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sparkly-key · 1 year ago

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Uncontrolled descent

The bookshop was in flames. Aziraphale was gone. Killed. And Crowley couldn't see the sense of staying on Earth or the hope of fleeing to Alpha Centuri. So he goes to the end of the world, angry at Heaven and Hell for wanting their stupid war. Written for Day 4 of Whumptober 2023 - "I can see the danger. It's written there in your eyes."

Crowley stared at the legions of the infernal and the angelic - their members clashing on the Tadfield Airfield tarmac and in the air above it – from behind the wheel of the Bentley as he idled at the edge of the woods.

The end of the world.

He laughed bitterly, tipping his head back and upending the bottle of merlot into his gaping maw with no attention paid to the nectar that escaped his lips.

He should have run. Shoulda shoved the angel into the Bentley and fled to Alpha Centuri like he’d intended hours ago. Or 11 years ago, when this damned debacle had started.

Now they’d killed Aziraphale – Heaven or Hell, didn’t know which one, but damn them all and their bloody war - and he couldn’t even think about escaping Earth. Because what was the point if his angel wasn’t there with him?

Crowley finished the bottle with a gulp and thew it onto the passenger seat, hissing as it clattered against the small mountain of broken glass that littered the spot where Zira had sat the night before. His head pounded but the demon didn’t care enough to miracle away the ache. It wouldn’t matter soon in any case.

A column of lightning barreling down toward the tarmac caught his eye – a stark contrast to the few single licks that danced between the sky and ground as less skilled angels smote whatever demon they could target. No, this display of might practically had a signature and its maker was apparent as he beheld Sandalphon, his wings folding and fanning out expertly as Her executioner struck down his opponents with either the golden sword in his right hand or the precise finger he used to smite those unlucky enough to receive his target. His face alight with a sadistic satisfaction Crowley hadn’t seen since Sodom and Gomorrah.

“That’ll do it,” the demon slurred. He fumbled for the door handle, his lithe fingers pulling at it but finding no give as the Bentley refused to release him. “Let me out, you hunk of russssty metal.”

His car ignored him, revving its engine defiantly as it reversed toward the treeline to get him away from the battlefield. Crowley hissed, slamming his foot on the brake. The Bentley shuddered to a stop, trembling from the force of his ire.

“Either let me out or I’ll drive you there myself,” he demanded, his eyes stinging from unshed tears. “Can’t sssstand the thought of you ending up a twisted lump of ssscraps, not when there’s sssssome idiot mortal who can appreciate you properly before this all goes titssss up.”

His car, his second longest companion, sputtered indignantly at the thought of leaving him.

“’M doin’ thisssss, beautiful, can’t ssssstop me,” Crowley promised. “So you’re either gonna have to leave or drive sssssstraight for that sssadistic twat.”

The radio came on with a burst of static, the thin red line ricocheting from one end of the AM-FM spectrum until it came to rest in the center and music blared through the speakers.

Here we stand or here we fall

History won't care at all

Make the bed light the light

Lady mercy won't be home tonight yeah

The Bentley roared to life, slamming the redhead back against the driver’s seat as gas hit the floor and the pair careened off the incline toward the carnage.

Crowley’s lips twisted in proud smirk, just a hint of sorrow in his eyes as he reached for his spare glasses in the glove box. He slid the wiry frames up his nose and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Atta girl,” he whooped as they burst through barricade. The Bentley fishtailed, bodies of angels and demons colliding with its obsidian frame before the car straightened its course and peeled onto the tarmac – where Gabriel clashed with Beezelbub, their armies circling them in combat as if though they were gladiators in Rome.

It wasn’t Crowley’s plan, but he could improvise.

You don't waste no time at all

Don't hear the bell but you answer the call

It comes to you as to us all

We're just waiting

For the Hammer To Fall

The redhead snarled when a bolt struck them, ripping through the hood. He braced himself as the car flipped forward, cartwheeling grill to bumper until it slid to a stop on its roof. No music was heard, just the sound of a faintly sputtering engine.

Crowley grunted in pain from where he’d landed, the frame twisting around him like a cocoon. His corporation protested as the demon pat the crumpled dash fondly. “Knew I could count on you.”

I've taken my bows

And my curtain calls

You brought me fame and fortune

And everything that goes with it

I thank you all

The lyrics wheezed through the speakers as Crowley forced himself through the wreckage, ripped metal and jagged glass tearing his clothes and his flesh. He snarled as another bolt – not as strong as Sandalphon’s but still nothing to sneer at – struck the Bentley, silencing it completely while the impact slammed Crowley’s shoulder onto a piece of rebar twisting out of the door frame.

With his car hushed, he could hear the battle around him, the cries of fury and pain ringing out among the cacophony of metal clashing against metal and thunder echoing through the air between the cracks of lightning.

Gritting his teeth, the demon freed his shoulder first – biting his lip to contain the pained yell that threatened to escape – and then the rest of his body. He stood, leaning against Bentley as he took in the sight around him.

A scream of agony broke the air as blinding coil of lightening erupted less than 100 feet away and Crowley turned his golden gaze to the sky. Sandalphon was hovering with his back to the demon, his ivory wings beating steadily.

He pulled an engine crank from the wreckage of his car, the somehow unharmed metal cool in his hand. He ignored the pain in his shoulder as he stepped away from Bentley’s support and strode toward the balding bastard whose offhand treatment of Aziraphale had always rankled.

“Oi, you overssssized tweety bird!” Crowley shouted, testing the weight of his makeshift club. He doubted the prick would make the mistake of getting close, but he was an optimist at heart.

As Sandalphon turned, the demon inhaled deeply, pulling from his aching core, and opened his serpentine maw to unleash a dragon-like flame. The hellfire reached for its target, dancing through the air as the angel furiously beat his wings to remove himself from its range.

He roared, more for effect than for affect, for a moment more and then closed his jaw, his corporation normal.

“Well, if it isn’t Aziraphale’s infernal boyfriend,” the angel sneered.

“Keep my angel’s name out of your fucking mouth,” Crowley hissed, darting forward. His ebony wings flared out behind him, lifting him off the ground with a mighty stroke. The wind bit at his eyes, but the demon’s gaze never left his target as he chased, climbing higher through the sky.

Sandalphon broke through the cumulonimbus clouds, obscuring himself from view. Crowley corkscrewed upwards, wind spiraling outward from his body and dissipating the clouds around him. As he got his bearings, his gaze darted around, searching for the threat.

Instead, it barreled into him from behind. Sandalphon’s arm wrapped around his throat, cutting off his breath as Crowley tried to draw out his hellfire. The angel’s free hand dug into the wound on the demon’s shoulder, close enough to his left wing’s muscle that the dark appendage faltered and caused the redhead to waver in the air.

Sandalphon pulled them backward through the sky and in the blink of an eye, his arm was no long around Crowley’s neck as his hands caught grip of both of his wing’s metacarpus. He twisted his body, planting his feet on the demon’s back, and shoving the redhead’s form away as he yanked his wings back.

He heard a terrible snap and a guttural scream burst from Crowley’s mouth as violently as the hellfire had moments before.

The angel let go and once again, Crowley was falling.

The wind twisted him around as he plummeted through the air and in his descent, the demon could see Sandalphon raise his finger.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted as lightning lanced the sky.

#good omens #Whumptober 2023 #Crowley #The Bentley #The whump is the Bentley #RIP Bentley (┬┬﹏┬┬)#Sandalphon #cw: suicidal tendencies

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min-pathologica · 11 months ago

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well that was a disturbing way to end my dream.

the earliest i can remember is offering to show my friend to their classes they can’t locate, before realizing i don’t know where their classes are because they’re in pods i don’t have classes in. see the structure of my school in the dream was this: plain first floor. second floor is separated into four pods, blue, red, green, and purple. third floor is the dull pastel version of second floor, with dusty rose, ‘moondust’ (apparently some kind of mint green), light denim, and violet. moondust was the only one explicitly named the others are just descriptioms based on what i remember from the color palette. and third floor mostly had older kid classes, and i apparently did not, so i didn’t particularly know my way around. and i soon realized this third pod was open, like those rooftops you can just hop off the railing. and this made me scared and nauseous when i looked at the height, so i quickly headed downstairs. now see my school in this dream is apparently a boarding school. breakfast is served on the first floor, lunch second, dinner third. so then we got an announcement saying breakfast was served by some grumpy bitch who said we can’t eat on the third floor. but me and some other girl did it anyway. they were serving sushi, and the girl was talking loudly to herself like “who eats sushi for breakfast?? who?” as if she didn’t go to eat on the floor that serves dinner. after a while, she admits defeat and sits down with a plate, as do i. so we’ve just started eating in silence when we hear some girl screaming in the hallway. i figure it’s probably an altercation or injury, so i say “haha yeah i’m staying up here”. because i don’t want to get involved or hurt. soon after her voice is joined with several other low ugly screams. the girl and i just glance uncomfortably at each other then back at the door. this is where i get really nervous and i think of horror movies, where whoever opens the door dies. i think i’d send her to open it, but i figure she’d probably say no if she has an ounce of self-preservation. so we sit there in increasing panic along with the screams outside, before hearing an emergency siren and that’s where i stand up quickly and “nope! we’re leaving” so i hold my breath in case the issue is co or poison gas, and run down the stairs. i hear paramedics on either side of me but avoid looking at them. i i have a bad feeling of dread like i’ll see an ugly body. i get uncomfortable holding my breath halfway down, but luckily at this point i’m half-awake and can force myself to just shimmy out there fast. so i woke up pretty uncomfortable because that’s not a good dream to have

#minxiety

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glapplebloom · 1 year ago

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Zecora’s past. The only official one...

This issue, we find out Zecora’s past. She was a lonely kid who enjoyed reading books. That was until a stray ball came her way. Marini asked Zecora to give it back and if she wanted to play and this began Zecora’s friendship with these five other creatures. But when she learned Zebras can’t do magic, she becomes obsessed with trying to be the first Zebra to do so.

This led to her to read as many books as she could find, including Mage Meadowbrook. But here’s where the comics contradicts the show again, this time in a big way. Zecora heard of Mage Meadowbrook, but as the Mystical Mask. Either way, this got her excited and got her to believe that she can indeed learn magic. But when the others laughed at her, she decided to leave. Oh yeah, the reason she started to rhyme all the time: she heard rhyming helped with spells.

But there are two sides to every story and Marini tells her’s. The ball throwing was on purpose because Zecora and her were neighbors. Marini wanted to hang and thought this was the best way. But when she became obsessed with magic, she was back isolating herself. And when Marini tried to calm her down so she wouldn’t get disappointed, Zecora yelled and ran off. There’s also Zecora’s issue with Crystal, but that’ll be resolved in another issue.

So let’s talk about the good: As we hear Zecora’s story, Rockhoof and Tempest prove to be the best part of this story. Rockhoof found a water geyser thanks to his shovel while Tempest was gathering Rekon about the town and everyone in it. She even whispers to Applejack and says she can conquer the town in an hour tops, half an hour if she had help. AJ says no, but it makes me want to put Tempest on the Super Friends.

Now for Zecora’s friends. Eh... Nothing really much going for them. Marini has the most screen time of the two and is the Mayor of this town. But other than her relation with Zecora, nothing really interests me about her. The Abada have special abilities that seem randomly given. Dust Devil got speed and Cactus Rose got the ability to talk to plants. The Kelpies have magic that allow them to manipulate water with their minds and can turn from solid, liquid and gas.

But other than knowing what they can do, nothing really stands out about them. Medley Brook is airheaded and reminds me of Sonata. Crystal is apparently mean but the only real example is her freezing puddles when Zecora was about to step into them (this was after Zecora’s blow off) and sometimes the artwork makes Medley look like a recolored Fluttershy. I honestly can’t remember their names by heart. Heck, I still default to Martini for Marini.

So back with the plot, the Grootslang is attacking the villages, more frequently than usual, and Marini is organizing her friends to help. But instead of showing us what they can do, we see Zecora soloing the creature using her potions. There seems to be two of them because as they were dealing with one, another is at the school. But the Land’s King arrived just in time to scare that one away.

Applejack suggests she and her friends can stop it from attacking once and for all, but the King doesn’t think they could since the creature resides in the middle of a desert and they’re new. But Marini and her friends step up to lead them to that temple. And that ends this second issue. Overall, it was better than the last issue but the way they treat Zebras really makes it hard to be interested in this story.

Marini has a backstory and shows leadership while the other four are just there. The speedy one runs a bit but that’s the extent of their actions so far. Thank goodness for Rockhoof and Tempest Shadow for being the most entertaining parts of the story so far. Next week, do they really expect to have a musical number in a comic?

#mlp review #mlp revisit #green lantern apple bloom #idw comics #Season 10 #comic series

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anewparty · 3 years ago

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What’s Wrong With Mike Wheeler?

Words: 1771

Jonathan tries to get Mike to open up—but he may be getting more than he bargained for.

I know the title’s not the best, bear with me. I hope it’s not too OOC either.

...

It’s the third, maybe fourth time that Mike has snapped at someone today, and Jonathan can’t take it anymore.

“Will, go help Argyle in the store.”

They’re at a gas station in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The desert heat is dry, oppressive, and they all look like they could use a shower and twelve hours of sleep. If he didn’t know any better, Jonathan would chalk Mike’s behavior up to the stress of their situation. But he does know better.

Mike has been acting strange since he got off the plane.

“But Jonathan—”

Will’s eyes are hard as his eyes shift from his best friend to his brother. Just past him, halfway to the door, Argyle looks back at them. He’s noticed too, but in his pause he says nothing.

Will clearly wants to say something—he has more respect for himself than to just let Mike get away with his behavior—but Jonathan needs to do this.

“Will, go.”

After a final look between them, unhappy gaze lingering on Mike, Will leaves.

Jonathan barely registers the chime of the gas station door as Mike moves to get back inside to his seat, and he catches him by the shoulder. Over an instinctive protest, Jonathan says, “No, you’re not going anywhere.” He opens the back door of the van and pushes Mike towards it—not particularly gently, but he’s not rough either. “Sit down.”

Mike sighs like it’s the last thing he could ever possibly want to do, but he complies, and Jonathan takes a seat next to him.

Teenagers.

In a moment of silence, Jonathan looks at Mike. Really looks at him. The exhaustion is clear on his face—but he’s not just tired. There’s something else there, something that has been simmering under the surface since he arrived. He seems emotionally tired. Like there’s a conflict inside him, weighing on him, and all he wants is for it to stop.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on with you? And don't just say you're worried about El because I know that's not all.”

Mike doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Nothing.”

Oh. So it’s going to be one of those conversations.

Jonathan sighs, runs a hand over his face as his feet shift over the fender. It’s been a long couple of days. It’s taking its toll on all of them.

“Yeah, well, the way you’ve been treating people seems to suggest otherwise,” says Jonathan—he’s past the point of sugarcoating anything. “Especially Will.”

There. It’s not obvious, but a flicker of guilt passes over Mike’s face and he looks away. At least he feels bad about it.

Jonathan’s voice goes soft. “He doesn’t deserve that, Mike. He really cares about you.”

“You think I don’t care about him?” Mike says—sudden, angry. His head has snapped to Jonathan, and his brows furrow like he can’t choose between anger, confusion, or annoyance. “He’s my best friend.”

“Then why are you pushing him away? Did something happen? I don’t understand.”

Because this is what Jonathan really wants to know. Because there’s something different about his shortness when it comes to Will.

“No, Jonathan, you don’t! You don’t understand.” He turns away in a huff, into the van, and brings his knees closer to his chest. His legs are too long for him to sit comfortably that quickly, but his arms find a resting place on his knees, and he presses his back into the wall of the van. With resolve, he avoids Jonathan’s gaze.

Jonathan remains quiet for a long moment, turning away from Mike to gaze out at the expanse. There’s no one for miles, except—presumably—whoever works inside the gas station. Argyle and Will have gone in for food, and knowing Argyle’s penchant for snacking and Will’s ability to find interesting things anywhere, he thinks—hopes—that they’ll be in there long enough for him to at least start to get through to Mike.

Plus, he’s pretty sure they want him to talk to Mike just as much as he does.

His silence seems to have been the correct response, because the fight begins to drain from Mike, dissipating off his shoulders and letting his muscles loosen. His face is still anguished as he presses his cheek into his elbow, but his eyes aren’t so cold anymore, and a small sigh escapes him.

“We got into a fight last summer,” he says, quieter than before, eyes on nothing. Jonathan listens attentively, allows him to speak. “I said… I said some things I shouldn’t have. I was… I took my problems out on him. I shouldn’t have.”

“So you’re upset because you upset him?”

“No,” he says, like it makes no sense for Jonathan to have come to that conclusion. “I mean, maybe a little, but that’s not—” He gets more agitated as he goes on, shifting in his spot. “Look, do we have to talk about this right now?”

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on, Mike.”

“Nothing’s going on!”

“Bullshit. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine.”

“Then why are you crying?”

It’s only now Mike notices the tears. He pauses, then wipes them away angrily—but they keep coming back. “I’m not,” he tries to tell Jonathan, but it doesn’t sound real to his own ears, strangled, like he’s only saying that as if it will get them to stop. The harder he tries, the faster they fall.

Soon, he’s crying into his knees.

“Mike…” Slowly, Jonathan moves opposite him, sits gently against the other side of the van. He wants to be closer, to provide as much comfort as he can, but he gives Mike his space, only stretching out a leg for Mike to know he’s there. And eventually, the heavy breaths and tears begin to subside on their own. When he's no longer hiccuping, Jonathan says quietly, so quietly, "You can tell me. I promise."

After several long, long minutes, Jonathan hears something he never expected Mike to say.

A whisper, muffled in his arms.

“I think I have feelings for Will.”

And a large, gaping pit yawns in Jonathan’s stomach.

Oh.

Jonathan takes a deep breath, head falling as he comes to a thousand realizations all at once, foremost being—This kid needs someone right now, and I'll be damned if that someone isn't me.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding him for El?” he asks softly.

Mike nods—barely—into his arms. “I thought that maybe… maybe with El I could make it go away.” He sniffles, chokes. “But it’s not going away.”

Jonathan’s heart aches. “Mike…”

And Mike looks up at him, eyes shining with fresh tears. “How do I make it go away, Jonathan?”

Jonathan doesn’t quite know what to say.

And so he doesn’t.

Mike stiffens when Jonathan sits down next to him—eyes him warily. Jonathan remains silent. But after a moment, he opens his arms ever so slightly. An invitation.

For a second, a flurry of emotions crosses over Mike’s face—he looks at Jonathan up and down, as if evaluating whether he can be trusted, like Jonathan wouldn’t die for this kid, like he wouldn’t do anything to ease his pain—and it’s only a second longer before Mike’s throwing himself into Jonathan’s grasp.

“Okay, okay,” Jonathan laughs softly, a warmth spreading in his chest where Mike slammed into him. He wraps his arms around the kid and whispers, “It’ll be all right.”

He gives Mike a moment of quiet to allow the tremors to subside, but there is still a little shake in his arms as he starts to talk again. “It’s not going to go away, Mike. You can’t just force things like that. But… it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

Mike withdraws quickly—he looks up at Jonathan, eyes now wide. They’re still wet, but the tears haven’t spilled back over the dried tracks yet. He looks incredulous, maybe even angry. But not sad. “Not a bad thing? Are you crazy? Jonathan, I’m—”

He looks down. He can’t bring himself to say it.

“It’s not… normal.”

At that, Jonathan laughs, and Mike looks at him as if he’s finally lost his mind. “Look around you, Mike. Is anything normal about our lives? We’re in a pizza delivery van driving from California to Indiana so we can rescue my superpowered little sister from the evil scientists who want to experiment on her. There’s nothing normal about that.”

Mike looks at him like he still can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, but eventually his gaze turns more thoughtful than confused. Jonathan can’t imagine how hard this must be for him, and looking back, everything makes sense now.

Even from Will’s side.

And maybe, that’s why Jonathan doesn’t give Mike a chance to reply. Maybe that’s why instead, he asks him—“Are you going to tell Will?”

Mike stiffens, his eyes growing wide once more. But it quickly devolves back into pensiveness, and his mouth closes against the unsaid protest.

“I don’t know,” he sighs, looking away. And well, Jonathan thinks that’s at least better than a no, so he shifts and grabs Mike’s shoulder, waiting for him to meet his eyes.

“There’s no one way to deal with this, Mike. You can handle it when you’re ready. Just… give Will a little more credit, okay? And cut him some slack. Like I said, he cares about you.”

Mike nods. "Yeah. Yeah. You're right."

And Jonathan can see that the tears are no longer there, can hear that his voice is no longer hoarse. After a moment, the kid sends him a small smile, and it’s all Jonathan needs to see to know that he’s done something. That he’s helped, if only to share the burden of Mike’s secret. It’s too heavy to sit on his shoulders alone.

Jonathan smiles back.

He gives Mike’s arm a final squeeze, and as if the universe were on their side for the first time in their shitty lives, a bell signals Will and Argyle’s exit from the store. Mike takes a deep breath as Jonathan steps out to get back behind the wheel, and the desert air is just a little less suffocating than before.

Argyle’s arms are full of food, a Twizzler hanging comically from his mouth. But he sends Jonathan a glance—eyebrow raised, eyes gentle with inquiry: Everything okay?

And Jonathan, who looks back and sees Mike walk over to Will, apology all over his face; Jonathan, who sees Will smile gently in forgiveness and then in mischief—a peanut flicked right into Mike’s face, a ring of laughter from both sides—looks back at Argyle and nods with a smile.

Yes.

Everything will be okay.

...

Hope you enjoyed! You can read some more of my writing here and here. I’ll be writing a bit more between now and season 4 :) Next is a short Will & Argyle ficlet.

#oh my god i've been working on this for like three hours straight #not counting everything i wrote yesterday #byler #byler ficlet #byler fic #my writing

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leossmoonn · 3 years ago

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More Than a Milkovich

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x milkovich,fem!reader

type - angst, fluff

note - to make this inclusive, i decided the reader would be adopted by mandy and mickey after they found ya homeless and alone in the street when you were a little girl lol :)). you guys are both 18 in this.

summary - you and carl are friends with benefits, but he wants to be more

warnings / includes - language, suggestive, food mention, flirting, kissing, underage smoking and drinking (please do not do this in real life). light smut - finishing a bj, carl walking in to you giving a bj to someone else, self deprecation, low self esteem

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Ah, fuck,” Carl groaned, throwing his head back.

You smirked up at him, swallowing his cum before sliding your lips off his dick. You wiped all of his excess cum off your lips with the back of your hand, sitting back onto your heels and looking up at him.

“All good?” You asked. “Mmhm,” he nodded, sitting back up, sighing contently. “You’re really good at that.”

“Well, you know, I’ve had my practice,” you chuckled, getting up and stretching your legs. You leaned down and grabbed your jacket, tugging it on over your tank top before going to leave the room.

Carl frowned as he saw you begin to leave. He got up, pulling up his underwear and pants, buttoning his jeans up as he walked up to you. He reached his hand out and grabbed your forearm, spinning you back to face him.

“What?” You raised your brow. “I just um… where are you going?” Carl asked.

“Home, the gas station, the park. Anywhere where I can smoke,” you listed off.

“Well, you can smoke here,” Carl suggested. You chuckled, shaking your head. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

You managed to get out of his grip, swinging the bedroom door open and walking down the hallway to the stairs. Carl followed you, not wanting you to leave just yet. He grabbed your jacket hood, pulling you back more roughly.

“Hey! Let go!” You exclaimed.

“Sorry, I just don’t understand why you can’t stay,” he pouted.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re blind or whatever, but Debbie hates me. Lip isn’t a big fan of me either, so —”

“The only reason Lip doesn’t like you is because you remind him of Mandy. That’s his own issue. And Debbie doesn’t hate you. She just —”

“Nope, I hate her,” Debbie chimed in.

You turned your head as she walked out of the bathroom. You snorted, “See? The skank has confirmed.”

“Me a skank? I’m not the one who has been giving blowjobs since the seventh grade,” Debbie shot back.

“That was one time, and I never did it again until sophomore year,” you scoffed.

“Oh, yeah, and since then it’s been Party City in your mouth, right?” Debbie prompted.

“At least I know how birth control works,” you remarked.

“Hey, Franny is —”

“You two just stop! Debbie, just go. I need to talk to Y/n,” Carl sighed. “Good luck having an intellectual conversation with her. She’s a Milkovich,” Debbie spat.

You rolled your eyes, giving her the finger behind her back as she walked down the stairs. You then turned back to Carl, giving him an impatient stare.

“What do you need to talk to me about?”

“Just that you can stay and hang out. Or we can go to the movies or something,” he suggested.

Your face softened and you gave him an apologetic smile. You went over and put your hand on his shoulder, looking him in his eyes. You wanted to say yes so bad, but you knew if you did, you would be entering dangerous territory.

“Maybe another time?” You suggested. “You always say that,” Carl frowned.

“And I always mean it.” You patted his shoulder, then leaving and running down the stairs.

“Oh, yeah, Y/n!” Ian smiled. “Hey,” you smiled back. “Leaving so soon?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Duty calls,” you held up your pack of Camels.

Ian chuckled and nodded, waving goodbye to you as you shut the door. Carl trudged down the stairs, going to sit at the counter.

“Hey, what’s got your dick in a twist?” Ian asked. “Y/n,” Carl and Debbie both answered.

The two looked at each other, death glares playing on their faces. Ian raised his brows as the tension.

“What about her? Is she getting to the point where her jaw locks now,” he smirked.

“No. She just doesn’t want to hang out,” Carl explained. “Oh, how come?” Ian asked.

“Because all she does is screw around. That’s all the Milkovich’s do,” Debbie stated.

“What do you have against them? You mad that you didn’t have a chance to date one?” Carl snickered.

“Okay, one, ew. Two, no. I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “Well, you’re wrong. Mandy has a job now,” Carl said.

“Yeah, and Mickey may not be going to prison,” Ian grinned.

“Wow, what a role model,” Debbie rolled her eyes. “Anyways,” Carl ignored his sister. “She always makes excuses when I ask her out to the movies or something. And she says she likes me, but it doesn’t seem that way.”

“Are you really that dumb?” Ian asked. “What?” Carl furrowed his brows.

“She doesn’t think she’s good enough for you, genius,” Ian stated.

“Oh,” Carl said, his face lighting up. But the realisation diminished almost as fast as it came. “Why?”

“Kind of what Debbie was saying,” Ian admitted. “All she’s really done is screw around and I don’t think she’s ever been in a real relationship before. It doesn’t help that your guys’s relationship started out with sex.”

“Well, that’s not my fault! She’s the one who offered!” Carl exclaimed.

“Yeah, but you weren’t the one to say no and take things slow,” Ian said.

“I thought all girls liked to go fast,” Carl said. “Sometimes I miss Fiona,” Debbie muttered while she walked past the two boys.

Ian chuckled at her comment, nodding in agreement. “Look, just get her flowers or something and express your feelings to her, and make sure she’s actually listening.”

“Okay. What flowers should I get her?” Carl smiled at the idea. “Um, what are her favourite?” Ian asked.

“Um…” Carl thought for a bit, but nothing came to mind. He then realised that he really didn’t know much about you, and that it was all his fault for not trying to get to know you better.

“Dahlias,” Debbie answered for him.

The two boys looked at her, very confused, but thankful.

“What? I see her drawing them all the time in her notebook,” she shrugged.

Carl grinned and got up to hug her. “Thanks, Debs.”

“No problem. I can tell how much you like her. I guessed I should help.”

“I’m going to the store. You guys are a big help, thanks,” Carl smiled. He grabbed some money that was hidden in a cereal box, practically flying out the door.

“I should go with him, right? Make sure he’s grabbing the right things?” Debbie asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Ian nodded. “Thought so,” Debbie sighed.

She grabbed her purse, catching up with Carl right before he drove off. The two of them went to Kroger, which was a little ways away, but Carl thought it was totally worth it for the girl of his dreams. He picked out a big bouquet of Dahlias, Debbie helping him pick out an assortment of chocolates and a pretty gold necklace with a ‘C’ on it. Carl hoped you would accept all of this. More so his proposal than the gifts.

“Thanks for helping out,” Carl smiled at Debbie. “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t help?” She grinned.

“You think she’ll like all this?” Carl asked. “If she’s a normal girl, she’ll love it. Especially the chocolates. The way to a girl’s heart is food. Most of the time,” Debbie chuckled.

“Good,” Carl breathed out, a nervous, but excited smile on his face.

He drove him and Debbie back to the house, putting your little gifts in a Christmas gift bag he found in the closet. He kept out the flowers, keeping them in the sun as she changed. He put on a button-up shirt with khaki shorts; clothes he found in Lip’s closet. The shirt was a little big, but he wanted to look nice so he stuck with it. He brushed his teeth two times, making sure his breath didn’t stink. And finally, he gathered everything up, going back downstairs, Ian, Lip, and Debbie all smiling at you.

“Lookin’ sharp,” Lip snickered. “Thanks. Hope you don’t mind I borrowed your clothes,” Carl chuckled.

“Not at all. Anything for a Milkovich girl, right?”

“Hey, she’s better than Mandy,” Carl frowned.

“Oh, I bet,” Lip sighed. “I think you look great Carl,” Ian smiled.

“Thanks. Uh, do you guys happen to know where Y/n is?” Carl asked.

“No, we’re not her keepers,” Debbie snorted. “She’s probably at her house or under the El,” Ian answered.

“Alright. I’ll try her house first. Wish me luck, guys,” Carl smiled.

“Good luck! Don’t fuck it up!” Lip exclaimed.

Carl chuckled at his brother’s words, going out the front door. He walked over to your house, knocking on the door, revealing Terry with a gun.

“Whoa,” Carl gasped. Terry huffed as he realised it was just a Gallagher. “The fuck you want?”

“Is Y/n home?” Carl asked. “Yeah, pretty sure she’s blowin’ somebody,” Terry muttered, walking away so Carl could enter.

“Oh,” Carl gulped as he stepped into the house. He made his way to your room, seeing that the door was cracked open. He peered inside, grimacing as you were in fact giving head to one of the boys from high school.

“Hey, Y/n,” Carl said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

You stopped your movement, eyes growing wide as you noticed Carl standing awkwardly with flowers in his hand. You scrambled to your feet, the boy you were blowing whining in disapproval.

“Grow up, Houston,” you muttered. “But I have blue balls,” he pouted.

“Give me my money or you’ll have blue and black balls,” you growled, holding your hand out.

He rolled his eyes, smacking a ten dollar bill in your hand before getting up and pulling up his pants. Carl avoided all eye contact with the boy, looking at him shoes to try and pass the time.

“Oh, hey, Gallagher. Yo, is this a threesome?” The boy smiled.

“You wish. Now scram,” you pushed the boy out of your bedroom.

“I expect a full session next time,” he said. “Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The boy left and Carl lifted his head up. You tugged on a sweatshirt over your bare boobs, looking to Carl, trying to ignore the embarrassment that flooded your brain.

“Hey, what’s up” You asked. “Uh, nothing. Just wanted to see you,” Carl said nonchalantly.

“Why’re you dressed like you’re going to a wedding or something?” You snickered, walking past him and going to the bathroom.

Carl looked down at his clothes, chuckling nervously. “All my clothes are dirty so I had to borrow some of Lip’s.”

You began to brush your teeth and looked him and and down again. “Oh, cool,” you nodded. “Well, you look nice.”

He blushed, “Thank you.” You smiled at him after you spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth a few times before you went back to your room.

Carl followed you like a lost puppy, awkwardly standing in your doorway as you sat down on your bed. You lit a cigarette, smiling at Carl teasingly.

“You can come sit. I don’t bite.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, walking over.

“What’s all that?” You gestured to the flowers and gift bad.

“Oh, uh, these are for you. I hope you like them. I didn’t know what kind of chocolate you liked, so I got you all,” he explained, pulling the assorted chocolates and necklace boxes out of the bag. “And I heard your favourite flowers are Dahlias, so I got you some.” He held out the flowers in front of your face.

You couldn’t fight the grin that was making its way onto your face. You grabbed the flowers, closing your eyes while smelling them. You breathed in the sweet scent, it masking the scent of the sweaty balls you had your nose in front of a few minutes ago. You opened your eyes, seeing Carl holding a gold necklace with a small ‘C’. You then realised what was happening.

You shoved the flowers back to him, standing up and going to the door. “You should go,” you said while not looking at him.

Carl frowned and got up, walking over to you. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just… Terry’s gonna kill you,” you lied.

Carl put his hand under your chin, lifting your head up. You backed away from him, opening your door wider.

“Thanks for the chocolates and flowers, Carl. I’ll make sure to put them to good use,” you gave him a small smile.

“D-Did you see the necklace?” Carl asked, holding it up in your face again.

“Yeah, I saw it. It’s nice, but it’s not my type of accessory,” you lied again.

“Oh, alright,” Carl’s shoulder fell in defeat. “Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m tired so I’m going to take a nap. You know draining giving blow jobs are,” you chortled.

You then grabbed his arm, shoving him out of your bedroom. You began to shut the door, but Carl caught it, opening it back up.

“Y/n, why do you always push me away?” He asked.

You looked into his clear-blue eyes, suddenly getting defensive.

“I do that with everyone, Carl. Don’t take it personally. Plus, I don’t always do it.”

“Yes, you do. Why are you so afraid of being in a relationship?” He questioned.

You scoffed, “You should go now.” You tried to push the door close, but Carl brought his whole body in-between the door frame.

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer my question.Why are you so afraid of being in a relationship? Is it me? Because I swear I’m a good boyfriend, or at least I think I am. I try to be. I don’t pressure you into doing anything, and I know you know I never would ever. I know I’m not the smartest, but I really like you, Y/n. If you just give me a —”

“It’s not you, Carl!” You exclaimed.

“Then what is it?” Carl asked, leaning towards you.

You heart raced as you could feel his breath on your lips. You moved away from him, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you spoke.

“It's me.”

“What do you mean? How?” Carl asked.

“You really have to ask that?” You scoffed. “I’m a fucking Milkokvich. All I’m good for is a quick fuck or blowie. You know that. That’s why our relationship is a friends with benefits one. You’re a Gallagher, Carl. You actually have a chance in life if you ever set your mind to it, and you have. You went to military school, and look at you now! You’re perfect. Me? I’m just a waste of space. My own mother didn’t want me. She left me on the streets when I was five. And then I get brought into this Godforsaken family, which I am thankfully most times, but it just ruined my chance of having a future. Anyways, Carl, you deserve more than me. So just leave before things get really ugly.”

Carl sighed and dropped the gift bag, going over to you and taking your hands in his. You sniffled, looking at him with blurred vision.

“Wha-What’re you do-doing?” You asked in-between sobs.

“I’m not leaving. I’m staying. Look, we both come from fucked up families, and Milkoviches might be more fucked up, but I don’t care. You are the girl of my dreams, Y/n, and I’ve dated quite a few girls. So, please, just believe me for once and have some faith in yourself. Let’s start this relationship off on the right foot. You’re more than just a Milkovich, Y/n. So much more.”

You stared into his eyes, getting lost in them as he spoke to you. His words tugged at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but give in. He was the boy of your dreams, if you were to be completely honest.

“Didn’t realise you knew how to form compound sentences and be so romantic,” you smirked.

Carl rolled his eyes with a smile. “And I didn’t know you felt this way about yourself. You always have seemed so confident.”

“Well, there’s more than meets the eye, I guess,” you shrugged.

“See! Being positive isn’t that hard,” he said.

“God, I hate when you’re so optimistic,” you rolled your eyes.

You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him close and smashing your lips onto his. Carl’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. This kiss was so much more different than your previous kisses. Your teeth clashed together in a hot, open-mouthed kiss from both of you. You moaned in his mouth as your heart sang in your chest, causing a million butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Carl pulled away, gasping for air. You let out a little whine, bringing him closer so you could kiss him again, but he stopped you. He let go of your waist, bending down to reach into the gift bag to pull out the necklaces. You giggled as he held it up to your face, taking your hands in his once again.

“Wanna be my girl?” He asked.

“Aren’t I already?” You cocked up a teasing brow.

Carl grinned and nodded. “Yeah, you’ll always be my girl.”

————

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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago

Text

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together.

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms.

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 2 years ago

Text

Long Rest and a Level Up | Hawkins Crew

Prompt: Promise

Words: 1518

Fandom: Stranger Things

A/N: Something sweet to start of Writer's Month. Would have gone longer, but then I won't be able to finish it on time. Background Steddie, The Party is the main focus in this one.

Summary: Steve surprises the kids with a road trip to California to visit the Byers.

Saving up money for a used RV was hard when he worked at a video store and had to drive teenagers around town every week, but Steve managed. Well, it was more like he saw the kids needing a break from everything and were also missing Will and El, so he made a promise to do something special for them. It was then they decided to pool in their money and a little borrowing from the Wheelers to be able to afford it. Steve didn’t want to even attempt to ask his parents. They had cut him off and were only allowing him to stay at the house in case they felt like coming back.

Before he bought the RV, he called Joyce, wanting it to be a surprise for Jonathan, Will, and El. She agreed and even offered to help pay the gas money. The plan was all coming together, now they just need to tell the kids.

“Oh, my god!” Dustin screeched, practically bouncing off the walls of his house once Steve broke the news. “We’re doing it! We’re finally doing it!”

“Jesus, Henderson,” Steve said, wincing. Good thing Dustin’s mom was out or else he’ll have to explain why her son was going wild. “I haven’t told the others yet, so you need to help me surprise them. The Wheelers know, but not Mike. None of the Byers kids know, either. Oh, and Hopper might come with us.”

Dustin froze, collapsing on his couch as he gaped up at him. “Why?” he asked incredulously.

“He’s using his paid vacation time?” Steve said with uncertainty, “Can the Chief of Police do that?”

“I think he can because he’s Jim Hopper.”

“True.”

“Who else is going? Can Eddie come with us? I want him to meet Will so bad, I can’t even wait for him to move back to Hawkins.”

“Breathe, dude. Of course he’s coming. So is Robin and Nancy. Do you think the Byers house will be able to fit nine more people? I guess some of us can just stay in the RV.”

“We’ll figure it out. How bad can it be?”

Dustin helped him clear up and stock the RV to make it ready for the trip. Steve called their parents ahead of time, asking permission to drive them to California.

The gremlins were having DnD in the Wheeler basement when Steve rolled up with the RV. They were deeply immersed in a heavy roleplaying moment that they didn’t notice Steve making his way downstairs. He paused for a moment, watching the kids lean in as Eddie described the scene so vividly that even someone like Steve who doesn’t have much imagination could picture it. Eddie looked up for a brief moment and winked at him before turning his attention back to the game.

Steve sat next to Max on the couch, playfully nudging to make room. She rolled her eyes and smiled, scooting over and continued to read her Wonder Woman comic. He eyed the small pile of comics on the coffee table, then at his watch. He’ll give them fifteen minutes to wrap it up, then he’ll take them home. He picked up an X-Men comic, not really knowing each of the characters, but it wasn’t a bad way to pass the time.

When time was up, he clapped his hands, gathering everyone’s attention. “Okay, shitheads, time to go!”

There was a collection of groans from the boys while Max sighed, packing up her things silently before holding her hand out to Steve.

“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“What do you think? Keys,” she said, smirking.

He sighed, fishing them out from his pocket. “Yeah, I was afraid about that.”

He dropped the keys into her palm and held a finger to his lips. Her eyes widened, fingers quickly clutching them tightly. “Hurry up or we’re leaving without you guys!” she shouted, running up the stairs before anyone could respond.

Lucas stood there in confusion, wondering why she was so eager to leave. Sure, DnD wasn’t her thing, but she said she liked hanging out in the basement no matter how nerdy she thinks it is. Steve clapped his shoulder and snapped his fingers.

“Chop, chop, guys. If you’re late again, your parents will ruin my plans,” he said.

“What plans?” Erica asked, because of course she’d be the one to catch onto that.

Steve ignored her scrutiny and walked over to Eddie to help him pack away his things, the two of them moving around each other seamlessly. With the DM divider the last to pack, Eddie zipped up his bag and grinned at Steve.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” he teased, leaning in until their noses brushed and a pink tint dusted Steve’s cheeks.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “You act as if he doesn’t do that every time we have DnD.”

“Shh, your parents are having a moment right now, Dusty.”

Erica mimicked a barfing motion before stomping up the stairs to find Max. Lucas followed his sister closely behind with Mike by his side. While the latter got used to Steve’s presence, it was still awkward to be in a room with just him and Eddie. Dustin’s already used to it and as much as the group joked about them being a family, they sure do act like it.

The kids were already ransacking the RV by the time Steve and Eddie walked out the house. Karen and Nancy were standing by the door, shaking their heads fondly at the group. Mike turned to his mom with wide eyes.

“Really? We’re going on a road trip? You’re letting me go?” he rapidly spat out.

“Nancy is coming with,” his mom said, smiling when Mike’s face turned into a look of disgust.

“Why?”

“Mike.”

“Face it, loser,” Nancy said, “It’s either I go with you guys or you don’t go at all.”

Mike groaned, hitting his head on the side of the van. Max was already at the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wide steering wheel as her and Lucas pretended that they were racing down the streets and out of Hawkins. Dustin was double checking their snack and water supply, factoring in the stops and the weather and everything in between while preventing Erica from eating their candies before they could even leave.

“I’m starting to regret this if it’s going to be like this the entire trip,” Steve muttered.

The trip was so far so good. Their initial excitement as they climbed into the RV with their bags knocked them out cold two hours after passing the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign. Steve knew that it was a good idea to leave first thing in the morning. Five AM was too early for them. The older kids relished this time to talk amongst themselves, discussing the routes they planned for the trip, along with occasional sightseeing and rest stops.

“I’m glad that this one is bigger than the van we stole,” Robin said, stretching her legs out as she sat at the table with Nancy.

“Oh, yeah. How did Hopper manage to sort that one out?” Eddie asked. Fortunately, Hopper had said that he was going to join the group later after something came up at the station, so there weren't any adults monitoring them.

“We had to clean the entirety of the van to make up for it. You weren’t there because you were sitting in jail.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me, Buckley.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was nice seeing the kids being carefree, as if the air in Hawkins was as dense and stuffy as the Upside down and that once they left they could finally breathe. Even Nancy seemed to be more open and talkative than usual. Steve doubted that any of them ever had a road trip like this and he worried that they would get bored or impatient before they were halfway to California. Dustin had helped with the itinerary, knowing exactly what his friends would enjoy seeing.

“Hey. let me switch on the next stop,” Eddie said, his round eyes watching him like a hawk. Twice he had caught his head jerking up as he tried to stay awake. “We’re almost there.”

Steve stifled a yawn and nodded. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Don’t forget, this trip is for you, too. Take time to relax. The evil has been defeated, the world is saved. We did it, big boy. Long rest and XP points all around.”

Steve sat up straighter at the nickname, eyes focused on the road but he just knew that Eddie was smiling widely. He shook his head, waving a hand over to the radio. Eddie quickly twisted the knob, leaning close to listen for any familiar guitar riffs. Once he found the right station, he immediately recognized the song, bursting into an air guitar solo with as much energy as he would when performing at The Hideout with Corroded Coffin despite the volume being low enough to not wake the kids. Steve smiled, his fingers tapping along with the rhythm.

Even if he had to tolerate the Wheelers bickering and Dustin’s nagging, seeing Eddie like this made it all worth it.

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wincestisasincest · 3 years ago

Text

Who Loves the Sun?

Viktor x Fem!Reader MAD MAX AU BITCHES

Hi, so I was very inspired by @grumpyoutlaw and their Mad Max Vik, and I just had to get this little blurb out of my head! Please go check out their art and show them some love if you haven't already.

This is unedited and bad, but like c'mon you know I had to do it to 'em.

Word Count: 1.2k

Triggers: None? Oh, but there are guns, because like... Mad Max

The skin is peeling from your nose. You pull the bill of your baseball cap down further, as if that small thing can protect you from the sun. Whatever. It’s not the sun that you need protection from now.

“Oh, shit,” you hear a voice from outside the gas station door, “Vik... I think someone beat us to it.”

You snap the muzzle of your shotgun up and down. You’ve got 4 shells in there, which won’t be enough. You’ll have to be expedient.

“I don’t see anyone,” another voice answers. The accent is... strange. You’ve heard it before in movies, but can’t quite pin it.

“Well, their Jeep is here. Who’d leave this out in the open?”

“Maybe the owner died.”

“Optimistic this morning, huh?”

You can’t tell if the serrated question at the end is aggression or sarcasm, though you’re hoping for the latter. Even from here, you can see the long shadow that their rig casts, blocking most of the sunlight from coming in through the gas station window.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Well,” the first voice sighs, “I guess we better get to it.”

You should wait. You should wait, you should wait, you should wait. Nothing, not the diesel, not your Jeep, is worth your life. But damnit, there’s just two guys. You can take them. You’ve spent so much time being overcautious out here, you feel like you’re owed some brazenness.

So you come out from behind the corner, and the business end of your shotgun is inches away from a tanned, square face with a strong jaw, crouching in front of the fuel pump.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, “I found it first.”

He’s caught off guard, but only for a second.

“So you did,” he puts his hands up, sighing.

“Oh, shit,” the other voice parrots his friend. You can only see a gangly silhouette as he peers out the front of the truck - a fucking massive 18 wheeler - and the sunlight crawls on his back.

It’s quiet, one of those moments where you swear you can hear the heat rising from the earth.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to trade some spare tires for it?” the man chuckles, but you stay stoic.

“Don’t suppose I would.”

“Right,” he bites his lip, “well, listen, I don’t know what you’d want for it, but whatever it is, we can get it for you once we get back into town.”

“You’re a townie?”

“Pulled Over.”

You relax the shotgun in your grip. You’ve heard of Pulled Over - the people there are no threat to you, even if they’re not exactly accommodating of wanderers.

“I’m not sharing,” you say, more just to see what he’ll do than anything else.

“No, I wouldn’t either if I were you,” the second voice, coming in through one of your ears, has moved. He’s in front of your Jeep now, with the hood popped, judging your engine like it’s his goddamn birthright, “Did you supercharge this engine yourself?”

He’s handsome. Not like the other one, who looks like some pre-apocalypse vision of a Prince Charming, even in the road getup. No, this one, with goggles precariously balanced on his forehead and soot contouring the sharp lines of his face, has the wiliness of a mad scientist that sets the plot in motion.

“...yes?”

“It’s good work,” he praises, running his finger along one of the engine’s metal rims and grinding the rust between his fingers, “but your spark plug needs replacing. You’re burning through fuel faster than you should.”

“Yeah, well, if you find a replacement spark plug that I don’t need to murder someone over, let me know,” you snort.

“Ah, we have those,” the square one says, “in Pulled Over. But... we need the diesel first.”

You exhale through your nose.

“Alright, well, I guess we can split it, and I’ll-”

“We need all of it,” the handsome one says.

“All of it?”

“We’re empty.”

“So am I, and,” you pause, rolling back your shoulders, “Pulled Over’s like, what, 60 miles from here? This much won’t get your rig there.”

“It will,” Handsome insists, and you finally notice that he’s supporting himself with what looks like recycled PVC pipe with a handle molded from metal, as though it’s a cane, “we’re not solely reliant on diesel.”

“What?” you squint at him, “What the hell else does it run on, magic?”

“If you give us the diesel, I can show you.”

“Ugh,” you throw your head back to the sky, but only for a second, so they don’t have time to think they’re off the hook, “and I’m supposed to just, what, trust you?”

“In theory, yes. If we’re lying, you can shoot Jayce.”

“Hey!” the square one - Jayce - says, and it actually makes Handsome crack a smile.

“I’m kidding. You can shoot me,” he corrects, removing his long rifle with a spiked, claw-shaped muzzle from the sling and sliding it through the dirt to you in surrender.

You don’t take it yet.

“Funny looking gun.”

“Wait till you see the truck.”

He wasn’t kidding. While Jayce attaches the tow line to the front of your Jeep, you join Handsome in the front seat, the shotgun still ready for action and an extra gun hanging over your shoulder.

Instead of sitting, though, he stands on top of the drivers seat, looking through the roof at something over the long, flat body of the truck.

“Come,” he waves you up.

When you wobble to your feet to join him, you’re nearly blinded by all of the scattered light bouncing from its reflective surface. It’s smooth and blue, looking a bit like graph paper, and sprawling over every inch of the vehicle’s top.

“Woah,” is all you can say.

“They are solar panels,” he explains, leaning on the roof with his elbows, “They are based off of some old blueprints I found.”

“Renewable,” you say, “that’s... wow.”

“Yes, if there’s one thing we do not lack here, it’s sunlight.”

He turns to look at you, and for the first time you see his eyes, the same color as iron rich dirt. You’d think after driving through that desolate, sun-kissed hue for your whole life, you’d get sick of it, but it suits him.

“You can say that again,” you copy him, bending forward on the roof to admire his work.

“Jayce and I plan to implement it all throughout Pulled Over once we have perfected the design.”

“That so?” you raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t believe me?” he doesn’t sound offended, just curious.

“Eh,” you tilt your head back and forth, “jury’s still out. That would really be something, though.”

You rest your chin in your hand, and the world lapses into comfortable silence, and again you swear that you can hear the heat, this time not coiling through the air, but stinging the panels as they absorb it.

Finally, you realize you’ve forgotten something. You shove your hand in his direction and offer your name.

He takes it, and his long fingers are surprisingly chilled as they squeeze around your palm.

“Viktor,” he says, and you get to see him grin for a second time, though your unable to tell if the burn on his cheeks is from the sun or not, “it’s a pleasure.”

#grumpyoutlaw the SIZE of your brain #arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #mad max au

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daringyounggrayson · 3 years ago

Text

whumptober day 20: trunk (AO3)

“Dick?”

Bruce’s voice leaks into Dick’s dream, and the hand shaking his shoulder pulls him the rest of the way out.

“Mmm, stop it,” Dick mumbles, batting at Bruce's hand.

“Come on, chum. Training exercise.”

Dick opens his eyes at that, sitting up immediately. He catches a glimpse at the clock: 2:17 in the morning. “What kind of training exercise?”

“You’ll see. Get dressed and meet me in the garage.”

Dick nods, rubbing his eyes as he slides out of bed. He dresses quickly in the dark and then meets Bruce in the garage.

Dick stops in his tracks when he sees Bruce. He’s leaning against one of the unmarked cars, and he has a few sets of zip-ties, rope, and a blindfold.

“Ready?” Bruce asks.

Dick nods.

“This is training for in case you ever get thrown in a trunk,” Bruce explains. “I’m going to restrain and blindfold you, then put you in the trunk and start driving. I’m going to drive out of town, and while I’m doing that, your job is to get out of the restraints and blindfold. I’ll tell you when you can punch the taillight out so you can start picking up landmarks. Once you have enough information, you’ll need to open the trunk. Any questions so far?”

Dick tilts his head. “Do I get to jump out of a moving car?”

“Not this time. I want you to have more practice on the landing before we try it on pavement, so once the trunk pops open, I’ll stop the car, and then you’ll get out.”

“Okay, got it. Wait for the ride to come to a full and complete stop,” Dick jokes. “Then what?”

“Hnn. Once you’re out of the car, I’ll give you a ten-minute head start, and then you have to find your way back home without me seeing you,” Bruce says. “Understood?”

“Yeah,” Dick says around a yawn. He’s good with stealth, and it will probably be easier to avoid Bruce entirely than to try to fight him, but the latter would’ve been more fun. “Is the sleep deprivation part of it?”

“Yes.”

“Figures. Okay, let’s get started so I can go back to sleep.”

oOo

The restraints aren’t hard to slip out of. That’s probably a choice on Bruce’s part, either because he’s planning to repeat this exercise with increasing levels of difficulty or to try to get Dick to underestimate him. Maybe both.

“Go!” Bruce abruptly calls from the front.

Dick immediately kicks the taillight out, peering through the opening and trying to figure out where he is. Going by how fast Bruce is driving, Dick wouldn’t have been surprised if they were on the freeway, but they’re not. It looks like backroads, near a forest. He doesn’t know this area very well, but it’s familiar enough. He’s sure he could eventually find a trail that connects to one of the paths by the manor.

He lets Bruce drive for a few more minutes—trying to take in as many clues as he can—then he kicks the trunk open.

The car comes to a stop shortly after that, and Dick hops out, making a run for the woods. He zig-zags as he goes, and after running for about five minutes, he climbs a tree and tries to get a better view of the area. He can’t see the road anymore, so that’s probably a good sign, but he can’t see much of anything else between the leaves and lack of light.

But Dick can use this to his advantage. At the very least, it makes good coverage.

He keeps moving, at a slower but still brisk pace. He realizes that this is going to take a while, and he’ll likely get lost a few times before finding a familiar path. Bruce never gave him a time limit, so it’s not like that matters much, but Dick’s tired. The faster he gets home, the better.

He begins to move closer to the road, trying to get a better sense of where he is. Being on the road is risky because of its limited coverage, but Bruce will probably try to track him down in the woods first, so Dick has time.

Dick picks up his pace until he’s running, making sure to duck down at the sound of cars and snapping twigs. It doesn’t take long for him to come across a gas station. Bingo.

After checking that the coast is clear, Dick makes his way inside and walks right up to the counter. “Excuse me, sir?” he asks the cashier.

“What do you want, kid?” he asks, flipping through a magazine. In another city, maybe they’d be more concerned about a disheveled ten-year-old showing up in a gas station at nearly three in the morning. But that’s standard stuff in Gotham.

“Could I borrow a phone?” Dick asks.

The cashier looks at him, then sighs. “Fine, but make it quick.” He stands from his stool and waves at Dick to come behind the counter, then points toward the store phone.

“Thanks,” Dick says with a smile. He picks up the phone, then slides down to the ground so no one will be able to see him from the window. Then he calls Alfred’s cell phone.

It rings three times before an irritated Alfred answers. “Alfred Pennyworth speaking.”

“Hiya, Alfie,” Dick greets. “You’ll never guess where I am.”

oOo

“I swear,” Alfred says as he drives Dick back home, “these bloody training exercises are getting out of hand. You should be in bed.”

Dick shrugs. “Bruce always says I need to be prepared. And as far as his training scenarios go, this one will probably end up being pretty useful.” He’s already had one attempted kidnapping, and there are bound to be more. “Besides, it’s Saturday. I can sleep in.”

Alfred purses his lips and doesn’t say anything else. Dick leans over to mess with the radio.

When they get home, Dick sees that Bruce’s car is still gone. He grins, jumping out of the car with a whoop. “Yes! I won!” Dick cheers, and he catches Alfred giving him an amused smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, lad,” Alfred says, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “Then you can inform Master Bruce of your victory and go straight to bed.”

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nightwing #batman #batfamily #elizabeth writes

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sodasback · 3 years ago

Text

JJ’s Sister Part 1

Reposting from my deleted account.

Maybank!Reader x John B (eventually)

Warnings: Domestic violence (physical and verbal abuse), cursing

"Who used up all the fucking gas?!"

You and JJ were sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner you made yourselves from the leftovers you could find, when you heard your father slam the car door and yell. He was mad. And probably drunk. Your and JJ's eyes widened as you looked at each other. JJ then scrunched his eyes closed.

"Fuck. I forgot to fill it up." He cursed.

"Shit JJ" You sympathized.

"Go to the chateau or go in your room." JJ whispered.

"No. I'll tell him it was me. He's not gonna hit me." You argued.

"Y/N, he's on one. Get outta here." He ordered more firmly this time, but you kept your eyes on him, "It'll be fine. I'll be fine. Go!"

You hid in the hallway, when you heard your dad barrel through the front door.

"Boy, did you drive the car, use my gas and leave it practically empty?! I ran out of gas halfway to the marina. Couldn't afford to get dinner for you two because I had to buy gas! You better believe you'll pay me back for that."

You could tell JJ was staying quiet and seated, knowing anything he said or did would just make it worse.

"Look at me, boy!" Luke said, hitting the back of JJ's head. JJ stood up and backed away.

"Yes, dad, I'll pay you back okay?" JJ raised his voice, letting his temper rise with it.

"I've heard that shit before!" Luke smacked JJ in the face, but not enough to knock him down. He was looking for a fight.

You winced hearing JJ get hit. Your dad didn't hit you ...usually. He had done it before, but only if JJ wasn't there. Because the one time your dad had hit you in front of JJ, JJ almost killed him. You were pretty sure he wouldn't hit you with JJ there now, so you walked back down the hall.

"Dad?" You said quietly.

"Y/N!" JJ interrupted as your dad let go of JJ and turned to face you.

"Dad, it wasn't JJ. It was me. I took the car and forgot to fill it up. I"m sorry. ...Look, here's $40 for the gas."

Your dad towered over you, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N! You're just trying to protect him." You flinched a little.

"No, JJ was covering for me. I'm sorry."

He looked down and took the money out of your hand with a deep sigh, causing you to flinch.

"Get outta here, both of ya. I can't stand to look at either one of you right now." He said, voice dripping with disdain and then turning to the kitchen.

"Come on, J." You said, grabbing his arm and tugging him behind you out the door.

"God! I hate when you do that!" JJ yelled, exasperated as you guys walked down the street aimlessly, knowing you would probably end up at John B's.

"JJ" you sigh, not wanting to have this argument again.

“Why can’t you just fucking listen to me?! I hate when you’re there when he’s like that. He’s gonna lose control with you one of these days and then…” He trailed off.

“Kay, how bout you don’t yell at me right now and just be grateful for the fact that we both got out of there fine …for the most part. Let me see your face.” You said, gently reaching for his chin, but he pushed your hand away and turned away from you. You rolled your eyes.

JJ just shook his head and bit his lip as his jaw clenched. His temper was still rising from what just happened with dad.

“It’s one thing that he hits me. But if I can’t fucking protect my little sister, then I don’t know why I even-

“JJ shut up! First of all, you’re older than me by what? 2 fucking minutes? So let’s get that straight. And it’s not your fault he’s like this. It’s not your fault if something happens to me. It’s not us. We got dealt a shitty hand in life. All we can do is be there for each other and always have the other’s back when we can. Right?” You said trying to and finally making eye contact with him.

He shook his head a little more. Even though you knew he didn’t fully agree with everything you were saying, he still let out a “Yeah.”

You reached your hand out to do your no-so-secret handshake. And he rolled his eyes at you, “Come on” You smiled at him.

He smiled a little and you did your secret handshake.

“I’ll pay you back for the gas money you gave him.” JJ said.

“Don’t worry about it. I took the twenties you had in the top drawer of your night stand.”

JJ nodded and then paused, “I had $80 in my night stand.”

You pulled the additional $40 out of your bra and held it in between your fingers smirking as you walked backwards away from JJ paused in the street.

JJ shook his head, “I’m gonna give you a 3 second head start.” He said menacingly. You took off running. You squealed as you reached the backyard of the Chateau.

You spotted Pope sitting in a folding chair near the fire they just started. “Pope! Save me! JJ’s trying to kill me!” You yelled, running behind him.

“And you chose to hide behind me?” He asked, barely looking up from his book.

“Right! Where’s Kie?”

“She’s getting food.”

“John B!” You yelled, as JJ caught up to you, you scurried behind John B. who had been moving logs around and you put your hands on his hips to use him as shield between you and JJ.

“Really Y/N?! Give it back!” JJ yelled, trying to reach around John B. to get to you.

“JJ back off. You guys are so immature.” John B. lazily held JJ at arms length. “Stop trying to hurt my little bug.” You melted at John B’s affectionate nickname for you as he tried to maneuver his arm around your shoulders and tuck you into his side away from JJ. You smiled evilly at JJ in only the way a sibling can smile when someone sides with them.

“I’ll give you 20 of the 40 bucks she stole from me?” JJ offered quickly.

John B. looked down at you as you quickly got ready to run again, but John B. already had you in a headlock.

“Traitor!” You yelled at John B. and he started rubbing a noogie into your head. “Ow, fine fine! You can have it!” John B stopped but kept you in a headlock.

“I’m not going in your bra!” JJ yelled.

"I will!” John B volunteered casually, but you elbowed him hard in the ribs and he immediately let go of you.

“Here. ...dicks” You grumbled holding out the money that JJ hastily snatched from you hands. You went and threw yourself into the folding chair next to Pope who was reading a book.

“You should have just offered John B. half of it to protect you from JJ.” He stated matter of factly.

You thought about it for a second. “This is why you’re the smart one.” You finally said.

“I know.” Pope agreed.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @hernameisnoell @moonrisebeach @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @railmerafe

#Maybank!Reader #JJ Maybank #JJ Maybank's Sister #John B x reader #john b routledge #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

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9tzuyu · 4 years ago

Text

four months.

note: hiiiii! just trying to get into the groove again. i dont know what this is. the original prompt is below, however it did not turn out that way?¿ its kind of a mess, but fluffy i suppose. i hope you enjoy :>.

using my own experience so don’t think i hate poor people because i am those people </3

(also chapter 4 of children of tragedy will be out soon, i promise. ive just had awful writers block.)

+ thank you moli for proofreading so i dont have to. i love you.

warnings: none?

prompt: * reader used to be poor and stuff and w/n is like “you know you don’t have to get the cheapest things” and R covers it up and says “oh this is the brand i like, but w/n discovers hidden receipts and asks why they have a bunch of useless receipt and R is like “i was just tracking how much we spend....”

🏷 @natasha-danvers @midnight-lestrange @whatiziz @kermy48 @mycosmicparadise @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (lmk if you want off the tag list because ik i dont post as regularly as other writers, so im just going with people who have told me they want to be on my tag list in the past)

and lastly, for my baby @nermalina. its not really your genre per se [ i have a smut fic that i’ll dt you on ;)] however, accept this as a form of love.

it wasn’t so much that you were homeless and out on the streets, but you weren’t necessarily well off either. working as a waitress only got you far enough to pay your monthly rent and gas. somehow you managed to squeeze in a list of groceries.

every penny counted, you didn’t have room for mishaps or sick days. thats why you kept your budget small and a stash full of receipts on the kitchen bar.

natasha didn’t know about any of this though. you were sure she’d have you by the neck if she found out how long you’d been keeping your secret.

the redhead was generous, and no matter how many times you offered to pay for something she would never even dream of letting you. natasha insisted on it, and you were powerless to stop her.

it wasn’t until you tagged along with her on a trip to the grocery store when things began to unravel. she only needed a few things, nothing important.

but nat was quick to pick up on the fact that you continuously flipped every little thing you picked up to look at the price tag.

“here, it’s the cheapest one i could find.” you said, smiling as you handed her a cardboard box of pasta. natasha hummed, “you know you don’t have to get me the cheapest thing on the shelf.”

you bit your lip, eyes suddenly looking back at the shelf of different pasta boxes. “i know... it’s just- it’s my favorite brand.” natasha automatically knew you were lying by the way you began chewing on the inside of your lip.

she narrowed her eyes. “no it’s not.”

“huh?”

“you got this brand because it was the cheapest. you know i can afford more, which leads me to believe you do this out of habit.”

you shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze. “no, i just really like that brand.”

the sudden realization that she had never been to your place struck her.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“why don’t we go back to your apartment after this? we can just relax, watch a movie, do whatever you want.”

a mix of guilt and shame flooded your body. but damned if you didn’t still give it a try.

“my apartment’s a mess right now, you don’t want to see that.” you tried, offering a small, dry laugh in hopes of getting her off your back.

“you’re a terrible liar.”

“i’m not-”

“i picked you up from the park today, just like every other day. i’ve not once picked you up from your own apartment, so what are you hiding?”

when you didn’t give an answer, she tossed the cheapest box of pasta in her cart and walked away. you groaned as you watched natasha leave before catching up to her.

“okay, okay, we can go back to my apartment. just don’t judge me, alright?”

she smiled softly, “it wouldn’t even cross my mind.”

soon enough you began helping your girlfriend load her car with bags full of miscellaneous items. nothing needed to be refrigerated, so if natasha wanted to, she could stay at your apartment all day.

your leg bounced in the car as you gave her directions. but soon enough, after what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, natasha pulled into a parking space right outside your door.

you silently cursed yourself for not renting a spot upstairs. at least then it would’ve prolonged the situation just a little bit longer.

natasha watched as you fumbled with your keys, your hands visibly shaking.

“fuck.” you mumbled after hearing the clank of metal hit the ground. you bent down to pick them up but natasha beat you to it.

“which key?” her voice was soft.

“the yellow one.”

the door swung open and you motioned for natasha to go before you.

it wasn’t bad, really. apart from the chipped brown walls, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke (you hated your neighbors for that), the broken windows, lack of space and furniture that was as good as the floor.

natasha noticed the windows first, a sense of protectiveness overpowering her. she didn’t like that you weren’t safe.

you went to offer her a water bottle, but she wasn’t paying attention. instead, she noticed the lack of food in your fridge, frowning when you tried to cover it up.

another few minutes of her silence went by and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“look, i know you’re rich. i know you like to have luxury brands and that you don’t have to worry about whether or not someone will break in and steal what little you have left. but that doesn’t give you any right to judge me. i’m sorry i don’t live up to your expectations.”

natasha licked her lips and leaned her back against the kitchen counter.

“how long have you lived like this?”

her question caught you off guard, but you managed to find an answer.

“i’ve always lived like this, nat.”

she nodded solemnly before abruptly turning around to look at what was inside your cabinets.

“what are you do-”

“you have no food.”

you sighed, “well yeah, i can’t really afford it.”

“and the receipts?”

natasha was met with a shrug. “have to keep track of everything somehow.”

she stared at you a minute longer before finding the exact words she wanted to say.

“i would never judge you, or anyone for that matter, on their living situation. i know people don’t always have a say in what or why things happen.” she paused. “but i don’t like knowing you go to sleep every night with broken windows practically inviting anyone to come in and intrude. i don’t like knowing all you have to eat is bread, canned fruit and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

you listened to her ramble on, still nervous about the fact that this was new to her.

“so come live with me.”

“natasha-”

“come live with me.”

you immediately shook your head. “no, no, no. nat don’t even-”

“i’m serious. you won't win this argument, y/n. let me take care of you. i don't mind picking you up and dragging you out of here myself if that’s what it takes.”

a sigh left your lips as you folded your arms across your chest. “natasha, i can’t have you do that. i’m okay, i promise.”

the redhead raised her eyebrow. “how many times have you gone to bed hungry? or let your car run on fumes for as long as you could? and how many times have you gone to work sick because you can’t afford to miss one single day?”

when natasha was met with no reply she moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her embrace.

“i know it’s only been four months but i don’t think i could ever forgive myself if something happened to you and i didn’t do enough to stop it.”

she kissed the side of your head, “let me take care of you.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

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strangelysamantha · 3 years ago

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cheerleader ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: swearing, flirting, slight angst in the beginning (barely)

words: 2,365.

summary: rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

request? no :)

a/n: please like and comment if you enjoy! thank you, ilysm <3

my masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

most things rafe wanted, he easily got. it was a known fact. his parents were financially stable so they could afford to throw money down the drain for useless items that wouldn’t be used more than once. his popularity and name allowed him to get away with most things. except you. you seemed to not care about his wealth or his looks. you didn’t even care to give him the time of day. he took this as a challenge. he was destined to get you to like him if it was the last thing he did.

the first time he talked to you was during school. he thought his charm and popularity would make you swoon. instead, it was quite the opposite. he approached you at your locker, his smile bright. “hey. i’m rafe.” he extended his hand out to you. “hello, rafe.” you shake his hand back, before retreating your hand to your side. you stare at him in confusion. “uhm am i in the way of your locker?” you question, he shakes his head. “oh no, actually. i just wanted to introduce myself to you.” you nod your head. “well rafe, it was nice to meet you, i guess. but i’m running late for class.” you shut your locker, speeding off to class.

rafe stayed by your locker in awe. you really thought rafe was just waiting to get to his locker? it’s halfway through the school year, if his locker was by yours, you would have known by now. he embarrassingly walked away, heading to his first class. that awkward moment was lingering in his head, stuck on replay. your facial expression that showcased confusion stayed still in his mind. by third hour he was over it, not as embarrassed. he shrugged it off, excited to try again.

rafe actually didn’t know that much about you. he saw you in the halls occasionally. his interest in you peaked when he saw that you talked to topper a lot. since you were heavily associated with topper, he believed that it would be easy to befriend you. it’s clear to him now that isn’t the case. he can’t help but feel surprised at your lack of knowledge for him. everyone knows of rafe, and you should especially know because of how well you know topper.

regardless, rafe knew what he had to do. he needed to see topper, and investigate him. rafe pulled his phone out, texting topper to meet him.

topper met rafe in the boy’s bathroom before fourth period. they scoped the bathroom, ensuring to themselves that they could openly talk since they were alone. rafe didn’t hesitate, he immediately bombarded topper with questions about you. “what’s with the sudden interest?” topper asks, confused.

“i don’t know, i keep seeing her in the hallway and she stares at me.” topper nods, “well she does good academically, i know her because her family is friends with my family, she’s on the cheerleading team, i don’t know man. what info are you wanting?” the cheerleading team. rafe smiled to himself, you are a cheerleader. “that’s good enough, i just needed some info so i could know if i want to meet her or not.” topper laughed, “alright man. i gotta go.” rafe nodded, “see you later.” topper fist bumped rafe before walking out the bathroom.

you were a cheerleader? he had no clue. it dawned on him, if he had no idea of who you were, why would you know who he was? he shook his head at the thought, instead heading to class.

on the other side of the school sat you, fidgeting with your pencil as you struggled to keep up with the current notes. the interaction you had with rafe was confusing you. why did he suddenly want to meet you? it didn’t make sense. the whole class period you tried to wrap your brain around his actions, trying to figure out what his intention was, but you fell short.

at lunch time you sat at a table, you usually sat with friends but they were absent. it didn’t help they were absent the one day someone popular randomly takes an interest in you. you sit on the chair, pulling out your math homework. if you knocked it out at lunch, you had a high chance of not having homework. you start the first problem, but immediately halt when your family friend, topper, taps on your shoulder. “hi tops.” you smile softly at him, setting your pencil down and turning your attention to him. he smiles at you, “hey.”

you pick up a goldfish, plopping it into your mouth. “how have you been?” you question topper. he shrugs, “same old same old. family is still upset with me, per usual.” you nod, soaking up what he said. “dang, that sucks. it’s so annoying how people hold grudges. they don’t know how to forgive and forget.” you shrug, smiling up at him. he returns the smile, “i know right.” you place your homework back in your bag, assuming you wouldn’t be able to finish it during lunch.

“what did you even do?” you ask him. he smiles, “uh i accidentally pissed a pogue off so they got revenge by sinking my new boat.” your eyes widened, “what! holy shit you must have fucked up bad.” he frowns, “i didn’t really want to do it, you know how tricky it is with our reputation and who we have to associate with.” you laugh, “oh i know all too well of what that’s like.” topper rolls his eyes, assuming you’re talking about him.

“hey! i’m not too bad.” you laugh, “it wasn’t about you. you aren’t bad at all.” you look up, seeing rafe take his backpack off. you glance at topper to see he is confused as well. “hey rafe, what’s up?” topper questions rafe, who had just sat down at our table. “nothing much man, saw you over here and decided to join.” you laugh sarcastically, “inviting yourself to our private party?” you question, slightly joking. rafe felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy when you grouped yourself and topper together.

“i’m just kidding rafe… kind of.” you grin, topper joining in by chuckling with you. rafe awkwardly laughs along. he pulls himself together, thinking of things to say. “are you going to the football game tomorrow?” rafe waits for your response. you smile slightly, “yeah, but i’m a cheerleader so i’ll be on field.” he nods, “oh, that’s cool.” you nod awkwardly. “yeah.” he smiles subconsciously, excited to see you in a uniform. his smile disintegrates when topper confronts him. “what are you smiling for bro?” rafe stared at him, unamused. “nothing.” topper scoffs, “alright then.”

you steal looks between rafe and topper, still confused. you don’t ask any questions, you just continue eating your food. the bell rings, indicating that lunch is over. you gather up your trash, standing up. you notice rafes eyes lingering over your body. his eyes fixating between your thick thighs, and hips. you feel self conscious under his stare, so you quickly stand up and walk to the trash can. rafe follows after you, quick on his feet. he comes up to your side, much to your dismay.

“will i see you at the game tomorrow?” you turn your head to the side, “are you going to the game?” you return. he nods, “yeah.” you smile, “then you’ll probably see me.” he grins, “okay, cool.” he quickly turns around, leaving you by yourself. you were confused still, but hey, maybe having rafe as a friend would be good.

you got through the day quickly, heading immediately home. you work on homework, chores, and finally get ready for bed. before bed you prepare your uniform. you set it out, along with a jacket so you weren’t on full display at school. you wake up the next morning, putting on your uniform, along with a bow in your hair. you head to school, slightly nervous for your possible interaction with rafe.

when you arrive at school, you don’t see rafe. you only saw topper, who was eagerly heading in your direction. he smiled, standing still in front of you. “hey, good morning!” you smile, “hi tops.” the two of you talk for a bit, him walking you to class. “can i pick you up before the game?” topper asks. “sure, it has to be a little earlier than the fans. i have warm ups and stuff i have to do before the game.” he grins, “okay! just text me tonight when you want me to pick you up.” you put your hands in your jacket pocket. “okay, thanks topper!”

he walks away, and you walk into your first hour class. you go through your classes as usual, rafe not showing up. you couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or relieved, but either way it didn’t matter, you had a game you had to prepare for. you do your make up, and touch up your hair. you chug water, and began stretching. you text topper, saying he could pick you up now, if he still wanted to drive you. his response was quick and enthusiastic.

topper pulls up to your house, his music loud, and a large smile plastered on his face. “game day!!” you laugh along, repeating his words. “game day!” you open his door, hopping inside. “let’s go!” you playfully roll your eyes at his eagerness, “to the school!” topper smirks, stepping on the gas, and speeding out your driveway.

the two of you sing along to the songs on the radio, before it abruptly ends due to you two arriving at the school. he decides to stay in his car, planning on joining right when the official game starts. you skip down the field, joining your teammates. you stretch with them, before you practice the chants and dance numbers.

at six thirty, they start allowing people in. you immediately see topper hunched over the fence, him waving frantically at you. you wave back, jogging over to him. “you ready?” he asks, you bite your lip, “i guess.” he laughs at your nerves, excited for you. you glance over and see rafe. he hadn’t seen you yet. your breath gets caught in your throat, slightly scared and self conscious to see him.

topper gives you reassuring words, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice rafe had found you. rafe slowly makes his way towards topper, keeping his cool. rafe stares at you in your cheerleading uniform. his breath gets heavy, he stares, watching you talk to topper. jealously fills his chest, of course topper was here first. rafe quickly approached the two of you, eager to break the conversation up.

“hi rafe.” you smile softly, looking up at him. he smiles, “hey. good luck today.” you fiddle with your fingers, “thank you.” rafe stays silent. you hear the coaches whistle. “i got to go, i’ll talk to you when i can!” you quickly turn around, jogging back to the cheerleading circle.

rafe watches as you jog away, hes mesmerized by how well the uniform fit. he knew you would look good, but damn. he looks over at topper, who makes eye contact with him. “what’s up rafe?” topper stares at rafe, waiting for an explanation. “she is so hot.” topper scoffs, “bro, already whipped?” rafe rolls his eyes, but grins. “for her, yeah. i’d willingly be whipped.” the two boys sit on the bench, topper watching the game, and rafe watching you.

after sitting in silence, rafe speaks up. “do you think she likes me?” topper quickly glances at rafe, trying to see if he was joking or if he was serious. when topper saw he was serious, he genuinely contemplated it. “id say maybe, i mean she doesn’t shrivel up in disgust when you are around. that’s a pretty good sign.” rafe shook his head, “that’s true. that is a good sign.”

rafe admired you, you getting his full attention. on break you rush to the fence, excited to see rafe and topper. “hey!” you look up at them, “you are doing great!” topper reached down, highfiving you. “thanks!” you look over at rafe, something took you over because he actually looked hot. you bit you lip slightly, you were going to say something, but rafe beat you to it. “you look good.” rafe smirked slightly, causing heat to rise to your face. “thank you, rafe.”

you return to the group again, your heart racing. the idea of rafe made your breath heavy. you continue to chant, and preform. you occasionally looked up rafe, his eyes always focused on you. you had a low chance of being able to go to the fence again, so you focused entirely on perfecting the choreography. the crowd was cheering loudly, your hometown winning the game.

at the final quarter, your hometown won by one point. your team jumps up and down, ecstatic. you preform a final show, before you break apart. you chug water. you rush in line with the other cheerleaders, going in a straight line to high-five the football players. you smile brightly at them, telling them congrats for winning the game. most of them returned a smile, and thanked you.

after the bleachers started to empty, you decided to meet up with topper, and possibly rafe. you look around for topper but he was gone. you turn around, accidentally bumping into rafe. “oh i’m sorry.” he stares at you, “hey, by the way topper left, said he was going on a date with a girl from the cheer team.” you frown, “oh. he was my ride.” rafe smiles, “you can ride me- i mean ride with me.” you laugh lightly at his switch up, “okay. i’ll ride you.” your heart is racing, the after game adrenaline flowing through your veins, which was causing you to be bold. he smirks at you, “okay, i’d enjoy that.” you mimic his smirk, following him to his car.

he turns around, “are you sure?” you nod, “i’m sure, are you?” he is shocked by your question, “so fucking sure.”

part two will be steamy <3

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink.

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.”

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said.

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him.

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said.

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom.

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back.

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen.

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly.

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said.

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said.

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away.

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said.

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?”

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said.

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands.

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down.

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch.

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile.

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said.

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said.

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing.

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad.

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet.

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said.

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand.

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked.

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you.

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

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