound like a good idea.” There’s an edge to this voice that makes both your cunt and stomach clench, and you realize something: 

You’ve underestimated Francisco Morales.

A dangerous move for anyone, and you’ve committed the dual sin of this and putting the woman he loves in danger. Your throat bobs. The very reasonable point that you are the woman Frankie loves isn’t much consolation at this particular juncture. 

He’s going to make you regret this.

Even with this realization, you thrill at the brush of his hands at your hips, pushing your waistband down. 

“Already so wet for me,” he murmurs. “Were you planning this all along?”

“Maaaaybe.” Your breathing picks up and you cant your hips toward him.

“So eager,” he chides, one large palm sliding between your thighs to push them apart. He’s taking his time, the bastard, and he only grazes the lips of your aching pussy with his fingertips before pulling back, leaving you whining. 

“Easy,” he soothes. “I’ve got you.” He reaches between you for a moment and then the blunt head of his cock is nudging your entrance. It lays thick and hard against you, the faintest twitch pulsing against your heated pussy. 

“Frankie, please-”

“Please what, cariño?”

Your fist your hands in the flannel sheets, already panting. “Please put it in me,” you whimper.

He does. 

He pushes every thick, pulsing inch of himself into your waiting cunt- and stops. 

You squirm in frustration, your body begging for more. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Consider it punishment for last night.” 

Fuck, you really had underestimated him. 

“You’re really still mad?”

“Yes.” 

God damn it. He’s stretching you out so perfectly, his fat cock seated right where you need it, but if he doesn’t start moving you think you might actually scream. 

You try everything you can think of- grinding against him, pleading, clenching yourself around him tight enough to hear him hiss, but he remains implacable. Finally, there’s only one thing left to try.

“I’m sorry, ok?”

“What are you sorry for?”

You sigh, resigned. “Scaring you.”

“And?”

“And being possibly slightly hasty.”

He starts to withdraw, threatening to leave you empty and more desperate than ever.

“Ok! Ok, reckless. It was dangerous and I won’t do it again.”

“Damn right you won’t.” Frankie shoves himself back inside you with one deep thrust, making your eyes roll back in relief. 

He fucks you for real now, punctuating his thrusts with more chiding while you babble encouragement. 

“Fuck that feels so good.”

“Oh shit, right there, yes!”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Even with his hands clutching your hips hard enough to bruise, you can tell he isn’t getting the leverage either of you need. You brace one hand against the wall as he fucks into you, pushing yourself back to meet him, but it’s not enough.

Frankie growls impatiently and hauls you to your knees, leaving you scrabbling for purchase amongst the sliding pillows. He pins you in place, one broad palm at the back of your neck, the brutal snap of his hips only gaining speed with this new leverage. You submit gratefully, hungrily, his dominance freeing you to give yourself over entirely to his sweet, savage thrusts. 

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he snarls, deep and fierce and wild.

You don’t reply, not in words. Knowing there’s no one for miles you howl for him, keening for your mate as surely as the wolf on the mountain. Bent over like this, his thick cock feels like it’s splitting you in two, its blunt head pounding relentlessly at that spot deep inside that makes you wail.

You want more.

He knows.

“Greedy thing,” Frankie growls low in your ear. He’s leaning his weight fully on you by now, draping himself over your back, the two of you moving slickly together. Somehow, he works a hand between your bodies and you moan when his thick, searching fingertips slip and glide over your aching cunt. “Is this what you needed? My cock isn’t enough for you?” 

Wordless still, you shake your head, legs trembling and hips rutting desperately towards him while his fingers circle your swollen clit. Drool trails down your chin but you’re too caught up to either notice or care. Frankie is pushing you to new heights, your body writhing and squirming beneath his shifting, powerful frame, the muscles in his back bunching as he fucks you into the mattress. It’s primal, almost painful, but you’re beyond conscious thought, responding purely by instinct. 

“You’re close,” he pants, teeth closing over the delicate shell of your ear. “Do it, then. Come on this cock. Make a pretty mess for me and come right fucking now so I can fill you up.” 

That edge of dominance in his voice is all you need. In a sudden, tightening rush, your body obeys. The cry that tears from your throat is that of a wild thing as the walls of your cunt clamp down hard enough to shove Frankie out if he weren’t laying on top of you and you’re dimly aware of his own answering cry as, with a rippling, infinite sensation, you come. And come, and come. It feels endless, a never ending series of waves that ebb and flow while he fills you, honeyed brine and his own salty seed slicking down your thighs. 

On shaking legs, Frankie lays you gently on your side, using his own shirt to wipe you down, drying the worst of the damp ruin of the sheets below you. His lips press behind your ear and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his heaving chest once more. 

“Sleep,” he murmurs, running a soothing hand over your hair while you drift on a sea of pleasure, only half hearing him. “Get some rest, mi corazon.” 

—

You’re gazing out over the snowy mountains, your fingers splayed over a frosted windowpane. The glass is chill, unyielding- but brittle. You stare down at your dream-hand as, unavoidable as fate, it presses against the window until it creaks, the glass straining in its frame.

No, no-

Cobwebs mar the crackling surface, an ominous sound snapping beneath your palm. There’s an awful, drawn out beat and then-

Crack.

You break the water’s surface, flailing, pondweeds wrapped around your ankle to drag you down, down down-

No, sheets. Those are sheets. You’re back in the Millers’ cabin, safe in a nest of not just flannel sheets and handmade quilts but what you recognize by their slippery whisking as your and Frankie’s sleeping bags. He must have piled them on top of you to ward off any further chill. 

Maybe he was right and the fall through the ice rattled you more than you’d thought. 

You take a ragged breath, then another. You’re no stranger to nightmares, yours or his, and you close your eyes, soothing the panic galloping through your pounding chest. 

Calmer now, you open your eyes to take in your surroundings once more. The room is dark and still, though you can make out the dimly glowing snow, lit only by starlight, blanketing the nearby mountains. Snowflakes kiss and tap softly against the window glass, and seeing it whole calms the remnant of your lingering fear. 

A howl pierces the cold, glittering night and your heart skips a bit, waiting, hoping. Another song rises over the peaks, harmony and home, an assurance that the wolves have found each other at last. 

With a smile, you swing your feet over the edge of the borrowed bed and pad through the darkness to find your own mate.

—

Frankie’s absence when you woke pulls at you a little. Was he still angry with you? Had you dreamt his kisses, the words he’d murmured sweetly in your ear?

You don’t have long to wonder. As soon as you push up on the iron latch to open the rustic bedroom door, golden light welcomes you. It spills over the loft, gilding the birch railing and rag rugs. You step into the gold-limned dark, drawn on by the scent of cinnamon and the ringing notes of your favorite carol.

Worn pine stairs creak beneath even your quiet footsteps, giving your position away to a grinning Frankie. He’s kneeling in front of a Christmas tree, neatly placing a final carefully wrapped package beneath its scented boughs. 

“Hey, baby.”

His voice is soft and your tentative expression breaks into a sunshine smile. “Frankie, how-“

You gape at the cabin. It’s been transformed. Coffee filter snowflakes dance over window panes, lit from beneath by punched tin lanterns. Wait, no, those are soup cans, you realize with a delighted laugh. Frankie must have spent ages painstakingly punching out holes to create the swirling patterns gleaming like stars. The small Christmas tree propped in one corner is even decorated with a mix of what look like old-fashioned popcorn garland and the ornaments you’d brought from home, and both of your stockings, now laden with small gifts and lumpy parcels, hang from the mantlepiece.

This must have taken him hours.

“How long was I out,” you quip.

He chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist from behind. “Not long. I did a few things this morning.”

You reach up to kiss his cheek before settling into his hold, touched and more than a little relieved. “So you’re not still mad at me?”

“I was never-“ 

You cut him off with one raised brow.

“Fine. I was madder than I’ve ever been at you but… you know that was only the half of it, right?”

“Yeah,” you concede. What you don’t say out loud (though you’ll confess it later) is that you’d have been furious with him for pulling the same stunt. Instead, you lean back against him, savoring the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms, and the soft press of his lips against your hair. It’s easier, after that, to put the incident on the ice behind you and focus on the matter at hand.

Without stepping out of his hold, you crane your neck and grin. “Did I see stockings?”

—

By the time you’re nearly finished going through the stockings, any tension is long forgotten. Frankie had loved the hiking journal you’d gotten him (“Since you’re journaling more”), and you’re already wearing the silky scarf he’d gotten for you (“It matches your eyes, cariño”). There had been the usual assortment of more practical items- toothbrushes and chapstick, scented lotion and hand warmers - along with a few other gag gifts, favorite candies, and inside jokes, but they’re almost finished now. 

Laying the gloves aside, you reach into your stocking for the last item, expecting your fingers to meet the smooth, round skin of an orange. Instead, you draw out a foil-wrapped half of a chocolate orange. You raise your eyebrow at this. “Did you get hungry?”

He chuckles and pulls out the other half from his own stocking, holding it to yours to make a complete whole. “No, baby. Eres mi media naranja.” When you look at him, still puzzled, he explains “it means you’re my other half.” 

The other gifts can wait, you think, as you lean in to kiss him, languid and sweet.

–

Frankie has one more surprise for you.

When you’ve unwrapped what looks to be the final gift, he reaches into his pocket, drawing out a small, silver-wrapped box. “I have one more present for you, baby.” 

You reach out with trembling fingers. It’s light, and small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Frankie takes a deep breath.

“I only got the call yesterday. That house we put an offer in on- that farmhouse with the yard you liked? The real estate agent got in touch yesterday.”

Your breath catches. A wild hope springs up in your chest but you try to rein it in. “Yeah, the owners said they had a better offer?”

“It fell through,” Frankie grins. “Open the box.”

Your fingers tear through the paper, lift the lid and reveal a shining silver key. You lift your gaze to Frankie, tears sparkling in your lashes, and all you manage is a strangled “really?”

“Really, baby.” His own eyes are watering as you launch yourself into his arms. “That key is just symbolic- we can sign the papers when we get home. If you still want to, that is.”

“Of course I want to,” you breath, face buried in his shoulder. “Oh god, Frankie I can’t believe it.” It doesn’t feel real yet, the idea too perfect to be true. “Our own house…”

The other presents lay temporarily forgotten as the two of you talk through all the projects you have in mind for your new home, the little personal touches you’ll make to make it your own. At one point you even pull out a seed catalog from one of the bags Frankie had retrieved from your car, already planning what to grow in your new shared garden. You’ve always wanted to try growing blackberries…

The wind and the wolves howl outside and a winter moon rises, spilling silver light over the snow while the two of you snuggle close, dreaming of your shared future.

[ghostlypeachdonut]

Little Bucky or Little y/n PT.1

part 2 here,                        part 3 here,                       taglist

Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Polish!Reader PT.1 

Warning : pregnancy, Christian family, bad english general fluff

Summary: You get pregnant and your boyfriend dies you fall into depression, but not long afterwards you yourself die in an unfortunate accident together with your friend. However, you suddenly wake up in a hospital in the 21st century.

Note from the author: Let me know what you think about this. English is not my first langue so be nice       Tag list open.

Word count: 710

THIS IS NOT MY GIF

Ten minutes seems like a short time, but for you it seemed like hours. You stood over the sink with the pregnancy test in your trembling hand. You were afraid of pregnancy, not just because you were not married, but because you were deliberately hurting your child. There was no telling how much longer this drawn-out war was going to last, but it certainly wasn't going to go away anytime soon, so you didn't want the baby to be born with the possibility of being shot at a wall if you had to return to your home country, because you weren't from America, you were actually a Polish immigrant who moved with her family secretly to Brooklyn when she was 14. But that was not the only reason, because of your genes and your boyfriend's genes most newborns is girls, and this world is not made for women. You know very well how difficult it would be for your daughter in life, even more so when her parents are from two different countries and not married.

Then you noticed that a plus appeared on a piece of paper (pregnancy test), which meant the worst. You didn't even know if your boyfriend wanted to have baby, you had never talked about it. But it wasn't his reaction that you feared the most, it was your parents who put a lot of pressure on you. They were very religious, they weren't proud that you were cohabiting with a men you still weren't married to. And a pregnancy would probably give them a heart attack.

At this point tears were coming to your eyes so you decided to call the other person closest to you, Steve. You were the same age, so you went to the same class when you arrived at school. But you were not taught English in Poland, so your English was minimal, cut as much as possible from books, which you sometimes managed to steal for lack of money. Because of your lack of language skills, your peers didn't want to get to know you and saw you as a "Little Polack (THIS IS LIKE N-WORD BUT FOR POLISH PPL) who had a tendency to sleep around." However, Steve gave you a chance, he even bought a Polish-English translator, which he taught himself first and then helped you with your English. It was only after a year of knowing each other that Steve introduced you to his best friend Bucky, a year older than the two of us, and introduced us to each other on a trip to the river.

That's why you decided to call him. You dialed the number and put the receiver to your ear. - Steve? - you pulled your nose in -y/n what's going on? Are you crying? - Steve could you come to me? - y/n everything for you.

As soon as you saw Steve outside the door you burst into his arms all weepy. Steve gave you a hug and closed the door, then followed you into the living room. -Y/n why are you crying.-he pulled out a handkerchief -S-steve- you pull your nose* -I'm pregnant. -Wait wha-.- Steve stopped in handing you a handkerchief. You took the handkerchief and peered out*. - Does Buck know? -N- No, and I'm afraid of his reaction. - your words are interrupted every now and then by snorting your nose. -Y/n I think you'll have to tell him. -What if he doesn't want to have a ch-c-that word couldn't pass your lips. - What if he leaves me? Steve hugged you and started stroking your forehead. - Nonsense. I don't think that's his style, I'm sure he'd love to have a little buck or a little y/n running around his house. -You think? -

-Yeah. I'm convinced.

It wasn't long after you fell asleep with Steve, finally Bucky came back. It was already late. Bucky decided to carry you to your shared bedroom. He picked you up and carried you off bridal style. When he returned to the living room wanting to go to the kitchen he noticed that he had woken Steve. - Oh, I'm sorry if I woke you up, I wanted to bring y/n. -So, sorry I fell asleep on your couch. And if it's not a problem can I stay here for this night because I don't have much of a way to get home. - No problem, actually what happened to y/n? I saw that y/n was all blurry like she was crying. -Oh, yes y/n is having a weaker moment right now. Be there for her now. -Sure well, good night big guy (This is Stevie after the serum so you know)

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

Cold Coffee

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author's note: I had a hard time figuring out what exactly you wanted me to write about. I'm pretty sure I changed the ask a lot because I didn't understand it. Sorry!

~

You pursed your lips with hands on your hips and glared at the man in front of you. Or behind you; at least that's where he was before you had turned to him.

"Do you mind?" You asked coldly. "I can practically feel you breathing down on my ear. There's plenty of space, man, you don't need to be cooped up behind me."

The young man behind you looked all but surprised at your words. He glanced at you with doe green eyes that were hidden beneath a fringe of dark hair he had been running his hand through for the last 2 minutes.

You pretended not to recognize him and instead chose this moment to talk to him for the very first time. 

Or warn him, so to speak.

You took note of his clothes while at it. They were wrinkled in all the wrong places, almost as if he didn't have time to iron them this morning. 

Like he was late for something.

You shook your head and turned back around, instinctively taking a step away from him. The coffee shop was cloistered, so many tables and so little room, but that was part of its charm. You lacked clothing and weren't dressed for the occasion that was winter, so you stood there in the line, hoping to store enough of the shop's warmth before you run out and make a dash for your boyfriend's car.

"Y/N have you gone mad?" A sweet voice interjected, breaking apart your dazed thoughts with its bubbly tone. Your face reddened from the attention and warmth that had merged to torture you. "It's 17 °F outside, and you're walking around all dolled up like it's spring!"

You giggled and proceeded to order two coffees like you had first planned to do. 

Your favorite bartender raised both eyebrows at you, urging you to speak while both of you wait for your coffee. "First of all, I'm not dolled up."

He shook his head and smirked, ready to make your words die right on your tongue. "Girl… That white t-shirt, which by the way, I know it's not yours, screams I had it so good last night that I didn't even bother with my clothes because I know I look better without them. And that's hot by the way."

The wink he gave you was the cherry on top, and you stifled your laughter with the back of your cold palm in embarrassment.

"What the hell is going on?" A gruff voice spoke up. "Can we order or are you too busy gossiping with her?"

The voices that were background music in the cozy shop died within an instant. 

Your friend narrowed his eyes. "Sir, in case you failed to notice, there are two of us working at the bar and you, along with Miss Y/N are the only one waiting in line."

You cringed and looked at displayed cupcakes beneath you in hopes of the tension washing over you and disappearing right after. You didn't really want any feelings of someone's anger to linger on your mind at only 7 in the morning.

"Brittany could you take this man's order for me? I'm busy with Y/N's."

A petite blonde stepped out of the shadows she wasn't even in and looked at the grumpy man with a dashing smile.    

"I better go," you whispered after a moment and reached for the two coffees, laying out the exact amount of money on the counter. "Before things get crazy."

The bartender gave you an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry about him, I don't even know who he is. He just started stopping by. Anyway, say hi to Jay for me."

For a moment you debated on whether you should tell Jay about this man. Him coincidentally showing up at exact places where you were in the last few weeks left a bitter taste in your mouth. But then again, you might be making this all up to yourself.

You are dating a senior detective after all. The inner voice in your head was starting to get too loud.

"Will do," You said quietly, turning around on your heels and slipping out of the coffee shop and into the cold Chicago air.

Goosebumps immediately took residence on your skin because the sleeves of white t-shirt you had only covered the upper parts of your arms.

The car was hard to spot amongst the early crowd. The body of people that formed around you was making it more difficult to find Jay. Sighing, you clenched your teeth and moved forward until a hand grasped your shoulder, and you turned around.

"You…" You gasped in surprise because you had no thought invade your mind that the young man might have followed you out. 

"It's cold out here," He offers, the grin on his face never subsided. "Let's get you somewhere warm."

You shook your head, baffled beyond belief. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He stood in front of you, his face forming into an angry scowl for the first time. The grin vanished and his whole demeanor changed – almost as if you had just flipped the switch that held his façade together. His rough hand grabbed your free wrist, and you yelped in surprise, holding the bag that contained your coffee securely. 

"Let me go!" You fought, doing your best to ignore the ominous look in his eyes.

This is going to leave bruises for sure, you thought while gazing at your captured wrist. Maybe if you screamed, he would get off you, but you didn't want to cause a commotion. Plus, you wanted him there for when Jay came back to fetch you.

Fear settled in your chest, but it disappeared as quick as it came when Jay's voice hung in the air. 

His words were blurry to your ears. Amid the moment, you only got a one good look at your boyfriend’s face before he placed himself in front of the young man, shielding you from harm's way.

Your wrist was free, but bruised and sore.

"What the hell man! Get off me!" The green-eyed man exclaimed, pushing at Jay with his hands. You hadn’t even realized what Jay was doing.

"Oh, yeah?" Jay mused; his face grew colder within a second of saying that. "What'd you do to her?"

Jay turned around to you at that moment, his blue eyes skimming you over for any injuries. His eyes widened at your wrist.

"Nothing, man. I-I didn't even touch that bitch!" 

The simple word aggravated the detective and Jay lunged at him; although not in a matter that would get his hands beaten up.

Your boyfriend of 2 years moved his jacket and showed your attacker his badge, and before the man could do anything, he had his hands twisted behind his back. "What are you doing?!"

"Arresting you for assault," Jay informed before lowering his voice. "But if I had it my way; I'd beat you to a pulp for what you did to my girlfriend. Now, sit the hell down."

Trembling with apologies, the man sat on the pavement, hands cuffed, and pride crushed. 

You watched the scene in front of you with a red face. Not because of the crowd that surrounded you as you stood by the side, but because of the cold Chicago air.

This was supposed to be a quick trip.

Grab and go.

"You okay?" Jay asked after hanging up the phone, presumably having just finished calling a fellow officer to arrest this man for real.

"Y-yeah," You whispered. "Just cold…"

You allowed Jay to wrap his warm jacket around you and inhaled his cologne after the warmth overtook. 

"I shouldn't have let you alone."

You rolled your eyes at the protectiveness and leaned into him, head falling on his shoulder as he led you to the car. "I called Sergeant Platt. She sent someone to pick him up. They’re two minutes out."

You nodded, "Good because I'm freaked out."

"Do you know him?" Jay asked with furrowed brows.

"I never thought much of it," You sighed. "He kept showing up at work, and now at the coffee shop, but I always thought he was new at work and all… I mean, all of us get coffee here."

Jay listened carefully. "This is serious."

"I know," You agreed. "Our coffee got cold. It can't get worse than that."

Jay outright laughed at your words.

Tags: @fofisstilinski​ @short-potato​ @miranda0102​  @httphiddlestan​ @caromichaela​ @xx-missunicorn-xx​ @jemmakates​ @lorenakaspersen​ @scarletsoldierrr​​ @theravenclawmarauder​ @httphiddlestan​ @tclaerh​ @chefdoeuvre​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (pinned post on my blog or check navigation)!

MASTERLIST

[fanfic-corner]

Under 10,000 Words

16/12/20 - I can never figure out what my favourite length of fic is, but I think it depends on my mood. Sometimes I want a huge, 200,000 word journey, and sometimes I just want a quick drabble. Anyway, here are some fics which are all between 2,000 and 10,000 words, organised by the word count.

Sleep Deprivation by Honey_Honey on AO3. (2,313 words).

Tags: Cute, First Kiss.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: The one where killing monsters leaves Dean without a week of sleep, and Cas has to deal with the consequences.

Notes: This was so fluffy and cute and I can totally imagine Dean overthinking everything while Sam just finds the whole situation hilarious.

That One Time Sam Winchester Googled Something Weird and It Had Pretty Awesome Results by quitepossiblyjanuary on AO3. (2,587 words).

Tags: Romantic Fluff, First Kiss, Stars, Humor, Courtship, Short & Sweet.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: In which Sam Googles something and his curiosity doesn’t kill the cat. Or him. Or anyone. It’s a pretty awesome feeling.

Notes: This was so adorable! Gabe was so sweet, and his mind reading skills made me laugh.

What Can’t Be Seen by destieldrabblesdaily on AO3. (2,639 words).

Tags: Soulmate AU, author!Cas, Strangers to Lovers, First Kiss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Written for this prompt: Soulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

Notes: This was really cute and such a sweet and funny idea.

The Tea is Decaf by mnwood on AO3. (3,673 words).

Tags: POV Castiel, Fluff, Sign Language, Castiel in the Bunker, Canon Compliant, Sharing Clothes, Asexual Castiel, Gentle Dean, Non-Explicit Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: “Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language"And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice”.

Notes: This has to be one of my favourite fics of all time, even though the first time I read it I hadn’t even met Eileen yet! I’m still so pissed off that she wasn’t in the finale (unless we’re counting Blurry Wife?).

surely heaven wants for you by cenotaphy on AO3. (3,782 words). 

Tags: Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Heaven, Coda, Post-Finale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean, Outdoor Sex.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Cas doesn't come to him. Dean can't really argue with that, given the circumstances. In all the history of balls in courts, he thinks there might never have been a ball as thoroughly in a court as this one is in his. He drives for what feels like a long time but might just be a single sunny afternoon, or maybe years (time's funny here, Bobby had said), just enjoying the music, the shifting landscape outside his window, the hum and creak of the engine. Finally the forest opens up and the road narrows down in a way that he's fairly certain wouldn't typically happen on any kind of earthly interstate, and he glides the car to a halt at the edge of a lake.

Notes: This was so beautiful and such a interesting exploration of Dean’s feelings!

a quick salt and burn by xylodemon on AO3. (4,609 words).

Tags: Episode Related, Cemeteries, Case Fic.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: "Fuck," Dean mutters, wincing as pain throbs in his shoulder and neck. After the ghost chucked him into the hedge, he hit the ground like ton of bricks and clipped an exposed tree root so old it was practically petrified. "So much for a quick salt and burn."

Notes: This is adorable and hilarious, so a double win.

Funny Bone by PallasPerilous on AO3. (4,933 words).

Tags: Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Skeletons, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Alternate Universe - No Angels, Canon Divergence, Mild Gore.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland. It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

Notes: This has to have been one of the funniest fics I have ever read, but oh boy did I feel bad for poor Cas.

Grace by july_19th_club on AO3. (5,164 words).

Tags: Fix-It, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Resurrection, Reciprocated Confession.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: A man dies. What happens next will shock you. [script]

Notes: This was written beautifully, and now I really want to see this filmed! So much better than the ending we got.

(un)conventional by imogenbynight on AO3. (6,100 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, mechanic!Dean, Writer!Castiel, Conventions, Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Spec Lit Con--Speckly Con, to it’s regular attendees--is an annual weekend-long event held in Chicago, dedicated to science fiction, fantasy and otherwise speculative literature. This year Dean's favorite author, C.J. Novak, is appearing as a panelist. Naturally, he shells out the cash for an all access pass.

Notes: This was so adorable that I nearly screamed in the corridor outside my computer science lesson. Plus, the writing was absolutely gorgeous! I miss conventions :(

La Vie A Plus by K_K_TiBal on AO3. (6,260 words)

Tags: Punk Castiel, Asexual Castiel, College/Uni AU, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, College Student Dean, College Student Castiel, Pining, First Kiss, Misunderstandings, Art Student Castiel, Love Confessions, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Tattooed Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel. Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested. But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable. Even if you think you know where you’re going with it.

Notes: The angst is strong in this one! Again, I feel like many aces have had this conversation or that fear that people (allos, especially) may not want to be with them.

Event Horizon by Winglesss on AO3. (6,442 words).

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel, Strangers.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Notes: I don’t know if that kind of suicide prevention scheme exists, but this fic is very sweet.

I Think That’s Mine by palominopup on AO3. (6,804 words).

Tags: Fluff, AU, Reporter!Dean, Writer!Cas.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: A mix up at the Atlanta Airport places Dean Winchester's laptop in someone else's possession. A series of calls and texts bring two men together.

Notes: This was so cute, Cas was so sweet, and Dean was an icon.

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime on AO3. (7,865 words).

Tags: Fix-It, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, Explicit Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Declarations of Love, Canon Compliant, Minor Injuries.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says—

“Uh. No.”

It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on. He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

Notes: What a great idea, and written so well! I always thought the show could have done so much more with djinns, but never mind.

In the House of the Rising Bun by imissmaeberry on AO3. (9,046 words).

Tags: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Baker Dean, Barista Sam, College Campus, Poet Castiel, Mutual Pining, Daddy Issues, Background Sam/Jess, Past Balthazar/Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester only has three rules concerning the cafe he and his brother Sam own, “House of the Rising Bun”.

1. Any and all opportunities to make a pun will be taken. 2. Free regular coffee with your student ID (If you want some of that fancy nonsense you gotta pay, sorry kids). 3. Anyone and everyone is always welcome.

Between Dean running the shop full-time and Sam helping out whenever he isn’t in class, there really isn’t a whole lot of time for romance for either of them. But that all changes when they gain a new regular - some writer from London - who may or may not have the bluest eyes Dean’s ever seen.

Notes: First of all, the puns were amazing and I am willing to fight people on that. Secondly, that was so sweet and funny I am afraid I might have to disappear under mysterious circumstances and open my own cafe…

I hope you enjoy these! I haven’t read any new fics for this list and even then there were way too many to put on one list, so expect a sequel at some point in the future!

[sheerfreesia007]

Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 35)

Title: Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 35)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 1,747

Warnings: Fluff, Arguing, Cursing

Tags: @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @two-unbeatable-beaters​, @randomness501​, @sevvysaurus​, @paryl​, @fioccodineveautunnale​

Author Notes: Tequila is a BRO in this one. I love exploring their relationship as well as Whiskey’s and the reader’s. There’s not much Whiskey in this but next part will change that. I wanted to show Ginger’s deviousness and how far the petty can go. Thank you for reading and enjoying!

Gif Credit: @a-gent-galahad​

           You smiled sleepily at your phone as Jack came onto the screen as you connected in a video chat. He was laying in his bed in his apartment in New York and you were still at the lab finishing up on a project that Ginger had assigned to you at the start of this week. Music was playing softly from the radio at your work table and you swayed softly to the beat and Jack laughed softly.

           “You look tired. Are you working in the lab again tonight?” He questioned affectionately and you smiled nodding your head towards your phone.

           “I am. But soon my schedule should clear up. I’ve got this last project to finish for Ginger and then I just have one or two mission reports to fix.” You explained as swayed on your stool. “I can’t wait to have a little more breathing room. Ginger’s been assigning me more and more projects lately.” You divulged to him.

           “Is she still giving you a hard time?” Jack asked with a concerned furrow to his brow.

           “No not really. She’s just super distant and standoffish. Which is fine I’d rather deal with that then her being a jerk.” You confessed shrugging your shoulders. “She’s easier to deal with like this.”

           “Okay, if she starts giving you a hard time though let me know. She shouldn’t be putting more stress on you.” Jack said worried. You nodded your head at him and then grinned widely as Kama Sutra started playing on your radio. You stood up and began dancing around your table and Jack laughed loudly. “I love you, you oddball.”

           “I love you too cowboy. But I gotta get back to work if I wanna finish this before it gets super late.” You said blowing him a kiss. “I’ll send you a text when I get home. Night Jack.”

           “Night darlin’. Get some rest.” He responded before hanging up with you. Turning back to your work table you picked up your soldering tool and began working again.

             “Hey Curaçao, sweetheart. You fell asleep again.” Came a soft voice that made you jolt up from your slumped position against your work table. Blinking your eyes quickly you tried to clear away your blurry vision. Turning you saw another female lab tech standing next to your work table watching you worriedly.

           “Sorry. It was another long night.” You explained softly as you rubbed at your eyes. Just then the doors to the lab opened with a loud whoosh and Ginger walked in with a bright smile on her face. Her eyes instantly focused on you and her smile turned devious.

           “Oh good you’re here. I need to talk to you about another project I’m going to assign to you.” She said smugly as she sneered at you. Your face must’ve pulled into an exasperated expression because Ginger smirked widely at you. Unbeknownst to her Tequila walked into the lab behind her and leaned against the wall watching silently.

           “I can’t Ginger. I haven’t been to bed yet I fell asleep here again. Plus I’ve got a mission coming up in a few weeks. I’ve gotta prepare for that.” You said as you turned back to your work table starting to clean up your work so that you could leave and catch a few hours of sleep.

           “Oh you don’t have to worry about the mission coming up Champ reassigned it to me so you can stay and work in the lab.” Ginger said smugly as she grinned wickedly at you. You turned to her with a furrowed brow and shook your head.

           “First time I’m hearing about it. Besides I’m going to move away from the lab work for a while and focus more on field work. I’ve been working nonstop for the lab for the past month. I’m exhausted.” You said firmly as you crossed your arms over your chest.

           “No you’re going to stay working in the lab.” Ginger sneered out at you as she moved around the lab. “I’m going to be out in the field soon and I need a suitable replacement while I’m gone.”

           “I’m a field agent now Ginger that takes precedence over lab work. Besides I’m not replacement you need to find someone else.” You explained to her shaking your head wearily. You were so exhausted and this argument was only making you more tired.

           “I said you’re my replacement! You will be working in the lab until I see fit understand!?” Ginger shouted suddenly and you, Tequila and the lab tech all stared at her with wide shocked eyes. Your eyes narrowed dangerously suddenly and you stepped up close to her in a threatening manner.

           “You’re not my superior so you can’t force into lab work.” You hissed at her angrily.

           “I will bury you in lab projects so that you don’t see any field work for months.” Ginger snapped angrily at you and your lips pulled up into a sneer at her.

           “Enough!” snapped Tequila from behind Ginger and you watched as she whirled around to stare at him in surprise.

           “Tequila!” she gasped softly and moved closer to him.

           “Save it Ginger I’ve heard enough and Champ is going to want to know that you’ve been sabotaging Cur and keeping her in the lab so that you can take over her missions.” Tequila said darkly as he pulled away from the wall and stalked over to her.

           “No Tequila that’s not what’s going on.” Ginger tried to reason with him and save face.

           “You just admitted to it Ginger so save it. Besides it’s on the cameras I’m sure Champ will be interested to view it.” Tequila said in a disappointed tone. “Ya know I thought you were over all this petty bullshit but obviously not.”

           “Tequila wait.” Ginger began but Tequila shook his head as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

           “Hey Hennessey can you do me a favor and burn the video footage in the main labs from thirty minutes ago to now onto a flash drive? I need it to show Champ.” Tequila said easily into his phone and you tiredly remembered that Hennessey was head of surveillance in HQ. “Thanks Hen I owe you one.”

           “Tequila that isn’t really necessary.” Ginger tried to reason with him once again.

           “C’mon Cur let’s get you to bed sweetheart you look dog tired.” Tequila said warmly to you as he held his arm out for you. You nodded towards him and smiled as you moved to his side and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Tequila led you out of the lab and you snuggled tiredly into his side. You hoped this would curb Ginger’s desire to see you suffer but you doubted it. As you walked back with Tequila to surveillance so he could pick up the flash drive you wondered back to what had changed between you and Ginger. You zoned out as Tequila talked to Hennessey still trying to remember what had changed between the two of you.

           It hit you like a ton of bricks, Jack. It was back when Jack voted no on Ginger again that everything seemed to change between the two of you. You had told Jack that you didn’t agree with his vote and then fought with Ginger when you heard her bad mouthing Jack because of his vote. It saddens you that it’s come to this but you wouldn’t change anything if you had the chance.

           It’s not long before Tequila is done with Hennessey and is leading you back up to his office so that he can get settled there for a small nap before he goes to talk to Champ about Ginger was doing. As you’re laying down on the couch in his office Tequila is pulling a light blanket over you and tucking you in. You smile warmly up at him and sigh.

           “Thanks Tequila.” You say around a wide yawn and Tequila chuckles softly at you.

           “For what Cur?” he asks softly as your eyes drift shut.

           “For everything.” You say sleepily and you quickly fall asleep. Just as Tequila is moving to leave his office your phone begins to ring for a video call and he rushes over to answer it quickly. He sees that it’s Whiskey who’s calling you and quickly swipes the answer button before moving slightly away from you so as not to disturb you.

           “Hey Whiskey.” Tequila says softly as he looks at Whiskey’s face on your phone screen.

           “Tequila, what are you doing answering Curaçao’s phone?” Whiskey asks confused and Tequila flips the camera so that it show you sleeping on his couch.

           “She fell asleep in the lab again. Never made it home. Then Ginger started a fight with her because she tried assigning more lab projects to Cur. Ginger even admitted to burying Cur in lab projects so that she wouldn’t be able to go out into the field so that Ginger could take on her missions.” Tequila explained easily as he watched you sleeping from behind your phone.

           “I told her she was taking on too much. And I can’t believe that Ginger admitted that.” Whiskey says in a downtrodden voice and Tequila nods his head.

           “I know but you know how Cur is. She gives her hundred percent in everything she does. But don’t worry I got it all on video footage and I was just going to bring it to his attention when you called.” Tequila explained as he switched the camera view back to him.

           “Ok keep me posted please. And just do me a favor and make sure she gets some sleep? I know the fighting and arguing is probably going to make her anxiety sky rocket.” Whiskey requested and Tequila nodded smiling at how well Whiskey knew you.

           “Of course. I’ll keep you posted. I gotta go catch Champ now.” Tequila said nodding before hanging up the video call. He set your phone down on the end table next to the couch and smiled softly down at your sleeping form. Just then you let out a soft snore and Tequila grinned wickedly as he pulled out his phone. Pulling up the camera he quickly recorded you snoring in your sleep for a few minutes before stopping it and moving to the door. Chuckling softly to himself he shut the door quietly, knowing that the footage of you snoring would come in handy later on down the line.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Devil You Know: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,304

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

The air is thick with tension, and no one has the nerve to say anything about anything. If the angels and other hunters know what you did, then surely Crowley must know. Plus, if he has been listening to what’s been going on in this car, then he knows about all the arguments you and Dean have when Sam isn’t around.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Crowley finally speaks up.

“Talk about what?” Dean gruffs.

“The baby.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, Crowley’s right. We should talk about it,” you say and turn to face Crowley who is sitting in the back. “You see, I want to have a mature conversation with him about why I did what I did and why I kept it from him. He’s being a baby about it and whines whenever I bring it up like I don’t have any feelings.”

“No, Crowley, tell her if she had any feelings about it, then maybe she should have come to me. We should have made this decision together. Instead, she went behind my back and took away my child without letting me know I even had one!”

“We discussed this already Dean!” you shout and turn to Dean to face him head on. “Sure, I was wrong to do it behind your back, but we literally had this conversation weeks before I got pregnant! What, your decision changed in a blink of an eye?”

“I guess we’ll never know, now won’t we?” Dean shouts back.

“You’re both acting like children!” Crowley yells louder than you two, which gets you to shut up. “Maybe I should have brought Sam along. Look, can we focus on what’s in front of us?”

“Whatever,” you scoff and turn to the office building in front of you where the demon Brady was.

You look through your binoculars and see people in the lobby just talking to one another.

“Demons?” Dean ask.

“No, human shields,” you answer.

“Demons are on the twelfth floor. How did you know that?” Crowley asks you.

“I can see a black ring around their bodies if they are demons. A white one if they are angels.”

“Do you see one around me?”

“I’m surprised I can see what your vessel looks like at all. You’re practically covered with the stuff. Way to blend in,” you scoff.

“Regardless, we’ll have to find a way in through the back.”

“You Winchesters make everything so complicated,” Crowley groans and disappears from the car.

“Where did he go?” you ask Dean.

“Shit,” he mutters and looks through the binoculars.

You take one look to see the demon behind the security guard at the front desk. He waves and then slits his throat just like that.

“Shit!” you yell and scramble to get out of the car.

Dean follows you to the front of the building, and you tap on the glass door to let him know you’re here and he needs to unlock the door.

“It’s open!” he yells. You and Dean run inside to see him wiping the blade on the security guard’s jacket. You and Dean look at him like he just murdered innocent people, and he only shrugs. “What?”

“You fucking killed them?” you yell.

“We're on a tight schedule. Come on,” he taps your shoulder lightly and heads over to the elevator.

You and Dean get on, and Crowley reaches inside to press the button for the twelfth floor. He steps away from the doors with a smile.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“You're not coming?” you ask as you stop the doors from closing.

“Oh, no. It's not safe up there. There's demons.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“Look, just do what I told you, a-and try to be convincing. It'll work like a charm. Trust me,” he encourages and pushes you back into the elevator.

The doors close, and you’re trapped inside the metal box for twelve floors with Dean. The silence is intense, and it feels like hours until the doors open again. Brady is in the main office, but in order to get to him, you have to get past his demons.

They charge at you with hatred in their eyes, but you’re ready to take them on. Dean leaves your side to take care of two while the other two focus on you. There is one on either side of you, and they start charging at you as if they can take you down by doing so. Your right hand reaches out to the demon on your right, and blue magic shoots out of your hand to swirl around his neck. You do the same to the demon on your left, and now both are under your control.

They fight for breath, and you waste no time defeating them while you can. They follow your movements since your magic links them to you, so you move both arms in front of you which causes the demons to head slam into each other. You take a couple of steps towards them and place blue hands on their heads. Much like before with Pastor Gideon and his team of hunters, the demons in front of you began to seep from the pores of their vessels. The longer your hands are on their heads, the more they are being expelled. Only when they are completely out, do you take your hands away. The bodies drop to the floor as the smoke disappears back to hell, and you look at Dean who watches you.

“What? I told you I can do this now.”

“Come on,” he rolls his eyes and heads for Brady’s office.

It’s like the demon knows you’re out there, so he uses his demonic powers and opens the door for you.

“Dean Winchester and Y/N Singer. What, no appointment?”

“Like you’d accept ours,” you mutter and head inside.

Dean wipes Ruby’s knife on a jacket hanging by the door to clean it, and the doors behind you close on their own.

“Well, then, you're just on time. Have a seat. How's your brother?” Brady asks. Dean gives him a death glare, and you both take a seat in front of his desk. “Well, down to business, then. What can I do for you?”

“Actually, it's about what we can do for you.”

“Really?”

“Me, Sam, and Y/N dropped two of your jockeys. I think you know that.”

“Yes. I got the memo.”

“Well, we kept their, uh, secret power rings. Which is why we’re here. I hear some folks saying that you want them back, and you were willing to pay.”

“Hmm. Where are they?” he asks with his hand on his chin.

“Not here,” you answer. “But because you want them, you’ll come with us civilly out of this batcave here, and we can discuss a transaction.”

“Who says I want them?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who says I want them?” he repeats slowly.

You and Dean exchange looks of confusion, and he’s the one to speak next.

“You know… folks.”

“You see,” Brady clears his throat and gets up from his desk to circle around to the front, “with War and Famine, even if I could cram the rings back on their bony fingers, I doubt it would do much good. They're withered husks right now—fetal position on the floor—all thanks to you two. So, I don't want the rings. What I want is retribution, and I'm gonna rip it right out of your asses!”

“Look out!” you yell and lunge toward Dean to protect him, but Brady is much faster.

He holds out his hands in front of him and locks you and Dean in place. Your throat begins to close as much as Dean’s is, and the demon throws you out of his office and into the hall. You land right next to Dean with a groan and look up to see Brady walking slowly towards you two.

“This is so good,” he chuckles. “Therapeutic, for sure.”

He lifts his hand to do some more damage, but you’re quicker this time. Your magic forms a force field over you and Dean so that it blocks Brady’s powers temporarily. The demon grows frustrated, but because he is the Horseman’s right-hand man, he’s a lot stronger than he lets on.

“Come on, we have to go,” you groan in pain.

“I don’t think so,” Brady growls, and uses all of his strength to throw you across the room despite a force field.

You go flying into a small table, hitting your head on the corner. The room spins as things get blurry, and you’re seeing three of Dean and Brady. As much as you want to help, you can’t do it in this state. You groan and lay limp on the floor with nothing else to do but watch.

“You know, Dean, I really owe you one, buddy, 'cause I feel,” Brady kicks Dean in the stomach now that you’re out of the way, “so,” another kick, “much,” another kick to the stomach, “better!”

“No, Dean,” you mutter.

Despite him hating your guts, you can’t help but love the man. Your magic goes into overdrive as it tries to help you fight to stand up, but even as you try to stand on your own, you crumble to the ground.

“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” Dean says as he uses all his strength to hold you against his body.

He saw an out and took it, taking you with him along the way. The room is still spinning even as your magic courses through your veins. You mumble incoherently as you use Dean as a support system for your body.

“Dean, Y/N, where are you going? We're just getting started!” Brady yells.

Dean presses the buttons fast, and the doors close before Brady can get close to it. Without any distractions, you move away from him and use the handlebars on the back of the elevator as support.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you blink rapidly to make the blurriness go away.

“I’m fine,” he sighs.

The elevator reaches the lobby, and the doors open to reveal what you left behind: dead bodies. Crowley is nowhere to be found, but at the moment, you don’t seem to care. You exit the elevator cautiously because Brady can appear almost anywhere at any time. It’s eerily quiet—too quiet. Neither demon is anywhere to be found, so you leave the elevator as quick as possible.

Suddenly, you’re hit in the exact same spot as you were before, and you go crumbling to the ground. Dean is next, and Brady stands behind you two with a wicked smile.

“Good meeting, Dean and Y/N. You know, I'm excited,” he laughs.

You turn on your back and watch as Crowley comes up behind Brady with a burlap sack that has demonic symbols on it. He shoves it over his head and begins bashing his head with a crowbar. Brady falls to the ground in a bloody mess.

“Evening, Uncle,” he grins.

“What the hell was that?” Dean coughs and stands up.

He offers you his hand, and you take it to haul yourself up. Your vision is blurrier than before, and you press your hand to the tender spot.

“That was perfect.”

“Perfect? He didn’t want the fucking rings. He wanted us, you dick,” you spat.

“Imagine the surprise on your face,” Crowley laughs.

“What?”

“Your ignorance and misinformation. I mean it’s completely authentic. You can't fake that,” he says, and you and Dean give him the death glare. “What? I-it went like clockwork.”

“Not for us, you fucking bitch!” you yell then wince at the pain in your head.

“That's what you get for working with a demon,” he tsks.

“Oh wait till I get my hands on you,” you threaten.

“Not in that state, darling. Come on, we need to hit the road before more come back.”

You and Dean are in the front seat, and Crowley and Brady are in the back. Dean is driving while dabbing his head with a rag he found to stop the bleeding. Your head is throbbing, and you have one blue hand on the wound to heal it from within and without. Crowley is busy doing whatever he’s doing, but you’re not paying attention to him.

“Dean let me heal you,” you sigh.

“Yeah like you can in that state,” he scoffs.

“Stop being a dick for once and let me heal you god damn it!”

“Pass,” he says and throws the rag down by your feet.

You roll your eyes aggressively and look away from him to avoid another argument. Your head is feeling better by the second, and soon, you’re no longer in pain. You turn back to Dean to try and convince him to let you heal him when you hear something squishing in the back seat. You and Dean look behind you to see Crowley carving something in Brady’s chest.

“Hey, hot stuff, watch the upholstery!” Dean barks.

“Up yours, mate. This bit of carving will tie our friend here down. No zapping off and no smoking out. He’s locked in the meat suit. It’s an important piece of our bargaining strategy. Now, up here, we don't want I-50. Take 93 north.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“Look, we can't take this guy back to Sam.”

“Why the hell not?” Dean demands. When he gets no response, he grows angrier. “Crowley!”

“They got history, alright?”

Dean doesn’t take this as an acceptable answer, and he slams on the brakes. The car screeches to a stop, and you have to put your hands on the dashboard to prevent yourself from going through the windshield.

“You want to go anywhere, you start talking. What history?”

Crowley takes a deep breath and begins his story.

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[jadewritings]

The Other Nephilim Finale

PAIRING: Castiel x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.6k+

WARNINGS: Language, Death, Fluffyfluff

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Heyo! Last chapter of this series! There is a sequel in the works and you’ll get more romance between cas and Y/N so I hope you enjoy!

In the impala, everyone was silent. Sam has explained everything about Lucifer possessing her and her trying to fight him. Dean was was shocked, along with Cas. Everyone thought they were done with him.

Y/N sat in the middle of Castiel and Jack. Her head had fallen on Castiel’s shoulder but he didn’t move her.

The silence was interrupted when she whined and shifted, causing her to fall into Castiel’s lap. Everyone looked back and Dean chuckled at the sight. Castiel couldn’t bring himself to push her away, so he adjusted so her face was upright, a pained expression written clear as day on her.

“It’s not funny, Dean.” Castiel glared at the driver. Dean only nodded his head and tried as he might, couldn’t keep the chuckles at bay. Castiel tightened his grip on the girl, worried. Maybe not just for their sake, but for hers as well.

••••

Inside her head, Y/N was panting. She didn’t think it would drain her this much but it was easier now that she was passed out. Lucifer couldn’t control her and hopefully the boys were somewhere safe.

Lucifer circled her in his gloppy form, “Why can’t you just make this easy for yourself? They don’t matter. You’ve barely even known them! So why protect them?”

She huffed, sweat slid down her forehead, plopping onto her cheek. She wiped it away, her vision going in and out of blurriness.

“Because, they’ve shown me more love than you ever could.”

“Oh don’t give me that bull. They came to kill you. If I hadn’t have shown them that it was me and not you, they would have certainly followed through.”

“No-”

“Yes! And I bet you, that Dean would have been the one to pull the trigger.” He smiled, he was getting to her.

“No!” She said with more force, “Jack wouldn’t let them even if they did. He’s my brother. I know he wouldn’t have.”

“What makes you so sure?” He stepped towards her. She didn’t have the energy to step back. “Huh? What reason would he have to save you?” Y/N didn’t answer. He had a point. She couldn’t think of one reason. Just because she’s family? No. If that were the case, then he wouldn’t be so dead set against Lucifer.

Lucifer wrapped his hand around her throat when she was caught off guard. She fought for air, her hands digging into the blackness of his skin. Her throat burned, for air, because he was acidic, toxic.

“Now, you’ll have no one. If you had just listened to me. Maybe you could have been my star. My perfect little weapon.” Her face turned red, then a shade of purple.

“N...N-o!” She gurgled. Her eyes flashed gold and lifted her hands up, sending them back down. The golden pulse from before sent Lucifer flying back.

She dropped to the floor in a coughing fit. Her lungs burned as the air entered them once again.

The shelves he went flying into, broke and he stepped through the rubble with a chuckle. “You’ll never learn will you? No one can defeat me. I’ll just keep coming back! And back, and back, and back.” He taunted with each step towards her. “Until I get what I came for. I might even take your precious little Castiel.”

“NO!”

••••

Y/N was still out when they arrived back at the bunker. Castiel carried her out and inside this time. But she started to convulse in his arms and electricity started to crackle around them.

“Sam, Dean!” He called.

They turned around at the door and saw the scene.

“Get her inside! Hurry up!” Dean yelled, opening the iron door quickly.

They secured her in the chair, the devils trap underneath in a blood red. The dungeon is exactly as it sounds. They used it to hold most of their captures if that’s what it took. Dean has even been in there before. Sam too.

Y/N continued to convulse.

“What do we do, we can’t just sit here! She’s dying!” Jack yelled. The atmosphere was too intense, the outcome of the situation being unknown made Jack worry even more.

“What is there to do? She’s the only one who can get him out, Jack.” Dean responded.

An idea popped into his head, “What if I go in there?” Jack hoped.

“In where? Her head?” Dean asked.

“No. That could make this more dangerous. For her and yourself.” Castiel grunted his response. He got it. Jack wanted to help but to risk himself too, he wouldn’t let him.

“Wait, look!” Sam interrupted their conversation, drawing everyone’s attention to Y/N.

Black seeped out of her mouth and she began to gurgle. Her body lurched forward and even more spewed out.

••••

Y/N rushed at Lucifer, he was ready for her. He grabbed her arms and flung her into the wall. She squeaked and stood again, not yet done.

She rushed at him again.

She ducked under his fist and threw one into his goopy stomach, igniting her power.

It blew out a piece of his body, splattering on the wall. Lucifer grunted but picked her up by the hair and flung her onto the floor. The black dripped from the hole, it not seeming to affect him.

“Nice try.”

“I’m not done yet!” She jumped up and threw herself on top of him. He took the brunt of the fall. She threw fist after fist at him, screaming.

“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET. OUT. OF. MY. HEAD!!” She threw both fists up and down, making contact on his head. The golden shockwave surrounded them and the next thing she knew, it was silent.

Her eyes opened and it took a minute to adjust to her surroundings. She felt liquid drip from her mouth and she coughed out more. She looked down and saw the black soon turn to red.

“Y/N?” She heard her name. That voice. It sounded so familiar. Jack?

Everyone looked on in shock, maybe astonishment. Her eyes, as they opened, were red but all too soon flickered to gold.

Jack stepped next to her and called her name. Was it really her? It had to be. A black puddle spread out in front of her.

“Jack?” It hurt to talk. Her voice was but a whisper. Even then it was gravelly.

“Y/N, hey.” He smiled, “It’s me.”

“Where am I? Is everyone okay?” She looked up at the other three faces in the room. It was so hard to stay awake.

“Yeah, we’re all fine.”

Her vision seemed to tilt and she was surrounded in darkness.

“Y/N?” Jack shook her but Castiel put his hand on his shoulder.

“I think she needs some rest. Let’s get her cleaned up and in a bed.”

Jack looked back then down at the floor before nodding. He undid the restraints and took off the stained jacket.

Castiel picked her up bridal style and Jack followed.

••••

It was three days later that Y/N finally woke up again. Castiel was the first to see her awake.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

She sat up, her joints popped and her muscles cramped from laying down for so long.

“Not too shabby I guess.” She jerked her head to the left and right, popping it before rolling her shoulders. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost four days. It’s evening now.” He responded. She hummed and a silence settled over them.

“How is everyone?” She asked hesitantly.

“Dean and Sam are on a hunt but I don’t think Dean wants to kill you anymore so that’s a plus.”

She chuckled. “And Jack? Where’s he?”

Castiel folded his hands in his lap, “He’s asleep. He’s been by your side ever since you’ve been out. I had to force him to go to sleep.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize he cared that much.” She was surprised, that much was true. Ever since she finally met him, she felt a strong bond. One she hadn’t felt with Lucifer.

“He cares a lot more than you think he does.”

Another silence.

“You know, he was the only one who knew you weren’t killing people.”

Her E/C eyes met his ocean blue ones.

“If he wasn’t so persistent, we wouldn’t have slowed down long enough to save you, as harsh as that sounds.” Castiel have her a small smile.

She placed her hand on top of his, running her thumb along the curve of his knuckles, “Thank you, Castiel.”

“For what?” He asked. His eyes moved to her hand. It was soft, and warm on his.

“For being there for my brother. For being the father he deserves. For being you.” Her hand moved up to cup his cheek, a small smile replacing the pain in her words.

“You really are handsome, you know that?”

The moment was all too real for Castiel. His hand matched hers as he took it from his cheek and held it within his own.

“Y/N... I-I can’t-”

“I know.” She stopped him before he could continue, “I’m a nephilim. An abomination. I shouldn’t exist. But I do. And now that Lucifer doesn’t control me anymore, I’m free. But that still doesn’t mean I get what I want.”

Castiel looked at her, confused.

She laughed with a sigh and leaned her forehead on his. Their breath mingled as she leaned forward and kissed the side of his mouth, not quite on his lips.

“I’m going to go to Jack’s room. Goodnight Castiel.” She stood and left him to wonder, does he have feelings for her?

-BONUS-

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[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Of Forbidden Kisses And Wrenching Promises || Ada Shelby x fem!reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: “hey, could I request prompt 20 for Ada please? your writing is amazing btw! ”  (Thank you love ♡)

Summary:  n.20 from my prompt list: “As long as I am alive” Warnings: swearing, mentions of family abuse, references to homophobic harassment, maybe angst

Author’s notes:

I just reached 357 followers, yay! Thank you so much babes ♡

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

PLEASE, IF YOU’RE A VICTIM OF ANY SORT OF ABUSE, SEEK FOR HELP, YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS ALONE.

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

I assumed this was a request for an Ada x female reader, if I misunderstood your message, I’m so so so sorry, contact me and I’ll do my best to make your wishes come true!

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

When the first reticent knock hit the rugged surface of her door, Ada was still pacefully immersed in a deep slumber. She dreamt of an exquisite white dress  made of voile and organza, soft and floaty in the late March bitter air, the nectarous parfume of uncountable orange blossoms garnishing the marble altar, a small church crowded with her loved ones, slightly anxious due to the endless wait. Actually, more than once, her subconscious had previously set up similar romantic scenarios thanks to her evergreen imagination. Truth was that, buried in her heart, laid a burning desire for that special day to come soon, only God knew how much she wanted to walk down the aisle on the arm of her beloved eldest brother, always keeping her fond eyes locked with her lover’s ones; and, no matter how fully aware she was that her fantasies never would have come true, at least nobody could deprive her of those tender imaginary moments.

But then, just as the opening notes of the wedding march resounded in the bright nave, a series of new blows, this time much heavier and more insistent, rabidly stole her from her sweet dreams, making her eyelids flinch with dismay. Barely a minute passed, as her drowsy brain struggled to retrieve enough lucidity, yet again a pair of apparently restless fists caught her attention. ”Someone better be dying, it’s fucking 3 a.m.!” With that angry groan, followed by a few abrupt movements, she rolled out of bed without even wearing her woolen housecoat, and, careless of the cold, she hastily reached for the door, ready to shout in Tommy’s cocky face all of her annoyance for that rude disruption of her serene sleep. Still, when she peeped into the corridor, Thomas was not there, and her breathe cracked as she found herself unexpectedly contemplating a horryfying sight, to say the least.

Your trembling figure was standing right in front of her, pure painc contaminating your martyred face, while your y/e/c eyes, as dire as stravation, disturbingly stared at Ada with blind terror swimming in them. The shock was overwhelming, to the point that one of her hands instinctively went to cover her open mouth, partially muffling her shaking voice which came out in an almost unaudible sigh. “Oh my God, y/n, what have they done to you?” She carefully led you inside the room before closing the door behind your shoulders, so many questions were torturing her mind as her fingers gently started to trace the limbs of the multiple bruises deturping your angelic features. Your swollen eyes were cordoned by several black and blue marks, greenish welts covered your cheekbones, multiple bad cuts defaced your brow, the bridge of your nose, your wonderful lips; for an endless moment, her heartbeat stopped, and a violent feeling of nausea forcefully climbed her throat, when the mere thought of the rest of your poor body ran through her groggy head. “M-my father… he saw us, I-I don’t know how… I don’t kn-now… He found out, he’s…” Your chest raised and lowered at an unbearable rate, clearly showing the destructive effects of a recent trauma on your frail self, you didn’t even seem able to formulate proper sentences, since they sporadically spilled out of your mouth in fleeble sobs, so you decided to pause that unquiet rambling for a brief moment, tightly shutting your eyes closed and desperately pressing your wet cheek against Ada’s left palm, despite the sharp pain, because you irremediably needed to feel her close in order to regain strength. However, by the time your blurry gaze returned on her, you saw large tears stream on her porcelain face too. A dull ache radiated through your sternum due to that excruciating view, and you forced yourself to hold back your crying, somehow managing to appear calmer; the two of you had to deal with that cruel reality, there was no way you could avoid it, moreover you were quickly running out of time as the clock kept dangerously ticking.  “He’s sending me to an institute in French, Ada. A-a ship is leaving in a couple hours and-” Before you could pronounce your next word, she impetuosly got away from your half embrace, prey of her own rage and consternation, aghast to hear that terrible news. “No! He can’t do that, fucking hell, no!”  Those hysteric shrieks erupted from her stinging craw while her hands ended up between her short curly hair in a gesture of silent vexation, her feet eluded the control of her mind, frenetically starting to drag her from one side of the bedroom to another, as if those irrational movements could help her figure out a solution. “We can’t let him-… w-we have to do something, there must be something we can do!”

Her agonizing loud cries tore your ears and soul apart, actual weeps were now leaving her pale lips, in part illuminated by the silver light of the moon radiating through the windows, then her bluish irises pierced yours, expressing all of her destructive sorrow and having a massive knot form in your throat, mercilessly obstaculating your already irregular ventilation. Carefully, you approached her, stretching out your arms in her direction, until your palms enfolded her gelid face; your thumbs began to warmly rub her skin, whiping some tears here and there, with such a care conceivable only thanks to the deepest love.

“Ada, my love, listen to me. I have to go, for our sake” your forehead slowly joined to hers, while you whispered those words to convince yourself as well that that was the right choice to make “my father… he-e threatened to report us to the police. And look at me, look what he’s done to me, he w-will kill us both, if I don’t leave today” Suddenly her fingers entangled yours, still laid on her soft cheeks, and you watched a spark of hope grow in her dilated pupils. “We can run away, Tommy will help us find a place, we can-” You slightly nodded your head no, painfully biting your lips because of your fervent frustration. You knew she was not thinking straight, your family had been in business with the Peaky Blinders for three years now, your father was a dangerous man, any sort of interference with that awful situation would’ve certainly disrupted the delicate balance between the two clans.

“Thomas can’t help us, he will always find me. I had to sneak out of the window to see you tonight, walking in the shadow like a filthy thief. Pol helped me, but God knows what will happen, if he finds out. I have to leave.” You brought your mouth to cover hers, temporarily dampening her desperate wailings, holding her body close, in attempt to make her perceive all of your affection, deliberately ignoring the soreness of your injuried ribs. For those few minutes all of your affliction disappeared, you passionately kissed your lover till you literally run out of breathe, but again, you didn’t care, and you just went on; until Polly entered the room with death floating in her dark irises. “Y/n, we need to go now, there is no much time left, darling" Her aunt’s subdued tone was evidently borne by melancholy, she looked at your entangled figures with the ken of a woman who had experienced the sour taste of separation, it felt like having your heart ripped out of your chest, she had felt so many kinds of pain, but none of them was nearly comparable to that tremendous grief. With a last peck on your lips, Ada took your hands and placed them at the height of her beating heart. “I’ll look for you, for as long as I am alive. And I’ll find you, no matter how long it takes, I will bring you back home, y/n, I promise.”

tag list: @namelesslosers; @shadow-of-wonder; @spidey-pal

[xsixxx]

Bad Influence, Chapter Five

Authors note: Sorry this one took a while, I’ve had a hectic week with work & stuff, I’ve barely had time to breathe 🤦🏼‍♀️ I’m sorry if there are mistakes, it’s 3am & I’m too tired to proof read it 100 times like I normally do 😂 Feedback is always welcome 🖤

Warnings: Language, catfight, tiny bit of smut but not really, like there’s a hint

Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @deaconsroger @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby

The sunlight filtered in through the broken blinds & bathed my bare back in warmth as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings & my brain tried to piece together the night before. I turned my head to look around me, trying to figure out where I was & was confronted by a tangled mess of blonde hair, snoring softly.

Oh great. I’m a fucking groupie.

I groaned as the memories from last night came flooding back, accompanying the pounding sensation I had going on in my head. This hangover sucked. Guess that’d be the coke for you. Fuck.

I slipped out of Vinces bed, or rather mattress on the floor, & onto the filthy carpet, scanning the room for my clothes. I heard someone move about outside the door & quickly grabbed the closest thing to me & threw it on in a sorry attempt to cover what was left of my dignity. The tshirt, it turns out, didn’t offer much coverage at all, just about covering my ass. I pulled it down & I waddled awkwardly over to the door, dodging the scorch marks & charred cockroaches on the floor, opened it fractionally to peer out & check the coast was clear, before darting across the hall & into the bathroom. I stood with my back against the cool, wooden door, trying to collect my thoughts & even out my nervous breathing. I’m not prepared for this. We established last night that I’d never had a one night stand, I don’t know the fucking protocol for this kinda thing, let alone when the one night stand is with the notorious, womanising, front man of Mötley Crüe. Oh great, I’ve only gone & fucked up that friendship group. Just when I was starting to like them. Nice going, Beth.

I looked at my disgruntled, disheveled reflection in the mirror. My wavy blonde hair fell in a tangled mess down my back & yesterdays mascara was sitting lazily under my tired eyes. I sighed & looked around the bathroom to see if there was anything I could use to at least wash my face with. Frustratingly, hygiene didn’t seem to be a top priority when you’re a rockstar & the bathroom was significantly lacking in soap. All that sat beside the sink was a hairbrush, a can of hairspray & some black face paint. I grumbled as I grabbed the hairbrush, removed, presumably Nikkis, matted up black hair from it & tried my hardest to tame my hair before washing my face as best I could with just water. I looked back at my reflection in the cracked, hair dye stained mirror & ran my fingers nervously through my hair. I looked slightly more fresh faced than I did before, but I wasn’t planning on sticking round long enough for anyone to see me anyway. I put my hand on the bathroom doorknob, took a deep breath & prepared myself to run across to Vinces room, quietly find my clothes & leave in the shortest amount of time possible. I gritted my teeth, opened the door & ran. Straight into the bare chest of Nikki Sixx.

“Well, well, well, maybe my little angel isn’t so angelic after all”

My jaw tensed. I almost didn’t want to look up, knowing that that smirk was waiting for me. I lifted my eyes slowly to meet his & they flashed wickedly, that shit eating grin sitting largely on his face.

“I’m not your anything.” I bit back at him, placing my hand on his chest to shove past. Through my irritation & hideous awkwardness, the feel of his skin under my touch still managed to send a surge of electricity through my body, causing my cheeks to immediately flush pink. I scowled at my impulses & quickly snatched my hand back, attempting to barge past Nikki, but his tall, toned frame didn’t budge, blocking my way. I took a step back, frustration evident on my tired, bare face, rested one hand on my hip & glared at Nikki, wordlessly, with all the anger my hungover body could muster.

“I gotta say, you look damn good in my tshirt.” He spoke, looking me up & down, his dark, hungry eyes resting momentarily on the tops of my thighs where his tshirt was riding up. I fumbled awkwardly, yanking it down to cover my modesty.

“My bad, I thought it was Vinces.” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“Nah, your boyfriend doesn’t like Kiss.” He chuckled lightly. “Fancy some breakfast?”

“Um no thanks, I’m not really hungry.” I replied, smartly choosing to ignore Nikkis comment.

“Good, because we don’t have any food. I meant, did you want a rockstars breakfast?” Nikki produced a little bag of brilliant white powder from the pocket of last nights leather trousers that he was still wearing, before walking over to the kitchen area & cutting it up on the work surface. “It’s an incredible hangover cure.” He winked mischievously, offering me a rolled up note. I shook my head, my thoughts in a far more rational state than they were last night. Nikki shrugged before bending over & vacuuming his mess up. I rolled my eyes, turning back towards Vinces room, when the door to, I had presumed, Nikkis room, swung open & out walked the girl Nikki was all over last night, in nothing but a lacy pair of underwear. She flashed an almost territorial look in my direction as she stalked past me & over to Nikki, draping her arms around him. He looked bored as she ran her fingers through his matted, black hair & didn’t even flinch when she grazed her teeth along his earlobe.

“Come back to bed baby.” I heard her whisper in a low, sultry voice.

“Not with you dollface.” Nikki said bluntly, shrugging off the stunning brunette, making her stumble back slightly. “Get your shit, you can leave out with window.” He waved his hand in the direction of his room as if he was hoping to magically wave her away. She didn’t take to well to that.

“You asshole!” She yelled, storming away from him. “What about this bitch, huh? Why doesn’t she have to leave?!” She shrieked, stopping next to me & pointing rudely,

“Not my fuck, not my problem.” Nikki shrugged, letting out a amused laugh. I shot him daggers, which only made him chuckle more. “Plus, she’ll be leaving out of my window in an hour or so, rather than out of Vinnys.” He smiled devilishly, that hunger returning to his eyes once again. I felt myself grow hot, momentarily lost in my lust. That was until a sharp pain seared through my head, snapping me out of it, as the half naked brunette grabbed a fistful if my hair & dragged me down towards the putrid carpet. I let out a wail as I instinctively started swinging my arms towards her in any sort of attempt to get her off.

“What the fu-” I started to yell, breathlessly, as the pain increased as her nails dug deeper into my scalp. I felt one of my flailing fists come into contact with flesh & suddenly the vice like grip on my hair was released & I dropped to the ground. Everything had gone blurry as I fought back the tears of pain & panic & I struggled to navigate my way back into a stranding position, until a rough hand was extended towards me. I grabbed hold of Nikki as he pulled me back up. I stopped & took a few deep breaths, trying to work out what just happened. I turned to look at the half naked groupie, clutching an angry red mark on her cheek where my fist had caught her.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I screamed at her, frantically trying to smooth out my hair over my throbbing scalp.

“He’s mine, you fucking wannabe slut.” She spat back at me, her tone full of venom & eyes full of hatred. Nikki let out a sharp, loud laugh.

“Bitch, I’m not anybody’s.” Nikki chuckled, almost enjoying the situation.

“But I thought we had something..” She started to say, her face pink with anger & embarassment.

Nikki cut her off, seeming bored again. “Clearly you don’t know me very well. Sweetheart, you’re the same as all the rest, a fun way to end a show.”

My head snapped round to face Nikki, disbelief & disgust flooding over me. I’d heard him use those words before. I looked back towards the woman in front of me, looking utterly humiliated, trying her hardest to cover herself as she turned & ran towards Nikkis room, presumably to leave the same way she came in, through that window that was quickly becoming infamous. I watched her go & I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was stunning, tall, toned, with flawless skin & a face most women would die for & yet, with those few words, Nikki had managed to destroy any confidence she had, shame her & break her heart, all at the same time. The same way he did to my sister.

I looked at his smug face & shoved him with more anger & force than I realised, sending him stumbling back before falling flat on his ass. “You fucking asshole, Sixx.”

“What the fuck, Beth?! Is crazy bitch fucking contagious or something?! He shouted, sounding genuinely stunned.

“How can you treat women that way?! Fucking use them & throw them out like they’re not worth a damn thing. Have you got so little respect for us?!” I screamed, Nikkis face growing darker & angrier with each word I hurled at him. But suddenly, he stood himself back up & his anger melted away, revealing that notorious smirk in its place. He had a ice cold look in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine &, for some reason, a flash of fear ran through me.

“Oh Princess, it must be hard work up their in your ivory fucking tower, looking down & casting your fucked up, hypocritical judgements on us unworthy people.” Nikkis voice was as smooth as silk, but his words were cold & razor sharp as he started taking steps towards me. “What do you think happened last night, Angel? Because if you think my boy Vince is going to come out of that room full of romance & kisses & offer to buy you breakfast, you’re in for a nasty fucking suprise.” His voice oozed arrogance but his eyes stayed cruel, fixed on mine as he continued to walk towards me. “You’re just like the rest of them Lizzy. You drink our booze & you sniff our drugs & you fall for our charm &, for one night, you serve a purpose to us. You fuck us because we let you believe you’re worth something, we make you think we care. But here’s the truth baby, we don’t. You don’t mean shit to us. You’re a gullible, cheap way to get our dicks wet & as soon as that’s done, we’ve got no fucking use for you. You’re a slut, Princess, just like the rest of them. Just like your sister.”

I felt the hot, humiliated tears creep into my eyes & spill down my cheeks. Nikki smirked as he watched them fall. “Did I upset the little privileged, rich girl? Better run home to Daddy.”

I looked into those harsh, green eyes, wondering how I’d ever felt any kind of desire towards him. Anger filled my veins, anger towards Nikki & anger towards my own damn idiocy. I knew this was who he was, I knew he was a bad person. So why did this cut me so damn deep? I’d let myself get played by him & he knew that as well as I did. He was the Devil himself & I’d been stupid enough to let him tempt me. I looked at his full, pink lips, the lips that, just last night, I had craved on my skin with a fierce desire, now twisted into a cruel grin that seemed to be enjoying my humiliation.

“I never wanted to be one of those girls.” I whispered, finally finding my voice at last.

“But Princess, you are one of those girls, why else would you be here?”

“I don’t expect anything from Vince, I don’t want anything either. I used him last night as much as he used me.” I said with more conviction, determined not to let Nikki win. “I wanted sex, so did Vince, it was a mutual thing,” I shrugged. It was true, I didn’t want anything more from Vince than what we’d had last night & I needed Nikki to know that he was wrong. I needed to pretend his words didn’t hurt me.

Just then, the door to Vinces room opened & out he walked with his tangled mess of blonde hair & just a off-white, grubby looking sheet tied around his waist. He frowned as he scanned the room, seeing me practically against the wall with Nikki in my face, assesed the situation & tried to figure out what was happening.

“Sixx, maybe leave it a few hours before going after my leftovers, yeah?” Vince winked at me. “We got any blow?” He asked with a yawn. Nikki tossed him the little baggy of coke & I left them cutting up lines whilst I went to go find my clothes & get dressed.

*Nikkis POV*

That stuck up bitch was really starting to get on my fucking nerves.

“So when’s the next chick arriving Vin?” I asked, loud enough for Beth to hear as she walked off into the bedroom that Vince & Tommy shared, although fuck knows where T-Bone ended up last night. Vince shushed me as he looked towards the bedroom, before shooting me a look. “What?!” I chuckled, “it’s not like she doesn’t know you’re a single-use kinda guy.”

Vince scoffed, nodding his head. “True man, true.” He smirked. He glanced over to the bedroom door, almost longingly, for a brief second. “I tell you what though, man, it’s the ones you don’t expect that end up being the fucking filthiest. She’s a damn good fuck.” He laughed, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes, my irritation towards her growing. “That’s probably because she’s never been fucked before, you know what those snobby, rich chicks are like, they like being roughed up when all they’re used to is ‘making love’ in fucking missionary.” I sneered, trying to make fun at Beths expense.

“That’s probably true man.” Vince laughed, snorting up his last line. “But honestly, I don’t give a fuck why, that chick is a freak & she’s got a mouth like a fucking angel.” I watched him bite his lip at the memory.

I felt a momentary surge of jealousy course through me as my mind inadvertently wondered towards what it’d be like to have havs Beths lips around my cock, those big, doe-like brown eyes staring longingly up at me as I fucked that pretty mouth of hers. The slam of the bedroom door snapped me out of dirty little day dream & little Miss Too-Good-For-You came storming out of the bedroom, her face still evidentially seething.

“Have a bump with us, dollface.” Vince cooed, grabbing Beth by the waist & pulling her over. I smirked at her, knowing full well she wouldn’t break Daddy’s rules sober. She looked me & I watched the determination wash over her. She smiled smugly at me as she took the rolled up note Vince had extended to her & snorted up the last line of coke. I felt my jaw tighten in annoyance.

“Wow, you’re one of the lucky groupies that gets to steal our drugs after she’s served her purpose.” I drawled, condescendingly, trying my damn hardest to get to her again.

“Ignore him babe. Sixx tends to be an asshole when I pull someone he fancies.”

That blonde prick, I fumed.

“If I wanted her, I could’ve had her.” I shrugged with enough confidence to mask my growing anger.

Beth let our a sharp laugh. “That’d require me to actually fancy you back, you arrogant piece of shit.” She said boldly. I honestly didn’t know whether I wanted to scream at her & throw her out or bend her over my knee & make sure she never fucking spoke to me like that again. Who does she think she is?!

“Come on baby, lets go back to bed.” Smirked Vince, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck & pulling her in for a kiss. I was stunned. Vince never fucked a girl more than once. His motto was hit it & quit it. If they weren’t out the window by sunrise, he made it very fucking clear they weren’t welcome there any longer.

Vinny took hold of Beths hand & lead her back to his bedroom as she giggled like a schoolgirl. I watched her slink off, her skirt riding up slightly so her ass peeked out from beneath the material as she went. She must’ve felt my eyes trailing along every inch of her because she turned & blew me a patronising kiss before slamming the door shut.

I hated her. Beth was everything I couldn’t stand about people. She was stuck up & came from the sort of family that looked down on people like me. She was so self assured & judgmental & she had an ability to piss me off like no-one I’ve ever met. I hated her with a passion & yet, I fucking wanted her just as badly.

Through all of my anger & hatred, as I heard her sweet moans of pleasure drift from Vinces bedroom, I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d sound like moaning my name.

[grovyrosegirl]

Ugly Sweaters

(AO3 Link)

Summary: It’s Jesse McCree’s first Christmas with Overwatch. He starts out the night trying to endure a crowded holiday party at Reinhardt’s apartment, but maybe there’s such a thing as Christmas magic after all. 

Author’s Note: Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this silly little Christmas fic I cooked up! 

It’s Jesse McCree’s first Christmas since his “recruitment” into Overwatch. He’s standing in the corner of Reinhardt Wilhelm’s apartment, crowded with Overwatch agents and their plus-ones. He holds a cup of eggnog topped with cinnamon shavings in one hand.

Reinhardt’s place feels straight out of a holiday catalogue. Every door in the apartment has a wreath hanging, while every table is covered with a scarlet red tablecloth. Whenever he glances up, Jesse can see waves of homemade snowflake streamers across the ceiling. A large Christmas tree covered in an array of ornaments and multicolored lights stands in the center of the room. The topper of the tree is a wooden, bright yellow star. Traditional, save for the Overwatch insignia carved into its center. Beneath the branches are piles of carefully wrapped gifts, each one topped with a red or green ribbon. There’s a lone mistletoe hanging on the doorway to the kitchen. The more observant guests—also known as the sober ones—are careful to avoid walking directly under it when they pass through.

There’s scarcely a moment to hear his own thoughts between the chattering of the party-goers mixed in with the blasting of festive songs in the background. Hardly any room to move either. It seems the different friend groups had already found their spots in the small space and weren’t planning on budging anytime soon, lost in endless conversations.

He can spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Reyes and Morrison were lucky enough to have grabbed the available seats on the only couch in the place. The two of them are having a conversation that Jesse can’t hear, but he can assume it’s a good one, considering that Morrison suddenly starts cracking up over something Reyes says. He sees Reyes smack Morrison’s back, laughing along with him and nearly spilling his drink in the process.

Angela Ziegler, a med student who often comes to visit, is among the guests as well. She’s standing at the dessert table, grabbing a slice of cake until Captain Sojourn, another familiar face, waves her over to join in on a chat with her and Torbjörn. Angela looks delighted to see them and makes her way over. Probably asking her about her studies or congratulating her about some presentation she gave at her school’s conference, Jesse predicts.

Angela is one of the only people here around his age, and Jesse would be lying to himself if he said he still didn’t find her attractive. In their first interactions, there had been a few attempts to make a move. A small wink or the occasional hat-tip towards her. But though she enjoyed his company, Angela had already made it clear that she wasn’t interested in anything beyond a friendship. She was hardly searching for any kind of romance at the moment. What’s the expression? “Married to her work?” That seems to sum it up nicely.

Which is fine. A friend is better than an enemy, Jesse tells himself.

Reinhardt, the ever-joyous host, is moving across the apartment. In his arms he carries a large silver plate of homemade Stollen which he offers to any guest he sees without a snack or a drink. Some happily accept a slice of the fruity bread, while others politely decline. Even with the denials, Reinhardt gives them a cheerful smile and reminds them of the bounty of other treats on the nearby tables.

And finally, there’s Captain Amari. She makes her way through the room with her young daughter, Fareeha, by her side. A well-known face at the party, she’s recognized by almost everyone she passes, which makes her have to stop every few moments to greet them.

He swears for a moment that Captain Amari swerves her head to look at him. But when he looks again, her attention is with Fareeha. She seems to have bent down to whisper something to her daughter. Fareeha nods and moves away from her, pushing her way through the crowd towards the Christmas tree.

Jesse feels a voice in the back of his mind. Go over to someone. Talk. Try to make it so that this night isn’t a total waste of time.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he turns his attention away from the happy faces of the bright party. He lets his eyes drift back to the eggnog in his hand, then he raises the cup closer to his lips.

That is, until a hand suddenly swoops in to snatch the eggnog away from him.

“Hey—” Jesse starts, but stops when he sees Ana’s face two feet away, giving him a smirk. “Captain.”

“Jesse,” she says dangling the eggnog in one hand. She brings it closer to her face and sniffs it. Immediately she draws it back, nodding as she does. “I think you’re a bit too young for this stuff.”

Jesse folds his arms, “With all due respect, Captain Amari, I’ve had plenty of drinks in my life. And the legal age of drinking in Switzerland is eighteen.”

“And are you eighteen?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Give it six months, but why not start early?” He starts to reach to retrieve the stolen drink.

Ana laughs and retracts her hand with perfect reflex, “Nice try.”

“What ever happened to the spirit of giving?” says Jesse.

“Right here. Consider it my gift to you that I won’t allow you to wake up on Christmas morning with a hangover. Trust me, cowboy, they’re the worst ones.”

Jesse sighs, accepting defeat. “Fine.”

She gestures her head at the snacks across the room, “Reinhardt makes a delicious hot cocoa. I’d recommend it.”

“Maybe,” he says as he leans back against the wall with another sigh.

Ana doesn’t take the gesture to leave, “I didn’t take you for a wallflower, Jesse.”

“I’m not,” he retorts. “I’m just...a bit overwhelmed, I guess. Haven’t been to a party like this in years. Wasn’t even planning on coming to this one, but Reyes insisted.”

“I’m glad he did,” Ana says, moving to stand next to him. “We’re happy you’re here.”

Jesse gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “C’mon Captain, you don’t have to break out the schmaltzy lines to make me feel better. I know that’s common around Christmas. I don’t need them.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Ana replies, “because if you ever accuse me of being ‘schmaltzy’ ever again, I’ll be happy to prove you wrong.” She chuckles, but then looks back to him with sincerity in her voice, “I’m not trying to patronize you. I just want you to know that you’re welcome here.”

Jesse doesn’t respond. He can’t meet her eyes again after that last statement. He can only shift his head to the side and try to focus his attention on a couple in the distance who, likely after a few drinks, accidentally walk under the mistletoe together. The taller partner realizes it first and begins to laugh until their cheeks turn pink. The shorter one looks confused until a nearby acquaintance points out the little plant hanging above, and they join in on the laughter before planting a kiss on their partner’s cheek.

There it was. Actual schmaltz. Cheesy, yet a good distraction.

But Ana’s voice persists.

“You’re an Overwatch agent now. And you should know that, once Gabriel puts you in the field, you’re going to see bad things on a near daily basis. Some of the most terrible things the world has to offer.”

Jesse shuffles against the wall, his gaze still avoiding her.

“You don't need to warn me,” Jesse replies. “I’m well aware that the world can be a real shithole.”

Ana states, “I know that. You’re not stupid. And even if you were, I wouldn’t sugarcoat the truth to make you ‘feel better’ about being here.”

“So why bring it up then?” Jesse mutters, irritation is growing in his tone.

“Because the truth is exactly I said. We’re happy you’re here.”

He goes quiet again.

“The world can be a ‘shithole,’ as you said,” she says, “but there’s the key word, cowboy. Can be. Not is. The truth is very painful sometimes. Other times, it’s not. And just because something hurts, doesn’t make it automatically true.”

Jesse slowly turns his head back towards her. She’s smiling at him.

“So let yourself enjoy the softer truths when you can, okay? We want you here with us, and we’re glad you’re here with us.”

He doesn’t have any smart response, or a witty joke to deflect the tightness he’s suddenly feeling in his throat.

He only nods.

She reaches with her free hand and pats his shoulder, “And I’m here. When you need me.”

Jesse swallows, fighting off the tightness enough to say, “Thanks Captain.”

“Mum!”

A younger, chipper voice breaks through the noise Jesse has been tuning out. Both he and Ana look ahead. Fareeha returns, pushing her way through the crowd of taller party-goers. She’s holding a box, wrapped in a bright green paper tied with a red bow. A beaming smile present on her face.

“I found it!” Fareeha exclaims.

“Perfect timing, habībti,” Ana remarks happily.

Jesse looks to Fareeha, a smile tugging at his lips, “Aw, get something nice for your mom, Fareeha?”

Fareeha smirks. Jesse discovers she has the same one as her mother, “It’s for you.”

His smile drops. Not in sadness. Not in fear. Only pure surprise.

“For me?” He repeats.

Fareeha rolls her eyes and lifts up the tag on the gift, his name neatly written on it, “No, for the other Jesse McCree here—Yes for you, dummy. Mum made it.”

She practically shoves the gift into his arms. Jesse flinches from the suddenness, nearly dropping it in the process. He regains a grip on the box, staring down at his blurry reflection in the shiny paper.

“I—I don’t,” Jesse struggles for words. “You didn’t have to—,”

Fareeha groans, “Will you open it already?”

“Fareeha,” Ana lightly scolds. “Be patient.”

Jesse slowly starts with the ribbon. He pulls an end, and with one tug, the whole thing comes off. He then lifts the top of the box off, letting it drop to the floor. Something big is inside. Soft, too. He can spot a shade of scarlet red peeking out from the cardboard. Ana reaches over and holds the bottom of the box, allowing Jesse to use both hands to lift the item out.

It’s a red sweater. A handmade knit sweater. Like the kind he used to see in old Christmas specials as a kid.

“What do you think?” Ana asks him. “I’m still a beginner when it comes to knitting, but I think this one is my best work so far.”

Well, okay, it isn’t perfect. The sweater is about two sizes bigger than him. He can spot a few places where Ana clearly messed up a row and had to start over. There seems to be an attempt to knit in a snowflake pattern across the chest area, but it more resembles a bunch of squiggly lines than snow. Still, she managed to get in a bunch of star patterns across the red yarn. And the centerpiece of the sweater, a reindeer, is the best-looking part of it.

“It’s uh,” says Jesse, running his fingers across the soft texture, “it looks warm.”

Ana laughs and shakes her head, “And after I was so honest with you.”

Jesse groans, “Captain, I’m trying here, alright?”

“Put it on,” Fareeha interjects.

He looks back to her, “Pardon?”

Fareeha folds her arms, “Put it on. You have to, for the picture. It’s the rules.”

It’s in that moment that Jesse finally notices that Fareeha is wearing a blue sweater of her own. It looks near identical to his, albeit the size fits her better. He takes a second glance to the other party-goers. Reyes and Morrison, still on the couch, are wearing matching sweaters with crooked Christmas tree patterns. Reyes’ sweater has a sleeve that’s longer than the other, and Morrison has to pull his down every few minutes to cover his undershirt. Sojourn’s sweater has a neck piece that keeps sliding down while Torbjörn is practically swimming in his sweater. Then there’s Reinhardt. His sweater is so tight on him that it looks more like a midriff. Even Angela is wearing one, with the brightest shade of orange he’s ever seen and an angel centerpiece that has a goofy grin.

He looks back at his own sweater.

Oh God.

“Don’t worry,” Ana says, “you’ll grow into it.”

Fareeha playfully nudges his arm, “Merry Christmas, Jesse. Welcome to the family.”

-------

“You should come.”

Genji sits in front of the few windows in Blackwatch HQ, a winter wonderland behind the cool glass. He glances over his shoulder at McCree, who is wearing a red knitted sweater beneath his coat and holding a wrapped gift.

“You look ridiculous,” Genji says.

McCree chuckles, “Tis the season for ugly sweaters, partner.”

Genji rolls his eyes and silently returns to his gazing out the window. Normally, McCree takes this passive aggressive gesture as his cue to give up. But not tonight. Never tonight. He walks closer, keeping the present tucked under his arm, and stares out at the swirling flakes descending upon the outskirts of the base.

“Real pretty, isn’t it?” McCree says. “It’s like something out of a greeting card.”

“Don’t you have a party to go to?” Genji glares daggers while speaking in a flat tone.

McCree raises an eyebrow, “You know, I was where you were. First time I went to the old man’s party, practically had to be dragged there by Reyes.”

“Let me guess, you went to the party and discovered that the magic of Christmas was inside you all along?” Genji asks sarcastically.

He snorts, “Hell no. But I had a nice time. And you might too, if you give it a shot. There’s a lot of folks there who would be happy to see you.”

“Such as?”

“That new recruit Oxton, Captain Amari, Angie…”

Genji sighs, “Why are you so insistent? Did you all put up a bet to see who could pester me enough to go?”

“Oh Reyes tried, but nobody was up for it,” McCree casually says with a shrug and a laugh. He notices Genji huddle closer to the window before continuing in a calmer tone, “No, but seriously, no bullshit this time. I wasn't put up to this. I’m inviting you because, frankly partner, nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

Genji goes quiet, he slowly shifts his gaze down the window.

McCree turns to leave, “Welp, I’ll text you the address if you change your mind. See you later.”

He reaches the door and lifts his hand to the console.

“Wait.”

McCree pauses. He turns back around. Genji looks at him from across the room, his expression unreadable.

Genji lets out one more defeated sigh, “I don’t know where my jacket is.”

McCree grins, “I have an extra. You can borrow it.”

“Thank you, McCree.”

“Merry Christmas, Genji.”

[beanfic]

Summertime Sadness - Ch.21

Word count: 1213

Warnings: Angst, sadness, fluff

Author’s note: The last chapter! Thank you all for the support through this entire series! I think I really grew with my writing, and this was my largest project yet! I really hope you enjoy!

Song Suggestion: Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran

“I love you too, Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Josh’s voice was soft, and he placed little kisses all over your bare shoulder. 

“I’m so sleepy,” you yawned.

“Me too, let’s sleep in the car.” Josh stood up and threw on a t-shirt and basketball shorts he had packed in his car. 

“I don’t have any clothes besides for my dress,” you said as you wrapped yourself in a blanket. 

“I came prepared.” Josh shuffled around in his Jeep before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. He handed you them, and you threw them on. They smelled like Josh, and you were hoping he would let you keep them after he left to Washington. 

Josh laid down the back seats and created a little bed with pillows and blankets so you both could sleep in the back and be comfortable. You both got tucked in, and you nuzzled under Josh’s shoulder. 

“I can’t believe you leave tomorrow,” you mumbled. You started to think back on the summer. Good memories and bad memories. 

You had no idea that the boy you met at a party would impact your life so much.

You had no idea that an older boy with gauges and tattoos could hurt you so much, yet make you fall in love so quickly and deeply. 

You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Josh, and you wanted to help him and support him through everything.

“Y/N, why are you crying?” Josh asked when he noticed teardrops falling on his chest. 

“I’m going to miss you, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me too, but I promise everything will be okay. We can facetime, we can call, and I’ll be home for the holidays.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?”

“I promise, Y/N, I love you and only you.”

“I love you, even more, Joshua.” You closed your eyes and the next thing you knew you were sleeping on a snoring Josh. 

     *      *     *     *     *     *

“Good morning my love,” Josh whispered into your ear. You opened your eyes, being blinded by the sunlight.

“Josh?” you looked around trying to remember where you were, and the memories of last night came back to you. “Josh.”

“I’m right here, my love.”

“I could get used to that,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“My love! I like when you call me that,” you told him. You sat up more, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and fixing your hair that had fallen out. 

“You’re always going to be my love,” he kissed your forehead. “We need to get going though, I need to leave by noon. It’s going to be a long few days of driving.”

“I wish I could come with you,” you mumbled, knowing that there was no way and that these were your last few hours with him. 

“I know, but we are going to go back to my house first to finish packing the stuff I haven’t shipped there, and then I’ll drop you off at your house.”

“Okay,” you said sadly. You really did not want to let him go, but there was nothing you could do. The road trip back to his house was spent with you belting out Awolnation, and giving Josh his own little concert.

“I don’t think I’ve ever sung that loud before,” you yelled over the music.

“You’re such a good singer, I really think that you should Tyler’s place in the band.”

“Speaking of the band, what’s going to happen with that?”

Josh shrugged, “He is still going to write music and we are going to try to make it work.”

“That’s good because the band is getting so big! Maybe one day you will be so famous that you get noticed in public places! Or people will make fan accounts of you and stuff!”

“That sounds horrible, plus I don’t want people stalking every move I do.”

“Maybe people will write fanfiction about you,” you giggled.

“Oh god, I don’t even want to think about that.” Josh grabbed your hand and he held it all the way back to his apartment. He parked his jeep and you helped him take in the blankets and pillows so there was enough room for his boxes and suitcases. 

You helped him pack up the last of his clothes. He had already shipped kitchen essentials as well as bedding and stuff like that. He was moving into an already furnished apartment so he didn’t need too much. 

“Is it weird going to college for the first time being so old?” you asked while you packed his toiletries.

“Not really, I wanted some gap years to figure myself out.”

“I’m glad you did.”

You and Josh brought out each box and suitcase one by one until his Jeep couldn’t hold anymore. You climbed into the passenger seat and watched Josh lock the front door to his apartment. 

The car ride to your house was spent with you holding in your tears, and Josh rubbing his thumb over your hand that he was holding tight. He pulled in front of your house and you both looked at each other. 

He grabbed your face and gave you one last long passionate kiss. The last one for a while. When he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours, and you both stayed like that for a few seconds. 

“I love you, Dun,” you whispered.

“I love you too, Y/L/N.”

“I’m going to miss you, so much.”

“I’ll miss you more.”

“Impossible,” you smiled. You looked up into his big brown eyes. You studied his face, just so that you wouldn’t forget it. You focused on his soft lips, and his nose ring, and his wrinkles next to his eyes when he smiled. 

You opened the door and hopped out. You closed the door and walked to your door before turning around, and blowing a kiss to Josh. He pretended to catch it and bring it to his heart. 

“Bye, Y/L/N,” he waved as he started his jeep and started to drive away. 

“Goodbye, Joshua.” Your vision became blurry as the Jeep got smaller and smaller. Once you couldn’t see it anymore, your world felt like it stopped. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach, and it was hard to catch your breath. “Goodbye.”

Your heart ached, not like when it felt broken from earlier in the summer, but a different type of ache. One where it felt like it could still function, but was missing something so it wasn’t functioning fully. It felt empty, yet heavier. 

You walked inside your house and ignored your family asking if you were okay. You were numb, and the world was moving slowly as if it was a few frames behind. You laid on your bed and looked up at your ceiling. Your phone buzzed and you grabbed to see you got a text from Josh already. 

I miss you already. Just like how the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.

You held your phone next to your chest and breathed in heavily. You had already started counting down the days until you saw Josh again.

The End.

----------------------

tag list: @takenvysleep @ohprettyweeper @oncemorewithfeelingg @gaiatheroyalrabbit @svintsandghosts @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @patdsinner33 @breadbinishigh @demonsdontcontrolus

[chelswriting]

A Date?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Sister!Henderson

Words: 1,720

Forever Tag List: @missmotherhen

Author’s Note: I really love Steve from Stranger Things. If you haven’t watched Stranger Things, go do that. This takes place a few weeks after the end of the second season so some spoilers if you haven’t watched it. I hope you all like this and don’t forget that request are open! – Haley xx

“Hey,” I felt someone tapping my face. I groaned and cracked one eye open, “Y/N, we got stuff to do, you can’t sleep all day.” It was my little shit of a brother, Dustin.

“Go away,” I said and pushed his hand away. “It’s Sunday.”

“Exactly,” Dustin exclaimed. “You promised mom you would take me to the skating rink!”

I groaned again. “Dustin, no, I’m sleeping,” I said, snuggling up in my blanket. Dustin dramatically flopped his body across mine, getting his curly hair into my face. “You’re such a brat. Fine.”

Dustin laughed and sat up. “We’re meeting everyone there at noon.”

I sat up and grabbed my glasses from my nightstand. “Why so early?”

“Ms. Byers doesn’t want Will out at night without her,” Dustin explained. He jumped up and walked over to my bedroom door, “hurry up, Y/N!”

I rolled my eyes as Dustin left and climbed out of bed. I have been roped in with this monster killing business since Will Byers was taken last year. While Dustin and his friends went off with Eleven to Hawkins Middle School, Jonathan Byers asked me to help him and Nancy kill the Demogorgon at his house and of course, Steve had to stick his nose in.

But this time around, Steve was not an actual pain in the ass like before. Dustin explained to me that a smaller Demogorgon – demo-dog as he likes to call it – got out and we needed to kill it. Steve still had that baseball bat with the nails driven into it in his car and helped Dustin and I lure it out. Steve and I ended up being babysitters the rest of the time to some little shit children, but everything turned out to be okay.

It was now Christmas break and Dustin and his friends had made plans to meet up at the skating rink. Ms. Byers not wanting Will out at night without her was the reason that all of their hangouts have been either at the Byers house or in the middle of town, in the middle of the day, with some supervision. And today that was me. Not only did I promise our mom I would take Dustin, but I also promise Joyce I would always watch out for Will whenever he was with me.

I changed into today’s clothes and bounced my way into the kitchen. Mom was at work so all I heard was Dustin talking to one of his friends over the radio instead of my mom’s cheerful good morning! “Can we go already?” Dustin asked.

“I’m eating breaking, Dustin,” I pointed out. “It’s not even eleven yet, so calm down.”

I glanced over my shoulder and watch Dustin roll his eyes and talk into his headset again. “My sister is dragging me down.”

“I heard that!” I said and grabbed some cereal.

“You know who listens to good music?” Dustin said as we pulled into the skating rink parking lot.

I gripped the steering wheel tight. The entire ride over here, Dustin just blabbed about Steve. I know Dustin was star struck by him and really looked up to him, but talking about Steve Harrington all the time was annoying. “I swear to God, Dustin if you say St-“ I started to say.

“Steve.”

I jerked the car into a parking spot and Dustin went forward in his seat. “Stop talking about him,” I said.

“You’re rude, you know that,” Dustin said and climbed out of the car. I watch him rush across the parking lot over to where Lucas and Mike were at. I sighed and got out of the car as well.

I cupped my hands and called to them, “Hey dipshits, get in the building. It’s freezing outside!”

Dustin turned around and flipped me off before him and his friends took off inside. I pulled my coat closer to me and leaned against the car door. I glanced around the parking lot and noticed that the car that Lucas and Mike were standing at was Jonathan Byers car, which meant that he probably picked them up and brought them here. Which also probably meant that Nancy was with him.

I felt sad for Steve when he told me that him and Nancy were no longer a thing. “I’m a pretty shit boyfriend,” I remembered Steve saying.

“You’re not a shit boyfriend, Steve. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

I have known Steve since Kindergarten and Steve was not a shit person. He could sometimes be a lot to handle and his friends last year, Tommy and Carol were pure jerks, but Steve was a good person when you got to know him. He also had some of the best hair of our senior year.

I got off the car and ran up the steps to the staking rink. Going inside, my glasses fogged up, but I could hear Dustin. I followed his lispy voice over to the dining area. “Y/N, over here!” Dustin called. I could see the blurry outline of him and someone else at a booth, “sit with us.”

I plopped down next to that someone and took my glasses off to clean them. When I put them back on, I noticed I was next to Steve with Dustin in front of me. “Steve, why are you here?” I asked him.

“The little shit invited me,” Steve said, pointing at Dustin.

I narrowed my eyes at my brother and he just shrugged. “Y/N, you’re going to be all alone while me and everyone skates,” Dustin pointed out. “I thought you could use some company.”

“Dustin, I know you love Steve, but you gotta leave the poor guy alone,” I said.

A flash of disgust went over Dustin’s face. “I’m going to skate. You two have fun,” Dustin gave his purr before bolting out of the booth and over to his friends.

“I’m sorry I have an annoying brother,” I said to Steve. “He shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I like the dipshit,” Steve said. “Plus, I really don’t have anything else to do today.” I nodded. “So…,” he started, “do you not like to skate?”

I chuckled. “It’s fine to do, but I hate skating by myself. I’m completely awful and I always run into the other skaters. Whenever I’m here with my friends, I have to hold onto someone to make sure I don’t skate into people. What about you?”

Steve shrugged. He opened up his mouth to say something but fell flat. I saw that he was staring at something and moved my eyes to see what. My heart sank when I saw Nancy and Jonathan snuggled up in a booth across the dining area.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Steve, do you want to go skate?”

Steve did not answer so I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Huh?” he blinked.

“I asked if you wanted to go skate?”

Steve looked back at them before looking at me. “Sure.”

We slid out of the booth and over to the counter where the skates were at. We both paid for out skates and then went to the benches next to the rink. I quickly changed from my sneakers to the roller skates. I watch Steve fumble with the laces of the skates before finally getting everything tied. I stood up and held out my hand. “C’mon.”

Steve grabbed my hand with his and I helped him up. We held onto each other as we stepped out onto the rink. “What are you doing?” Dustin asked as he skated passed me.

“Having a fun time,” I answered him.

“With Steve?” Mike asked as he skated between us, breaking Steve and me apart.

“How are we supposed to make sure you shits don’t do something stupid,” Steve said, “if we’re all the way over there?”

“Yeah, but –,” Dustin started.

“No buts,” I said to him. “I have to watch you and I am.”

“With Steve on your arm,” Mike pointed out.

The tips of my ears burned. “Go away,” I said to Mike.

Still apart, I skated ahead of Steve, which was a bad idea because I lost my balance and started falling back. I felt hands on my waist and heard, “Geez, you weren’t lying,” in my ear.

Steve kept his hands on my waist as I got my footing back. “I told you. I’m a bad skater.”

“Good thing you’ve got me,” Steve grinned. I smiled up at him.

We skated a few times around the rink when I noticed that Steve still had one hand on my waist. We skated passed the boys and I noticed that all four of them gave Steve and I thumbs up and Dustin purred. I realized what was going on and stopped skating causing Steve to almost run into the people in front of us.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Steve asked.

“I know what Dustin’s been doing this entire time – what all the boys have been doing. Oh my God,” I said, my face turning hot. “Steve. I think they’re trying to set us up.”

“What?” Steve asked before looking over at my little brother.

“On the way over here, Dustin wouldn’t shut up about you. He invited you here, so I wouldn’t be so alone, and now we’re skating together. That little shit!”

Steve looked back at me and I could see that the tips of his ears were bright red. “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, right?” Steve mumbled.

“Of course not, Steve,” I whispered. “It’s just that… you’ve been through a lot these last few weeks…”

“That didn’t stop her,” Steve pointed out.

“Ask her out!” Dustin called from behind us.

“Ask her on a date!” Will yelled.

“Ask her to be your girlfriend!” Lucas yelled.

Steve and I turned around and waited for Mike to yell out what Steve should do. The boys skated passed us and Mike shrugged. “What? Just ask her on a date.”

“A date?” Steve asked, turning towards me causing me to laugh out loud. Blush spread over his nose and cheeks when he realized what he had said. “Y/N, would you like to go out with me tonight?”

“That would be amazing, Steve,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his warm cheek.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Fireproof” - Part 3

“Fireproof” - Part 3

( Part 1 / Part 2 )

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,700

Key: Y/N = Your Name, Y/L/N = Your Last Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Minor Injury. I think that’s all. If I miss anything, please let me know!

Summary: After a genetic mutation showed itself about 5 years ago, you became a Kingsman and worked alongside some of the best agents: Your father, Merlin, Roxy, and Eggsy. When you are assigned a mission with Eggsy, things flare up.

Author’s Note: So this is my first Kingsman fic. I had this idea at 2AM when I was working on packing up my stuff for moving. I know it’s a bit out there, but I hope you give it a chance.

Shoutout to @the-witching-hours12-3 for being herself and helping me out! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

It had started with a few light whimpers that Eggsy could barely hear through the doors, but it progressed quickly into crying and screaming. At that point, he grabbed a water bottle that he had nearby for this situation, and barged into your room to help.

When he came in, he saw you curled into a ball, crying and repeating the words “I’m so sorry.” Your once (Y/H/C) locks were now covered in flames that licked and snapped in the air around you. He dropped the water bottle near his feet and he knelt on the edge of your bed. His first task was to get you uncurled and try to get you to wake up.

Getting you to lay out was surprisingly easier than he anticipated. He grabbed your biceps and tried to lightly shake you, hoping that that would be all it took. Merlin was true to his word when he said that your flames wouldn’t hurt anyone but yourself in this type of scenario. The flames would brush against his hands on your arm and he wouldn’t feel anything. But there was no time to dwell on that right now; he needed you to wake up and get you out of whatever hellscape you were painting in your head.

He tightened his grip on your arm and shook you a bit harder.

“(Y/N/N)! Please wake up, sweetheart!”

Eggsy was watching your face with such worry. He knew you were strong, so seeing you crying and looking so broken made his heart ache. It only took another good shake for your eyes to shoot open. Eggsy took his hands off and backed away when he felt a little bit of heat by his leg. Looking back at you, there were two flames taking up your hands.

You shot up and brought your hands to your chest, hunching down over them, trying to smush them out. It worked, but because of your panicked mindset, you weren’t thinking about protecting yourself. So you ended up burning yourself right underneath your collar bone. You let out a painful cry. As you did, your hair slowly faded back to its original (Y/H/C) color, and Eggsy took a step closer.

“No! Stop! I don’t want to hurt you!” You looked at him with blurry eyes and a few tears racing down your cheeks. Eggsy held up his hands and took one more step towards you as he spoke.

“You’re not going to hurt me, luv.” He took another step, but then knelt down to grab the water bottle near your bed. Getting back up slowly, he held it in his hand and waited for you to calm down enough to let him closer.

“Focus on breathin’ first, alright (Y/N/N)?” You nod in response.

You take a minute to stop hyperventilating. Thank god for Roxy’s tips that she engrained in your head a few months ago. Once you start breathing a bit better, you swing your legs over the side of your bed and sit there with your head in your hands. Eggsy knew that you were okay enough for him to get closer now, so he slowly sat next to you on your bed, trying not to startle you. He then took the water bottle he had brought and undid the top. He put a soft hand on your back and rubbed a few small circles.

“That’s it. Good girl, (Y/N/N).” He kept rubbing your back gently until you told him otherwise. As he was doing that, you spoke.

“I’m sorry, Eggsy. You shouldn’t have had to--” your voice was just a tad raspy from the screaming and crying of your nightmare.

“No. Do not start that shit. You have nothin’ to apologize for. Merlin told me what to do if somethin’ like this happened while he was gone. And I care about you too much to just sit by if this stuff is happenin’. Now, drink some of this while I go get a first aid kit for those burns, yeah?”

You just sat there and nodded. Taking the bottle from Eggsy, your hands were shaking, making it difficult to hold it up to your mouth. But you did and ended up drinking about half of the bottle by the time Eggsy came back with the medical kit. He sat down on your bed again and turned to face you as he opened the kit and got the supplies he would need out of there: a type of ointment and some bandage dressings. You slowly put one of your legs up on the bed and turned to face him. Knowing where your new burns were, you had to take off your top for him to have easy access to them. Thank god you were wearing a sports bra to bed.

As Eggsy took care of the two fist sized burns on your chest, he broke the silence.

“How long have you had this ability with fire?” You honestly had to think about that one. These past years with Kingsman have all kind of blurred together.

“About 5 years. Happened and then I joined Kingsman.” You paused, debating on telling this next part to Eggsy or not. He knew so much about you, and you trusted him; why hold back? “I almost left about 3 years ago.”

“To where?” Eggsy was thankful you didn’t leave, but he couldn’t help but be curious. You leaned over and grabbed a folder that was in your dresser drawer and handing it to him. He looked at you confused and then opened it.

“Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters? Isn’t that where--” You interrupted him before he could start going on about the X-Men.

You met with them as soon as Charles Xavier found you through cerebro and came across the pond to talk to you and your father. You didn’t feel comfortable leaving and moving to the United States by yourself without getting a tighter grip on your mutation or “gift” as Charles has said.

“Are you takin’ a fuckin’ piss?! What made you say no to them?” Eggsy was invested in this conversation, but also went back to finishing up your bandages.

“I still wasn’t doing that great in the mental health department, and knew that if I moved to a different continent away from my family, it would have gone tits up real quick, even with whatever other mutants they have there.” Eggsy secured the last bandage and held one of your hands while flipping through some of the information in the folder.

“Are you still thinkin’ about goin’ there?” He quickly realized that he may have sounded like he wanted you to leave. “Not that I want you to go. It’s just that lookin’ through these papers, I can see how much this could help you. Just learnin’ about that life and knowin’ that you’re not alone, not to mention the possibilities for learning how to control your powers. It could be life changing, (Y/N/N).”

You just looked down at your hand in his, he was watching you to make sure he hadn’t said anything to upset you. You just chuckled and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about givin’ Charles a call a couple of times. But then I think about my dad. He would be on edge and probably more of a dickhead to you all if I added that stress on him right now. And I don’t think I’m ready for that big of a move. Plus, what would you do without me?” You gave him a small but true smile, which he gladly returned with that smile of his that made your heart flutter.

“I haven’t got a clue what I would do without your beautiful smile in my life, luv.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your cheeks. There is a bit of a silence while you take another sip of water. Eggsy pats your hand and then releases it, kissing the top of your head as he starts to get up.

“It’s late, (Y/N/N). We should be gettin’ some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning before we--” He stood up, but then you grabbed his hand again, not letting him go any further.

“Can you… Um… Can you stay?” He looked at you with a bit of surprise written on his face. “I mean- You don’t have to. I was just wondering cause I don’t want to have this happen again and wake you up and have you do this all over--” He sat down again and shushed you.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, sweetheart, I’ll stay.” You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and look down shyly. He leans forward and kisses your head again before standing up.

“I don’t know which side you like. So you tell me where to go, yeah?” You nod and then begin getting back under the comforter.

You shimmy onto your usual side of the bed and you felt the mattress dip as Eggsy took the unoccupied space next to you. You laid on your side and Eggsy naturally draped an arm around your middle. As soon as he did, he lifted it up a bit and leaned towards you.

“Is this alright?” You smiled at his tenderness and noded. He then puts his arm back there put doesn’t force you to move closer to him or anything. You actually lean back into him a bit, trying to get him to realize that you actually wanted to be close to him. He got the hint and pulled you closer to him, your back against his comfortably warm chest.You could get lost in this feeling forever. Being this close to him and seeing him really care about you made your love for him grow even though you thought that wasn’t possible.

“Goodnight, Eggsy.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” You could feel him lightly chuckle before responding.

You let out a contented sigh, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. Before you do fall asleep, you feel Eggsy place a kiss on the back of your head. He must have felt your breathing even out and thought that you were asleep and therefore unable to hear him because what you heard next made your heart swell.

“I promise I will always be there to help you whenever you need me, sweetheart. I love you, (Y/N/N).”

Tags: @the-witching-hours12-3 @theeactress @undersoilxnddirt @juggernaut-jones @eggsyunwinftw @boundtomyfate @grippleback-galaxy

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Point of No Return: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,914

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Instead of letting him do that, you let him get cleaned up so that he doesn’t have dirt stuck to his face and clothes. After clean clothes, a glass of water, and a shower, he’s ready to talk about what happened to him.

“Why don't you just tell us everything? Start from the beginning,” Dean orders.

“Well, I was dead and in Heaven. Except it kinda looked like my prom, and I was making out with this girl. Her name was Kristin McGee—”

“Yeah, that sounds like heaven. Did you get to third base?” Dean chuckles.

You look at him from over your shoulder, and as soon as he sees the look in your eyes, he shuts up.

“Well, these… these angels pop out of nowhere, and they tell me that I—I'm chosen.”

“For what?”

“To save the world.”

“How you gonna do that?” Sam inquires.

“Oh, me and some archangel are going to kill the devil,” Adam shrugs.

“What archangel?” Dean butts in.

“Michael. I'm his uh, sword or vessel or something, I don't know.”

“Well, that’s insane,” Dean shrugs.

“Not necessarily,” you say. “Adam may be younger than Sam, but he’s still his brother. He’s still John’s kid, so I guess Adam is the angels’ loophole.”

“She’s right, it’s not perfect, but it’s possible,” Castiel agrees.

“Well, you gotta be kidding me,” Dean scoffs.

“Why would they do this?” your father asks.

“Maybe they're desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them,” Castiel thinks out loud.

“Alright, you know what? Blow me, Cas,” Dean glares.

“Look, no way. After everything that's happened? All that shit about destiny? Suddenly the angels have a Plan B? Does that smell right to anybody?” Sam questions their intentions.

“Sam’s right about this. I don’t feel strong about this at all,” you give your input.

“You know this has been a really moving family reunion, but uh, I got a thing, so—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, no, no, no. Sit down,” Sam cuts off Adam as he tries to get off the couch. “Just listen, okay? Please.”

“It's unbelievable. How can you expect me to listen to you right now?”

“Adam, the angels are lying to you. They’re full of shit. I can sense these things. I’m a witch, and this isn’t sitting right with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Really. Why not?”

“Um, 'cause they're angels?” he scoffs.

“They tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?” Sam asks.

“They said the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the devil, right? So we got to stop him.”

“Yeah, but there's another way.”

“Great. What is it?”

“We're working on ‘the power of love’.” Dean says sarcastically.

“How's that going?”

“Mmm. Not good.”

“Look, Adam… you don't know me from a hole in the wall, but I'm begging you. Please, just trust me. Give me some time.”

“Give me one good reason,” Adam says, and waits.

“Because we're blood,” Sam finally answers.

“You've got no right to say that to me,” the younger brother glares.

“You're still John's boy,” your father says.

“No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I don't have a dad. So, we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family. If I do my job, I get to see her again. So, no offense, but she's the one I give a rat's ass about, not you four.”

“Fair enough, but if you have one good memory of dad—just one—then you'll give us a little more time. Please,” Sam begs.

All Adam can do is sigh, but that sigh told everyone that he’s willing to give Sam just a little extra time.

“Dean, please talk to me. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” you ask.

He’s been ignoring you ever since you and Sam got him from his motel room. He refuses to talk to you, and it’s getting really annoying. He has to crack sometime, and you’d rather it come sooner rather than later.

“Dean, I know you’re upset, but ignoring me isn’t going to make this situation go away. You’re going to have to talk to me eventually,” you try again.

He’s getting your father’s panic room set up for him to stay there since Dean needs to keep him on suicide watch. Neither Adam nor Dean will be giving their bodies up for the archangel. He stacks some books on the small table inside and turns on the lamp. He doesn’t read, but if he’s going to be stuck in here by himself, then he might want a book or two. On a normal day, you would be stuck in here with him, but there is no way he’s letting that happen. He’s acting like if he looks at you, he’ll hurl.

“Dean! Please say something!”

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I’m pissed? That you made the biggest mistake of your life? That you took something from me without asking? I think you already know that,” he scoffs.

“It’s not like I did it to hurt you. You know that was never my intention.”

“Yeah, well, you got it.”

“How are we going to fix this? You want to make another child? We can do that easily, you know.”

“Why would I want a child with someone who doesn’t even want one?”

“I never said that. All I said is that I don’t want to raise a child in this life right now. I don’t want my kids being hunters.”

“You’re a fucking witch, Y/N. You’re always going to be involved! It’s either you have kids now or you’ll never have them. It’s not like you’re going to give up your powers like your mom did. You love being a witch too much. No, there’s a much bigger reason as to why you got rid of our child like it was trash. There is something you’re not telling me. If there is, better tell me now.”

“There isn’t, I swear,” you said.

It was half the truth. There is another reason why you don’t want kids in this lifetime or in this life. Amara will make your kids her vessel and use them like she’s using you. If you don’t have kids, then she can die with you. You’re not letting your kids have that life being pushed on them. As soon as your first child is born, Amara will have another person she can torment. You’re not letting that happen.

“Like I believe you,” he scoffs.

“Dean, please,” you beg.

“At least Lisa didn’t kill my child,” he mutters.

You may be standing by the door, but his voice travels throughout the room. You heard what he said, and it shatters your heart into a million pieces. If he’s already comparing you to his other baby mama, then you are in big trouble. Tears stream down your cheeks as you fled the room, and you wouldn't have bumped into Castiel and Sam on your way out if it wasn’t for your blurry vision. Sam moved out of the way so you can race up the stairs.

“Dean, what did you do?” Sam asks.

“Just told her the truth,” he shrugs.

Without thinking, you ran straight toward your dad and fell into his arms. He caught you without a second thought, and let you use his shoulder to cry on. Adam is eating in the kitchen, and he looks up at your intrusion. He decides to stay out of it, but he's close enough to hear what you have to say.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob.

“I know you are,” your dad whispers, already knowing what you’re sorry for.

“I’m sorry for murdering your grandchild,” you hiccup and get off him to give him some space.

You move from his lap to the chair across from him.

“I know why you did it.”

“I knew there would come a time where something might matter more than a mission or a hunt, but I didn’t think it would come so soon. Plus, I can’t let her win.”

“Who win?”

“Her! Amara! My mother was a vessel for her. Her mother was one too. What kind of mother would I be if I sentenced my kid’s life to that?”

“They didn’t know about Amara and/or the bloodline thing,” he sighs.

“But I do. She’s going to do to my child what she’s doing to me. Dean isn’t a witch, so who knows if my kids will have powers. If they don’t, then how will they protect themselves against her? Lucifer? Every other fucking monster out there?” you shout.

“The same way Sam and Dean do. They don’t have magical powers to help them. I never had that. John didn't either.”

“Yeah, well, look where that got him and you. No offense,” you scoff, motioning to his wheelchair.

“All I’m saying is that you’re a lot stronger than you know. And I know my daughter isn’t going to leave her kids defenseless. When and if you decide to have kids, you’ll do a great job. You both will because I know the kind of person you are. It shouldn’t matter what’s out there. All that matters is family.”

“I really wish I can see it that way, but I can’t,” you whisper.

“You will one day. Let me tell you one thing. Your mother having you? Best decision she ever made,” he smiles.

“Thanks, dad,” you give a small smile back.

Footsteps come from behind you, and you turn your head to see Sam jogging up the stairs.

“How’s he doing?” your dad asks.

“How are you doing?” Sam asks after giving a shrug in response to your dad’s question.

“Peachy, Sam. Just peachy,” you say sarcastically.

“What about you?”

“Hanging in there,” Sam answers truthfully.

Now that Dean is locked up and Adam is safe for now, all there is left to do is wait until a better idea pops into someone’s head. Until then, you could use some rest.

That poor, dumb angel. You knew it was a bad idea to let him go downstairs and check on Dean. You had a bad feeling about Dean, and knew he was up to something bad. That’s when Castiel offered to check up on your boyfriend. However, he never returned. When you and Sam went to go check on him, the panic room door was wide open, both men were gone, and an angel banishing symbol was drawn on the wall with Dean’s blood.

“Where’s Cas?” your dad asks when you and Sam return back upstairs.

“Blown to Oz. Look, Y/N and I will get Dean. He couldn’t have gone too far. Just watch Adam.”

“How? You may have noticed, but he’s got a slight height advantage.”

“Then cuff him to your chair. I don’t know. Just watch him,” Sam shrugs.

“Wait, why do I have to go? You sound like you can handle it on your own,” you chuckle nervously.

“Y/N, you’re coming. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Fine,” you sigh deeply and leave with the younger brother. 

Either you’re going to find Dean and he’s going to hate you for trying to rescue him, or you’re not going to find him because he’s already given his body to the archangel. Whatever the case may be, it won’t turn out well for either of you.

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[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Houseki no Kuni 3 - 6 | Girls’ Last Tour 3 - 6 | Boueibu OVA | Netjuu no Susume 6 | Juuni Taisen 7 | Mahoutsukai no Yome 6

Apparently there’s a bonus if you watch until the end of the 5th ep of Netjuu no Susume…I’ve seen it, or else I wouldn’t be telling you it exists.

I’ve rolled out the simulcast commentary tags for the seasonal shows that don’t have tags yet (aside from Netjuu no Susume’s replacement when that time comes).

Plus, as you can see in the title…there’s the Boueibu OVA in this bundle of notes, for completion’s sake.

Houseki no Kuni 3

That snail sure is a lively thing.

Really? A poop joke? Well, that’s one way to rub Phos’s new state into Dia’s face.

…welp, not much to talk about this time, I guess.

Houseki no Kuni 4

What the heck? The snail has a type???

This OP is lovely. Its best aspect is the visuals, though. It sounds kind of plain compared to even Saturday Night Question (Netjuu no Susume).

That snail makes a nice wig for Master Kongo, doesn’t it?

I’m listening to this show for the first time, and Phos uses “boku”, interestingly enough.

The snail's urge to go back to its home in the sea reminds me that lots of Chinese people go back to their country for Chinese New Year. I wonder if the same sentiment is involved in both instances?

The ED is nice, but not as good as the OP.

Houseki no Kuni  5

Watermelon? I feel sorry for the gem which has that name.

Ahh! These jellyfish are cute (and practical)!

“No getting all weak-kneed now!” – Says Phos, who’s got legs potentially harder than their body.

Houseki no Kuni 6

Trust exercises. I did some with some members of my anime club once. (Haha.)

I noticed the spikes were blue, so they might be Sapphire. It’s kind of like Rabbit’s necromantistry (Juuni Taisen), but…in a slightly different form.

Girls’ Last Tour 3

Kanazawa???? *thinks about King’s Game, where the protag and the author share the surname Kanazawa*

There’s some extremely glaring CGI during this episode. For a moment, you can discern Chi’s made of CGI while in her Kettenkrad.

Please don’t ship the grown man with the loli.

That’s some grim humour they attempted with Kanazawa. Kinda like Zetsubou-sensei (Nozomu Itoshiki).

Boueibu OVA

I almost wasn’t going to cover this, because it’s an OVA, but hey, why not make an exception? This may be the last time we Boueibu fans can talk about this stuff again…(Plus I think I’ll have volume for the entire thing if I hurry.)

Haha, the volleyball scene. Notice En talks first.

Yumoto’s being basic as always. *sighs happily*

Trump, eh? The word for playing cards is trump, but…y’know?

(about “graduating in a storm of cherry blossoms” and En saying it sounds lonely) I was just about to say that, En. However, that may just be OVA feels speaking.

Itsumo Ichiban? Rememer that guy? Well, there’s Itsumo’s brother on Kin-chan’s list. You can tell because he’s literally Itsumo Nisan. Geddit?

(about Zundar’s meeting with Kin-chan) The manga! It was correct after all!

Yep, that’s exactly how it went 2 years ago. In fact, I think it might be recycled content…(?)

Wombat speaks very formally. I learnt about keigo in the past year so I only picked up on that this time around.

The word used by Aki is “sad” according to the subs, but hazukashii means “embarrassing”, which puts a new spin on it.

They’re literally just using montages of s1, which is why I want Pony Canyon to bundle the OVA with s2. It’s more money, but for the consumer, it’s more worth it. However…having Bi…Egoism in an anime segment at all is new.

Akoya must be popular in the fandom. Either that or the staff are acknowledging how unloved he is.

Yay! It’s Star the VEPPer!

It’s good that each of these side characters is getting their own montage. Plus we’re getting official translations of the character songs, which is the best thing you can get for free when character songs aren’t distributed normally in most cases.

4th wall breaking! I guess you never expected that, eh? (Actually, you probably did, considering it’s been a montage for almost everyone now.)

(I love En’s little snarks in the middle of the song.) The only one left after this is Atsushi, right? Update: Oops, forgot Kin-chan. Sorry Kin-chan.

I never really realised Atsushi’s song was so hard rock compared to En’s more pop-like one.

“But do I really have that fire inside of me?” – I think I heard the song go atsui which is a real funky (in a good way) pun on Atsushi’s name.

Aww, they missed out in such a good pun! Haru went haru and Aki went aki. The translator didn’t pick up on that though…aww.

Whoa! Yumoto got all scary! Botan Yuzuru though…gotta look into that later for magicalgirlsandcerulean.

This (Spanish?) guitar reminds me of this track from The Dog Island.

A-ha! This is what you get when you translate the Japanese in the ads too.I was quite right indeed, although it really is the dang 132nd graduation ceremond.

It’s literally a button monster. Don’t wanna mash his buttons! (I bet you’re all groaning from my jokes, ahaha…)

Dadacha’s voice sounds kinda ridiculous now because Yasumoto is clearly using the deeper voice he normally uses for Zundar.

Notice the monster’s face is made from the character 高 (the first character in the Japanese word for “high school”).

Salty Sol is still salty after all this time…sad life.

That train station is the same one from the beach episode!

I’ve seen enough spoilers so I know where this is going…I already identified in the spoiler chat what Wombat is going to catch as a reference to a Kenji Miyazawa work.

This train is somewhat obviously CGI…

Spinach curry? When’d Wombat eat that?

Ths slideshow appears to be all the clean art for everything they’ve ever produced in the Boueibu canon! Even events and collabs!

“So wipe away your tears.” – I’m not crying, you are…*tear leaks from corner of eye*

I don’t recognise two of those pictures…(EnAtsu beach pic and a yukata one with the Defence Club on the roof.)

Oh…my…it’s over? Well, frankly I was expecting the fandom’s end in 2015…so, here’s to the future. Farewell, and remember: love is forever! Separations are only a new beginning!

Netjuu no Susume 6

That was a really bad Glico man in the back (of Koiwai)…

I think something’s wrong with my eye. It just gave off a few tears…(kidding tone)

Whose car is this that Morimori-chan is sitting in??? Update: It’s a taxi. Whoops.

I think Morimori-chan used the word douryou (colleagues, coworkers) instead of employees. The word for employees would probably be very different.

Nikunokiya??? (thinks about Kinokuniya)

(Koiwai goes Ai no chikara ne…) Boueibu reference…kind of.

Notice Koiwai said he was low on health in the text but he said zombie in the Japanese. That’s where Fruits de Mer comes in for Morimori-chan.

“There’s no way I’d say something like that!”

I think the cup this ED is new. Plus the headphones.

Oh! I spotted Morimori-chan with the medium length hair in the background of Sakurai’s bit of the ED.

There are some blurry pictures of Koiwai in the ED and they’re so hilarious!!!

So the ED actually evolves along with the show. Interesting.

Juuni Taisen 7

Rabbit stores his blades in his tail. That’s weird, but funny.

Literally, the episode title is “Dragon Head, Snake Tail”.

Dragon and Snake really are like the Beppus! I keep thinking that. I want a crossover fic now…

Tatsu = dragon.

I only just realised but…a naga is a snake. Nagayuki is the younger bro, isn’t he? Dangit, Nisio Isin! You bested me again.

150 doesn’t have any significance in regards to the number 12 now does it?

It’s Rabbit! Who’s not wearing his trademark booty shorts or high heels! Rabbit in a waiter’s outfit is really something, though.

“Hot guy”? Not by most people’s standards Tora/Kanae, considering he’s currently missing his head.

It’s tiger versus…aww. It’s not tiger vs dragon…

How can Ushii still talk after being strangled by Snake’s arm???

Whoa! Incendiary components are cool in Bond movies, but fiery liquid? That’s a step up!

Mahoutsukai no Yome 6

Admit it. You saw it in the next ep preview (unless you skipped it or read the manga)…It’s TITania time!

“She touched me for the first time.” – Elias, what a dork you are…

The birbs around Chise are so fluffy and adorable! It’s cute.

Geez, it really is TITania…these fanservice wiggles are destroying my Mahoutsukai no Yome experience…

Seing the Faerie Queen facepalm…is something else. *sweatdrops*

In the same way I want a koala sheep from Avatar the Last Airbender, I want one of those sheep bug things.

“Every creature of the night, including she and you, are my adorable little children.” – No wonder you have such big hooters, TITania…

A wild SIMON appeared!…Thought we’d forgotten about him for the rest of the episode. He would’ve made a better brick joke if his return were prolonged, y’know.

Strange question, but do priests wear pants?

Girls’ Last Tour 4

I’m listening to Ugoku Ugoku for the first time and it’s…strangely catchy…

That thing with the face is really creepy…

That thing is a stone statue???

“What IS cheese?” – Considering sometimes cheese tastes pretty bad, I don’t blame you for not knowing what cheese is.

Couldn’t they check the camera for what Kanazawa was doing with it?

I just saw the number 3230 on the camera’s inside frame for taking pictures (whatever you call it). That might be the year this show is set…

Notice the word for temple that’s used is jiin, a Buddhist temple. A Shinto version of that might be jinja.

Kanazawa was voiced by Akira Ishida? The guy who did Kiku (SGRS)??? NOOOOOOO! I missed a prime opportunity! I’ll have to go back for it later.

The ED is even more catchy than the OP. Is that even possible???

The camera breaks in the ED…that’s so ominous…

That post-ED scene was cute. A little bit.

Girls’ Last Tour 5

The slightly-electronic-sounding OP doesn’t quite fit the show, does it?

The phrase used was definitely ie dake ni. I’m not quite sure what that means, but…okay. I’ll just believe the subs on that one.

I wonder if Sentai is planning to dub these…I can imagine this show being dubbed.They wouldn’t need to pay too many VAs for it, for one thing.

Akogare is the word for desire or longing. It would be no surprise f there was an akogaru or akogarareru made from it as well.

Notice it’s “Yay!”, but with the word for house (ie) emphasised.

What is this fish dream, a metaphor for lesbians…?

The soundtrack guys must’ve had lots of fun striking cans or whatever.

I think this ED is different to the one last ep…Its name appears to be Amadare no Uta and it’s sung by the main VAs.

I bet the soundtrack guys hit a bell or two there…

Girls’ Last Tour 6

Oh no! It’s an Anime Scientist! Last time we had one, it was Shinawa (Kado), and you know how badly that went…

Interesting that the word for “takeoff” is “separation [from the] ground” literally.

Okay! I’m caught up to the weekly episodes now!