#gonna be coming back and writing full fics and mini series soon

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

.

#im still so emotional about people recommending my fics omg #like i feel so honoured omg #and as i was rereading some of my old fics 😭 #i have realised i have improved in my writinv so much #which i am very proud of and i will keep becoming better for y'all #thank you for reading all my fics y'all #a big hug and kisses from aera <33 #gonna be coming back and writing full fics and mini series soon #till then #hope y'all will lile the short headcanonns i release^^ #ONCE AGAIN #THANK YALL!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

I Will Find You in the Dark Ch. 6

Series Summary: Dean and Julie's story continues through turbulent times in the Winchester's life. Can Dean and Julie survive through it all? Can their love survive?

Chapter Summary: Now that they have the demon chained up, can they cure him and bring their Dean back?

Pairings: Dean x OFC (Julie) Established Relationship

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence throughout. Smut throughout. More detailed chapter warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Show level violence, Demon!Dean (with all that his black eyes bring with them), Demon!Dean being cruel for the fun of it, threatening behavior, mentions of pregnancy, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 3,433

Series Masterlist

A/N:  The sixth chapter in the sequel to my fic, Green is My Favorite Color I strongly suggest that you read that one first, since there will be references made to it throughout this sequel. Also, I suggest you read the Dean and Julie Mini-Series I wrote as a bridge between that fic and this one. (The Mini-series’ title is a bit of a spoiler for the original series, so I won’t post it here, but it can be found here.) I had a lot of fun writing that original series, and the mini-series, and certainly hope those who read and enjoyed those, enjoy this sequel. 💓

The beautiful dividers below and at the end were created by @talesmaniac89 ❤️ Title card was created by me.

The room was dark when Julie opened her eyes; they couldn’t adjust fast enough, and she sat up with a cry of fear.

“Easy, Julie.” She recognized Cas’ voice just before he turned on a bedside lamp. She looked at him in confusion, her brain refusing to fill in the blanks. 

“Cas?” She asked stupidly.

But the angel seemed to understand that his name alone was encompassing a myriad of questions that were chasing themselves around inside her head. Though he still seemed baffled occasionally, he’d come very far in understanding the way humans’ minds worked. 

“You’re safe.” He informed her in his deep angelic voice. “You’re in your room, and I’ve healed you completely.”

She shook her head. “Healed me from what?” But as soon as the question was asked, everything came flooding back into her mind.

***

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was loud and full of fear. He slapped his brother’s cheek hard, and Julie put a hand over her mouth to stifle her own terror at Dean’s ashen, sweaty face. 

Good god, we have actually killed him. She thought as bile rushed up her throat.

But after another slap, Dean sucked in a deep breath and let out a low groan. Sam let out the breath he’d been holding, and Julie felt the relief flood her, as tears ran down her cheeks. She dashed them away quickly, not wanting to give the demon in Dean’s soul more ammunition for his cruelty.

“Come on, come back to us.” Sam said as he gave his brother a bit of a shake. “You okay?” 

Dean raised his head slowly, and seemingly painfully, as he mumbled out his answer. “You call drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils okay, then yeah, I’m okay.”

Sam stood up and moved out of the devil’s trap and back to the table that held the syringes full of purified blood. 

“Look,” Sam told him with regret in his voice, “I can’t stop doing this.” 

“Sure you can - just stop!” Dean said, anger lacing his exhaustion now. “It’s too late to get your brother back. He’s long gone. But I’m liking the new model.” His gaze swiveled to Julie and he gave her a smirk. “Lean, mean, Dean.” He nodded towards her. “You’d like him a lot, sweetheart.” 

“No thanks.” Julie told him coldly. “My husband’s gonna be back anytime now.” 

Dean chuckled roughly. “That what you think? Huh? That he’s just gonna stroll back into your life? Well, I’ve got news for you, this asinine plan of yours isn’t gonna work. So, you’re either gonna have a demon husband, or a dead one.”

He shook his head at her.  “I don’t know why you’d want that pussy back anyway.” His gaze was lustful as he scanned her body from head to toe. “Promise you I’d be a lot more fun.”

When Julie remained silent, he let out a bark of harsh laughter. “Yeah, what am I thinking? I’m talking to the girl who waited around for years, for whatever scraps I threw her way. No matter how many times I walked away, you’d just be sitting there begging like a good little bitch, every time I came back.”

He tilted his head and his voice dripped with disdain. “Pathetic and weak.”

His penetrating stare was only broken as Sam stabbed another needle into his arm, making him scream in rage and pain. Sam tossed the syringe back onto the table, and hustled Julie out of the room, pulling her down the hallway far enough that she could no longer hear Dean’s grunts and growls.

She covered her face and leaned against the wall, thumping her head onto the hard tile. She shook her head and then pulled her hands down to look at Sam.

“What are we doing to him, Sam? What if we are killing him? He said it felt like his blood was boiling?” Her face was stricken. “I mean, what the hell?”

Sam let out a deep breath and scrubbed his big hand over the scruff that grew on his cheeks. “I know, Julie, but…” He shrugged, his expression as helpless as his tone. “What’s our other alternative? This is the only solution to get Dean back.”

Julie felt tears gather as her frustration and heartbreak overflowed. She nodded sadly and dropped her head. “I know.” She said in a whisper.

Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna call Cas again, and see how far out he is, and I’m gonna go unlock the door for him.” He pointed a finger at Julie as he put the phone to his ear. “Don’t go in there.”

Julie nodded and Sam’s long stride carried him away quickly so that she only heard him ask Cas. “Man, how far are you? We need you.” Then his voice was gone and there was just the quiet hum of air vents and machinery in the walls.

Julie ran a protective hand over the baby bump that seemed to get rounder every day. “He’s coming back, sweet pea, I swear it. Your daddy is gonna love you when he gets to meet you.” She was determined it would be true. 

A couple of minutes ticked by before she heard it. Dean’s voice - and it was scared.

“Jules?”

She stood staring towards the light spilling from the door until he called again, his voice slightly louder and laced with pain.

“Jules!”

She rushed to the doorway to see Dean slumped over once again. As she watched, his face spasmed in pain, and he lifted his head slightly. Relief washed over his face when he saw her. “Jules.” He groaned deeply and she came into the room. 

He looked at his tied up hands and then back to her. His expression was all confusion. “I don’t…what’s going on?” Again pain seemed to wrack his body for a moment; he gritted his teeth against the onslaught before he slumped over, deathly still.

Julie’s eyes widened and she ran up to just outside the devil’s trap. “Dean!” She called out to him, but he didn’t answer. Her eyes held panic as she looked down at his chest, but it wasn’t moving.

She ran up to him and lifted his head in her two hands, as Sam had. She tried smacking his cheek, and shaking him slightly, but he didn’t respond. 

“Dean!” She screamed in horror. 

And faster than she could blink his eyes opened, coal black, and he snapped the ropes that held him, reaching out and getting a vice grip around her throat. He pulled her in close to his face and grinned.

“Pathetic and weak.” 

Giving her a shake, he raised her up above his head and walked out of the devil’s trap with a grimace. She saw the demon cuffs dangling from the arms of the chair just before he slammed her against the wall, still outstretched in his hand.

He shook his head. “Good god, you are a sap. And I always thought you were so smart.” He shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.” He raised his free hand to scratch his chin in thought. “Now that I’ve got my hands on you, what am I gonna do with you?”

Julie felt the increasing pressure he was exerting on her windpipe, and she began clawing at the back of his hand, but he ignored her like she was an annoying fly, simply grabbing her right arm and slamming it beside her head on the wall. 

Her free hand still clutched at his wrist as though she had any hope of loosening his grip. “Dean.” She croaked out. “Dean, please.”

He just chuckled as his black eyes stared into her and his grip tightened on her throat and arm. “You know, I could snap your neck with nothing but a flick of my wrist. Humans’ bones snap so easy. See?” 

Julie screamed a choked and almost silent scream as he twisted her arm slightly and she felt the bone break. Pain radiated through her body. But panic was setting in quickly to overshadow it, as her vision began to blur and her lungs began to ache. 

“I could kill you right now.” Dean’s voice was low, almost soothing.

Julie closed her eyes, shutting out the monster’s face, and conjuring Dean’s image into her mind; his sparkling emerald eyes and the way they grew warm when he looked at her; the soft smile he wore in the mornings when she woke him with a kiss, the silky way his lips felt against hers when he kissed her back. 

If she was going to die, she wanted her husband’s beautiful face to be the last thing she saw.

The last thing she heard before blacking out was the demon making his decision. “N’ah, you might be fun later. I’ll kill my brother first.”

She felt her body hit the ground, and then everything went dark.

***

As the memories flooded her mind, Julie turned frantic eyes on Cas. “Where’s Sam, what…what happened?” 

Cas patted her shoulder. “He’s fine, he’s fine. I got here in time to stop Dean, and we got him back into the devil’s trap, and the demon cuffs. Sam is about to give him the last injection. Then we’ll know.”

Julie rubbed a hand over her belly, her body shaking slightly from shock and worry. “Is the baby…?” She couldn’t finish the question, but Cas answered quickly.

“He’s just fine. His heartbeat was a bit fast for a while, but it’s returned to normal and his brain and organ functions are all what they should be.”

Julie looked up at the angel with a soft smile of relief. “He?”

Cas looked guilty for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

Julie shook her head though. “No, it’s okay. We couldn’t tell the last time we went to the doctor, but I wanted to know.”

Rubbing her belly, she breathed in deep and long. Then she stood up.

“Whoa, Julie, you should rest.” Cas admonished. 

But Julie just shook her head. “No. You healed me right?” Cas nodded reluctantly. “Then I need to be there. I need to see if after all of this, Dean comes back to us.”

***

Dean sat in their bedroom, leaning against the headboard and looking around the room at all the pictures Julie had put up on the walls, as well as on every flat surface in the room.  They were pictures of the two of them, sometimes alone together in the frame, and sometimes showing their arms slung around Sam or Cas, Benny or Charlie. Without fail every one of them showed Julie beaming out at him.

And every time he looked at them, the vision of Julie’s terrified face staring down at him as he squeezed the life from her, replaced her smile in his mind. He dropped his head into his hands and felt the deep gnawing pit in his stomach grow larger.

Suddenly the door opened gently and Julie’s head poked through the crack. Her smile was soft and questioning. “Hey.” 

Dean was shocked to see her, but he stood up quickly. “Sorry, I’ll go.” 

But before he could make it to the door, Julie walked through and pushed it closed behind her, leaning against it. She shook her head. “Please don’t go. I wanted to see you.” She reached towards his cheek. “I missed you.”

But Dean stepped back, his heart constricting. “Julie…” He stared at the ground, unable to look at her. “Don’t do this.”

Even without looking, he could see the way her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

He turned his back on her and went to stand and stare at the weapons mounted on the wall. They made him frown now. Why had he put these here? Why did he fill their bedroom with weapons of war?

Cause you're a killer, and a monster, of course. Said the voice in his head. That’s all you know.

When he answered, his voice was rough with tears he refused to shed; he didn’t deserve to cry about his sins. “Julie, you can’t just pretend none of this happened. You can’t just…” He turned back to face her, but kept his gaze averted. “You can’t just forgive me.”

Julie was quiet a moment, before she responded, annoyance in her tone. “I don’t think you actually get a say in whether I forgive you or not.” She shrugged in his peripheral vision. “But the fact of the matter is, there’s nothing to forgive. It wasn’t you.”

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “It was me, Julie. That’s the whole problem. No one possessed me, no one had control of me. It was all just my own fucked up, black soul.”

Dean could see Julie was shaking her head the whole time, barely letting him get the end of his sentence out before she was contradicting him. 

“That’s simply not true. It was the mark, it twisted your soul, made your heart go black. But the mark isn’t you, it’s not who you really are. It’s a dark, evil thing, and it leached into you.” 

She walked up to stand directly in front of him, putting her hands on his forearms. Dean turned his head further to the side, desperate not to look at her. He didn’t want to see her compassion, her certainty that he was good; he couldn’t take the forgiveness in her features. 

“Dean,” she said softly, but sure, “I know who you are, the real you, and that black eyed thing wasn’t you. It was like an infection, and now you’re healed.”

Dean stared at the ground again. “Not that simple.” He mumbled.

“Of course it is.” Julie argued, stubborn as always. “It. Wasn’t. You.” She said in a staccato rhythm. 

“But I remember when it was.” He said, his voice a mere croak.

Finally Dean looked up at her, seeing her beautiful face properly for the first time since she’d entered, and he swallowed over and over to rid his throat of the lump of unshed tears that grew there. 

Dean was determined to make her understand. “I remember everything. Every moment. I remember every cruel, hateful word.” His jaw clenched tightly. “I remember the feeling of your arm breaking in my hand. I remember your scream, and the way panic filled your eyes, all the fear and terror, I remember it.” 

Julie dashed away her tears angrily. “I know -”

“But mostly I remember the feeling of absolute glee I felt watching you struggle, hearing you choke…” He broke off, shoving his fingers through his hair and turning away again. His hatred of his own body and soul made him reach up and rake his hands down the wall, smashing weapons to the ground, clearing the way for him to deliver two solid punches to the wall, breaking his knuckles against the stone.

“Dean!” Julie yelled out, rushing towards him, but he sank down on the bed. 

“Please, Julie.” He looked up at her, knowing that he was begging. “Please don’t act like nothing happened. I hurt you, badly. Broke your bones, considered ending your life.” His voice was desperate and strained. 

He glanced down at the bump that showed through her flowy shirt “I put them in danger.” His mind ran away from that train of thought, simply too horrified to examine it for the moment. 

Instead he continued trying to make her understand the truth. “I lied to you, tricked you, used your love against you. I said horrible, awful things to you.” He paused, and his mind rebelled at his next words too, but they were also the truth and needed to be spoken. 

“I cheated on you.” 

His voice was a whisper as he looked into her eyes again, and saw the pain that truth caused her. Whatever she may say, he knew that it mattered, that his sins and transgressions couldn’t be overlooked or brushed aside. 

Julie tried to hide her hurt with a raised chin and a stubborn glint in her eye. “I’m aware of everything the demon did.”

“The demon WAS me, Julie! For Christ’s sake, why can’t you see that?” He yelled at her.

Julie’s careful façade began to crumble, as pain swept across her features, and tears overflowed her lashes. Instinctively, Dean reached for her; desperate to stop them. He took her face in his hands, but her tears fell too fast and too hard for him to swipe them all away.

“I know what happened.” Julie choked out. “I know all the horrible things that have happened over the last two months. Do you think I don’t know?” Julie shook her head and pulled away and straightened up, throwing her arms up.

“I have had a really awful couple months, and today was one of the worst days of my life.” She sniffed, and scrubbed her face with her hands. “Some asshole demon really hurt me, and I was really scared.”

She cleared her throat and walked back up to where he sat on the bed. Reaching behind him, she pulled a small metal disk from where it hung on the wall and, taking his unbroken hand in hers, she set the worn and battered talisman there. The old piece of jewelry looked much different than it had when he’d given it to her nearly eighteen years earlier. But it still held the magic of their love and he gripped it tightly in his hand as he looked up at her.

She ran a hand down his cheek and he shivered. “I’ve had a really shitty few months recently. So, I’d really like to just be here with my best friend. And I’d like my husband to hold me, and tell me that things will be alright.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean everything will be fine today, or even tomorrow. But I need him to tell me that they will be, eventually. That we’ll pull through this like we always do.”

Dean closed his eyes as his need to comfort her, to hold her and reassure her, warred with his guilt and his fear of the mark that was still etched into his arm. 

Finally he opened his eyes and let his tears fall at last, hoping they would tell her that he was more sorry than he could ever express. “Julie, I swore I would never leave you, and I won’t.” He shook his head. “But you have to promise me that when you want me to leave, you’ll tell me. Tell me to go.”

Julie shook her head. “That will never happen.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly, opening them again to peer up into her sunshine face, always his brightest spot; even now trying to lift him out of darkness with her unceasing light.

“Jules.” He said in a broken voice, filled with both awe and shame. “I’ve done nothing to deserve you.” The awe was there because he simply couldn’t understand her love, and the shame was because he knew that, in fact, he didn’t deserve it. 

“I’ve told you a hundred times - you’re my hero, Dean Winchester. Plain and simple” Julie’s voice was clogged with tears.

Dean shook his head. He would never understand her, but he believed her. And he loved her - needed her - so much.

So, he pulled her down into his lap, and held her close. He shifted them back against the headboard and tightened his grip a little more, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and running his hand through her hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Dean took a deep, steadying breath, and then moved his hand down to spread across Julie’s belly. His voice was whisper soft. “So, I’m gonna be a dad?” The word alone conjured up contradictory feelings of excitement and complete terror.

Julie nodded softly and moved his hand a little lower. “Try talking to him, he likes voices. You might be able to feel him move.”

Dean’s gaze shot to hers. “He?”

Julie nodded and gave him a watery smile. “So Cas says.”

Dean felt a warm place start to grow in his battered heart right alongside the cold fear. But his mind’s eye conjured up the vision of a curly-headed little guy with big brown eyes, toddling around the bunker and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’m gonna need to build him a yard, and a playground. He can’t stay in the bunker all the time. But it’s gonna need to be heavily warded, and protected.” He nodded with conviction. “But we can do it.” 

He looked into Julie’s tear-stained face, gripping the talisman tight in his fist, and promised. “We can do it.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x ofc #dean x julie #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic series

[tonberry-yoda]

What do u think of each of your anons and which is most likely going to stick around till the end (in your opinion)

OMG I LOVE THIS QUESTION!

So, for the record, I wanted to start of with two things: 1.) I really need to clean out my anons because a lot of them aren't around anymore/appeared once and never came back so I should maybe clean it soon but idk and 2.) I love all of my anons so so so so much so this answer is gonna be full of so much love omg

Alright, let's get it!

♡ anon

So, there's a really funny story behind heart anon. I had two for the longest time and didn't even know it. Soon, I found out who both of the accounts were and it was all figured out. The second heart anon has not been on tumblr for a very long time, so I have not heard from them, but am wishing them the best. But the first heart anon just uses their account on here now and I love them so so so so much and they might be the one to stick around till the end because they were such a big part of me starting tumblr <3

🌻 anon

Another account I know! She is so so so so so sweet, but always so busy so she is rarely here on tumblr, but when she is, she is nothing but supportive!

🚁 anon

I LOVE HELICOPTER ANON SO MUCH OMFG! They come on here with nothing but love and enthusiasm and if not for them, I wouldn't have my papa croc series which is one that I love so much! I love how excited they are and overall love when I see them on here! I have a feeling that they'll be here till the end <3

🌸 anon

They were one of my number one supporters and always so sweet. I know their account as well, but they haven't been on here in a super long time, so I hope they're well <3

🗡️ anon

I think this anon requested one time, but never came back lol. I don't know anything about this anon fdkjljkldf

spain anon

They were here a lot when I was writing for Helluva Boss/Hazbin, but did fade out because they were very young and I was not comfortable with writing for younger readers. They were nothing but sweet though, but that's just not what I want my audience to be, especially since I am an adult and turned 19 recently

🦝 anon

Pretty much the same situation as spain anon. They were a younger reader of mine, but when I said that I didn't want to write for young kids, they vanished

💐 anon

Literally same situation as sword anon LMFAO

👾 anon

Such a lovely anon oh my goodness. They don't come here as often due to how busy they are, but they have been a big supporter of mine and my work so I love when I see them! I feel like they'll be here till the end fr <3

ladder anon

They aren't on here often to send just little asks, but here to request and when they do OMFG they have some of the best requests and ask for characters I don't often write for but love to write! they are super sweet and I love having them here to write for!

Pepaw Salazar Simp Anon

Came in my inbox one time to make a silly joke and I haven't seen them since, but I am sending them so much love because they make me laugh so hard

rat anon

I think rat anon is another one that'll be here for a while! They come to ask for smooches and I write mini fics for them! They always make me smile and always somehow help me out of a writer's block <3

🍥 anon

honestly, I don't really remember this... I think they asked to be an anon once and then I haven't seen them for a while

🐉 anon

Hasn't been here long, but I love when they come in my inbox! They have a lot of the same opinions as I do and we get in pretty cool discussions! They are nothing but sweet and even after we disagreed with some things, they understood and were very kind! I hope they stay for a while because I love having them here!

☁️ anon

I know that they want my requests open LMFAO but other than that, they are super sweet and have been nothing but kind! I hope to see them when requests open and more in the future

🌈 anon

I feel like they're gonna be here for a while. They are so so so so kind and sweet and make sure to ask how I'm doing and I really appreciate them for that! I am more than happy to have them here and they never fail to make me smile

👽 anon

very sweet when they are here! they haven't shown up a lot since they joined, but I love to have them!

🦔 anon

Oh, this is definitely an anon that is staying I hope. They are so so so sweet and I love chatting with them. I know their account, so we DM each other every once and a while and simp over Miguel LMFAOO I love having them here and I hope they are one that stays!

💤 anon

Same as alien anon

✨ anon

Very new and I haven't seen a lot of them, but they are sweet!

If you're one of my older anons and you don't wanna be cleaned out, lmk! I love all of my anons and hope to see more of you around <3

#tonberry answers #asks #anon

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

AHH I SAW YOUR RESPONSE AND I THOUGHT I HAD MAYBEEEEEE RELAXED FROM UNHINGED INNIE... SPOILER i didn't because i literally wanted to start screaming bc all the thoughts went through my head again. Unhinged jeongin has me feeling EVERYTHING. i'm literally going through the 5 stages of grief, and then i'm happy and then i'm sad, and you bet your ass i'm fucking SCARED. UGH I LOVE DARK CONTENT LIKE THIS. he is so scary hot, as you said THE BEST KIND OF HOT. too hot actually.

INNIE LOVERS UNITE!!! IM ACTUALLY SO OBSESSED WITH HIM AND SPECIFICALLY YOUR WAY OF WRITING HIM. UGHHHH i'm so excited for the 3rd part!! GOOD LUCK WITH WRITING IT ALL !! head full, too many thoughts as they say. I literally have your notifs on because i NEED to know when you update your blog FOR ANYTHING not even just jeongin ! my head is empty, just jeongin. i believe it is time for me to read a few of the other members jealousy is/goodnight moon series.. SO YOU CAN EXPECT TO COME STRAIGHT BACK INTO THIS ASK BOX !! it's my permanent residence now :3

i feel so honored to have my own heart tag :< i literally have your notifs on because i NEED to know when you update your blog FOR ANYTHING not even just jeongin ! my head is empty, just jeongin. ugh bro 😭 i'm actually so excited. keep up the good work !! :3 <3

WE WILL NEVER BE FREE OF UNHINGED JEONGIN THOUGHTS! THOSE THOUGHTS WILL LIVE IN OUR BRAINS FOREVER AND EVER!!

JEONGIN IS A PERFECT MAN, THE STANDARD FOR ALL MEN!!

THANK YOU FOR THE GOOD LUCK, IM GONNA NEED IT! (I’m actually starting a new series soon, an SMAU because I need a mini break from writing full fledged fics. Felix is the main character, but we all know Jeongin is going to have a pretty solid part because he can’t just NOT be there)

MY ASK BOX WELCOMES YOU WITH OPEN ARMS (as do I)! YOU CAN GET THE LUXURY ASK BOX SUITE!

BUT ALSO

YOU HAVE POST NOTIFICATIONS ON OMG!! THANK YOU SO MUCH! Thats honestly the greatest compliment 😭😭 THANK YOU!! I CAN’T WAIT TO USE YOUR HEART TAG MORE OFTEN!! YOUR ASKS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME IN THE BOX!!

#nana answers #<3sb0208cb

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too 

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette 

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.  

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.  

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half.  He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath. 

“Thank you, babygirl.” 

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets. 

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” 

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water. 

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show. 

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification. 

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well. 

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market. 

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer. 

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry. 

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully, 

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #scoups fic #seungcheol fic #scoups #seungcheol #svt fic #seventeen fic

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part One

Requested?: fuck no, I wrote this one all for my ownsome.

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: My GOD! Julie and the Phantoms is amazing, and while I have the theory I enjoy it so much because I didn’t really have a ‘teenage years’, I really don’t give a shit. I’m writing Luke Patterson fluff and you can all suck it!

Warning: um, none yet. This is a very PG show so PG fic.

Context: This is a reader insert mini series. It goes from 1x05 of JATP until the end, I’ll be releasing a part every day/two days. It is Luke x Reader, as much as I love my Juke ship, so Luke and Julie’s relationship is a lot more friendly than in the show. Also, some scenes may be different, dialogue from the show is used, yada yada.

--

Some might not believe it, but life starts, properly starts, when you die. At least, it did for Y/N Y/L/N.

Her life on earth had been short, and dull, and ended tragically with plenty left undone: it didn’t surprise her that she came back as a ghost. If anything, she would have been a bit shocked if she hadn’t: she had, after all, died with so much potential wasted, so much she could have done.

She was lucky that Caleb had found her.

“5 minutes ladies!” A voice called from afar, receiving a chorus of ‘thank you five’ from around the dressing room as performers hurried to get the last of their makeup and hair done, readying for that’s night’s performance, and knocking Y/N from a stupor. She came back to reality, taking the lid off the lipstick she had been playing with for the last ten minutes and finally applying it, then proceeding to take the curlers out her hair and slip on her heels for the night. Caleb had mentioned for her to be on the look out for special guests in front, and she had dressed in her best costume for the occasion.

She heard a sigh of relief as she finally moved from the mirror, a few of the girls crowding the vanity to start applying their finishing touches, none of them brave enough to interrupt Y/N’s ponderings: she may have died at 17, but none of the dancers had been with the club as long as she had, none were as faithful to Caleb as she was.

She had been his right-hand woman for almost 25 years now, some of the staff had barely been there a quarter of that time.

Her heels clicked as she headed for the stage, blowing a pin curl from her face and tucking it back into place as she took a spot on the stage and looked out at the crowd forming: from the looks of it, that night would be their busiest all week. The lifers were starting to settle at tables, collecting the last drinks before the opening number of the evening, mingling with excitement in the air and secrecy on their lips: they were getting to experience something forbidden, something beyond reality, after all.

She scanned the room, looking for the familiar face she had grown to love over the past decades, finally finding him stood in his best tuxedo – which consisted of a tailcoat, patterned black and gold shirt, and a pair of tailored board shorts – at the foot of the staircase with three boys around the same age as them, all watching in awe as lifers passed through them and proceeding to question her best friend.

“Willie!” She called, running over with a wave and a smile to him and the trio, getting a good look at them all as Willie’s arm came around her waist and hugged her into his side. The first, a familiar looking tall, lanky blonde kid in a jean jacket that Y/N was sure was the guy Willie had been gushing over just an hour or so earlier; the second was the tallest, close to a foot taller than Y/N herself, with quiffed black hair slicked back with gel, dressed like a new age Rockstar in leather and red colours. And then the third, with a dopey grin and a mop of chocolate hair on his head, paired with a painted denim overcoat and obscure band tee underneath, who unashamedly looked her over as she stood at Willie’s side.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Willie introduced her to be met with raised eyebrows from the three. By appearance alone, Willie constantly in a state of casual skater attire, and Y/N stood in front of them with pin curls, high heels and a blue sequin number that accentuated every one of her features, it just didn’t seem like they could be friends. “She looks a lot different in the day time.”

“Very funny William.” Y/N quipped back, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Why don’t I show you all to your table?” She offered, holding out a hand to the one in the leather jacket, who took her hand with a slack jaw and dumbfounded nod of the head.

“Yes, yes please.” He managed, and Y/N led the four down to their table, front and centre. “I’m Reggie, by the way. And that’s Alex and Luke. We’re in a band… Actually, we’re here tonight because-” Reggie started to ramble, but Y/N held a manicured finger to his lips, an innocent smile on her face.

“We don’t talk business here. You sit down and enjoy the show, alright? I’m sure Willie can keep you company, sort you boys out.” She said with a flirty tone, a habit she had grown into working the HGC scene: easier to flirt with the guests, often means a bigger pay-out by the end of the night. Willie pulled out a chair for Alex, the blonde one, who smiled shyly at her friend and sat down, Luke the last to take his place at the table.

“Y/N, is it?” He asked, looking her over a second time. He sat back in his chair, a smirk on his face as she came closer, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

“Careful there handsome, I don’t fraternise with guests.” She laughed a little as she said it, blowing a kiss in his direction before disappearing back stage for the show, soon to start. It took Luke a second to look away, to focus back on what the three had come there for: their old bandmate had stolen their music, passed it off as his own, and they were quite intent on making him pay.

“Ok, so, who’s going to make us visible so we can confront our old band mate?” He asked Willie, looking around the room at the lifers, wondering if one of them had the same weird power Julie seemed to possess.

“Oh, no, no, none of these lifers have the power to do that.” Willie corrected, just as music started up from the stage. “Oh, but here comes the ghost who does.” Willie drummed his fingers on the table in excitement, leaving the three bandmates rather confused. Willie had brought them there with no real information about what or who they were meeting.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a male voice announced from nowhere in particular, “Back from the dead by popular demand, please welcome Caleb Covington.” The words were met with applause and cheers from the crowd, Willie letting out a few whoops and prompting the boys to start clapping as in a puff of purple smoke, a man appeared in the middle of the air.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, reaching his arms out in a gesture of thanks to the loving crowds, dressed in black and purple satin. He was met with a collective ‘hell yeah’ from the audience, causing Reggie, Luke and Alex to share side glances, all a little on edge. “I did too!” He responded, met with laughter and more cheers. “Welcome to the party of your dreams!” He introduced, his voice commanding attention and respect, not to mention his floating in mid-air. “From the Egyptians to the Druids, to the person sitting next to you, we’ve all wondered ‘where do we go when that final light is snuffed out’?” The bandmates couldn’t deny, this Caleb guy was certainly intriguing. “Let me show you.

“Let me introduce myself, we’ve got some time to kill. Consider me the pearly gates to your new favourite thrills.” He moved forward in the air, floating closer and closer to the boys’ table at the front, and Luke couldn’t help but feel that Caleb was singing to them, to him. “We could go make history or you could rest in peace, but here there ain’t no misery cause on the other side we live like kings.

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose. Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two cause you ain’t seen nothing…” With a flick of his cape as he landed down, the stage suddenly filled with musicians and dancers, all ghosts that had been invisible to even the four dead boys in the front.

“Life, is good on the other side of Hollywood.” The song continued, and as his counterparts took in the full ensemble on stage, Luke found his eyes drifting to the girl they had met, Willie’s friend Y/N. She had managed in the few moments from leaving to arriving on stage to have sprayed a lock of her curls blue, and come into possession of a feather fan the same colours as her dress. Another girl stood across the stage in the same attire, except she also sported a blue wig and headpiece, which it seems Y/N had forgone.

Luke had reason to stare of course: not only was she beautiful, but a talented dancer, and as Caleb sang away she joined in on backing vocals, the pair linking arms as she danced around him, then spun into a dip, Caleb’s arm holding her steady as she fluttered her fan. Movement around them snatched his attention from her, waiters in pink suits coming from all sides to form a circle around Caleb.

What followed was a barrage of temptation: from the countless desserts circling past to the girl that appeared from under their table cloth to the trapeze artists and the dancing that got everyone on their feet and cheering along. It was only after Caleb ended the number by disappearing thanks to the help of Y/N and her fellow fan girl that the room finally settled down a little.

“This is so cool…” Reggie muttered, waving to some lifers across the room: they could see him, see them: actually see them.

“Dude, I knew I recognised him.” Alex gestured, pulling Reggie’s attention from his apparent visibility and Luke’s from scanning the room for a certain girl in blue. “He’s the guy that bumped into me outside the Orpheum.”

“Wait. Isn’t he that magician dude that died a horrible death doing a trick?” Reggie asked Willie, who laughed a little in response.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t bring that up whenever we meet him.” Alex scolded Reggie, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, but you should come back when he shows one of his movies.” Willie interjected with a grin. “I mean, for Titanic, he literally floods the entire place. I mean, the guy has got skills.”

“Alright, but he can, like, wave his arms and make ghosts visible to lifers?” Luke asked, perhaps the most rooted in reality after the performance, still quite set on their goal for coming here, for cutting it short of their performance with Julie.

“Told you, the guy’s got skills.” Willie shrugged, and Reggie looked back at the stage.

“So, uh, where’d he go?” He asked, taking a glance into the stage wings before turning back round and jumping back about a foot in surprise, Caleb stood right behind Alex and Luke. “Oh wow! Found him! Ha!”

“Hello boys, Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Caleb introduced himself, a smile on his face and the accent of a fifties radio presenter. “Enjoying the show?” He asked, and Luke took lead.

“That was… I mean… Did you… Like…” He tried to articulate it, but found his mind going back to the girl in the blue dress and went a little red, and gave up trying to find the words, letting his appraising arms fall to their sides.

“I know.” Caleb responded with a light chuckle.

“This is Alex, Luke, and Reggie.” Willie introduced them all to Caleb.

“it’s really nice to meet you.” Alex offered, Reggie following it with a peace sign and a ‘sup?’, which put a smile on Caleb’s face.

“The pleasure is all mine. Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends.” Caleb explained, gesturing for the boys to take a seat as he took one of his own. “Now, our friend Willie here tells me you guys have some magic of your own?” He questioned Alex, who’s eyes widened at the man’s quizzing.

“Willie and I? I wouldn’t call it magic exactl-” Alex started his response, his voice getting squeakier as he went on, but was quickly cut off by Willie’s hand on his shoulder.

“He means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie.” Willie corrected. Alex started an apology, but Caleb raised a hand, showing it wasn’t needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t really wave our arms and do all this magic stuff.” Luke added, but Caleb didn’t seem phased by his humbling of their ability.

“Well, I’ve had some practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It’s not often I come across other spirits who possess similar talents.” Caleb explained. “It’s no surprise we found each other.”

“Yeah, that… definitely…” Luke agreed, and Caleb smile briefly, standing from his chair.

“If you’ll forgive me fellas, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying. I’ll be back later to chat.” The host excused himself, all of their eyes following to find Willie’s friend Y/N stood in a black dress, waiting for Caleb. “My darling! Oh, look at that dress! Where have you been?” He asked her.

Unbeknownst to the bandmates, Willie and Y/N shared a glance as Caleb took her by the waist and led her towards the back stage area, and Willie checked the time.

9.10… The boys were late to their gig, and if the Hollywood Ghost Club had anything to do with it, they would never arrive.

--

As the night continued on, and after Reggie learned the shocking revelations that not only was Han Solo killed in the Star Wars franchise, but that they added a character named Jar Jar Binks, Willie found himself fleeing for a moment. He had spent the entire night with Alex, and the more time he spent with him, the more he liked the guy.

Willie needed some air, a break, and in searching for it he ran into Y/N.

“Aren’t you meant to be out there? Flirting with the lanky one?” She asked with a teasing tone, running her fingers through her curls, slowly separating them into waves. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. And your type. And dead, which is a huge bonus. I’m tired of watching crush over men you can’t actually touch.”

“Yeah well… He was asking too many questions, didn’t want to spook him.” Willie shrugged, rubbing his arm. He didn’t like the feeling in his stomach, and Y/N could tell he felt off.

“Do you need to sit this out? I can keep them entertained; I have a feeling the one in denim has arms like Adonis.” She offered with a giggle, and Willie frowned a little. “Oh come on, Willie… It’s not like they’re being branded or anything. We’re just…” She paused, glancing over as she spotted Caleb talking to the trio, then offering them stacked plates of food. “We’re perks to the package.” She winked at her friend, who rolled his eyes at her words and pulled her to his side for a hug.

“You make it sound like the dream job.” Willie chuckled, hanging his head a little.

“Isn’t it?” Y/N raised a brow, and squished his face between her fingers before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Let them eat for a while, join them later if you feel up to it. I’ll be getting denim on the dance floor though.” She shrugged, heading to go fix her makeup when Willie got her arm.

“His name is Luke… And from what I can tell, he’s actually a pretty nice guy.” He told her, met with a smirk and batting eyelashes.

“Just how I like them.” She replied, pulling her arm away and heading back to the dressing room, leaving Willie in a state of quandary.

By the time the final performance of the night was ready to begin, Reggie, Alex and Luke had eaten three platefuls of food each, having forgotten what pizza and burgers and meatball subs actually tasted like. And as Reggie found himself defending kissing his meatball sub to Alex, Luke felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Y/N stood behind him with a smirk painted on red lips.

“Well, how can I be of service?” He asked her, wiping the last traces of pizza grease from his fingertips onto his jeans, earning a genuine smile from the glamour model of a woman.

“It’s what I can do for you…” She replied, holding out a hand to him. “You’ll be in need of a dance partner shortly.” She explained as Caleb took the stage, starting his monologue about how “we do dessert”.

“I thought you said you didn’t fraternise.” Luke reminded as the music started up and the dance floor filled, the room once again alive with cheers and clapping. Y/N walked backwards into the middle of the floor, Willie quickly joining her centre stage as the beat picked up on entry into the chorus and the room got to their feet.

“You’re the exception to the rule, Denim.” Y/N called back, Luke grinning at the nickname she had given him, earning a nudge from Alex. He swatted his friend playfully as the three of them watched Y/N and Willie join in a huge dance routine.

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood.

Caleb’s voice resonated in the air as waiters, showgirls, and the like all started pulling patrons onto the floor with them. Caleb approached the trio, beckoning the girl who had popped up from their table earlier that night to dance her way through each bandmate: ending with a shimmy to the floor in front of Reggie that had the poor boy near unconscious.

As one of the girls in blue took the recovering Reggie onto the dance floor, and as Alex wondered where Willie had disappeared to, Y/N made her way over to Luke and offered her hand. This time, instead of asking questions, Luke took it eagerly. He didn’t hesitate in walking her on to the dance floor though, instead pulling her close by the waist as her hands rested on his chest.

“You know how to jive?” She asked him, the pair stood still for a moment amongst the chaos around them. There was so much of it, Y/N almost didn’t notice Caleb sending Willie backstage with a flick of his finger, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts. Luke had responded to her question by taking her hand and spinning her out before coiling her back in. Her arms went over his head, Luke spinning this time as they began kicking feet in perfect synchronicity and in time with the music. Luke pulled Y/N close, lifting her up and spinning with her, causing the girl to shriek and throw her head back in laughter.

As the song came to an end, Y/N glanced back to the stage and received a firm nod from the belting host, her cue to leave. She spun Luke out of her grasp once she hit the floor, handing him over to one of the show girls who promptly dipped him at the same time as Reggie fell for the same move, leaving both boys laughing as Y/N disappeared behind the stage.

She and Willie had both done their jobs after all, she could go back to her room for the night, get some rest. She walked over to her vanity backstage, wiping away the stage makeup, brushing out her curls, and changing into more comfortable clothes. She only stopped when she heard the gong of the club’s clock.

Midnight.

She sighed, glancing in the mirror one last time before heading out to the front of house, noticing the boys she had been acquainted with that night were no longer on the floor, instead making a bee-line for the exit. Her feet were quick to follow, slowing only when Caleb poofed into place in front of the fleeing teens.

“Gentlemen, what’s the rush?” He asked, his eyes catching on Y/N for a moment as she disappeared back into the crowds. “The party’s just getting started, and you have eternity, after all.” He reminded them with a cheerful smile.

“You know that girl who can see us? We sort of bailed on her.” Reggie began through ragged breath, thanks to Alex and Luke pulling him from the dancefloor. “See, there’s this dance at her school and her friend Flynn is a super cool DJ, like-”

“Ok, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear the story.” Alex interrupted.

“Basically, we’re late for a gig.” Luke finished, and Caleb frowned at the words, prompting an eavesdropping Y/N to step a touch closer.

“But what about my offer?” Caleb asked, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

“It’s very cool of you, Mr Covington, but, like I said, we already have a-” Luke began again, but Caleb raised his hands in defeat.

“A band of your own.” He finished for the boys, Y/N pondering it over. Had Caleb wanted the three for the house band? “I understand… But boys, if you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

And there it was, the final temptation.

“Yeah man, we’d love to come back.” Luke smiled.

“Music to my ears!” Caleb returned the affectionate expression, offering a hand to each of the boys in turn. With each shake, the boys pulled back, a mark becoming branded on their wrist. When they frowned at the symbol, Caleb interrupted. “Oh, it’s just a little club stamp.” He assured, and their faces lit back up again. “Until next time.” Luke was first to exit, and Y/N followed after him quickly, stopping him just before he reached the stairs to leave.

“You’ve got good feet on you…” She said with a smile, catching him by surprising and evoking a smile.

“You’re not half bad yourself…” He countered, taking a few steps closer. She held a finger up for a moment, walking over to a table on the far side of the room and picking up a pen before returning.

“Arm.” She demanded, and Luke held it out willingly. Y/N frowned for a second, noticing the marking on his wrist, but didn’t let it stop her from pushing up his sleeve and writing a phone number on his arm. “You might think it’s bizarre, but I have access to a landline. There’s one at the club. Call me if you decide on coming back… Or…” She blushed a little, and Luke grinned.

“Or if I want to call up the pretty showgirl and see her outside of the club? I will.” He assured her, puling his sleeve back down as Reggie walked out the club, his eyes widening at the pair, having to take a second glance at Y/N out of her costume: while neither he nor Luke could read minds, they were both thinking the same thing.

Y/N somehow looked even better out of her showgirl get up.

Perhaps it was the mismatched converse high tops, or the fishnet tights under her ripped shorts, maybe it was the ripped band tee displaying the iron maiden cover art, Luke wasn’t sure. But she was gorgeous, and knowing she seemed to like what he did just added to the fact.

“See you around, Denim.” Y/N smiled, lifting the collar of his jacket for a moment before letting it go and heading inside, walking past Alex as she went.

“Was that Willie’s friend?” He asked in surprise, Reggie nodding.

“I think Luke’s in love.” He teased, earning a punch on the arm from the band’s led guitarist.

“Shut it, Reggie. Now, let’s get to that dance.” Luke quickly reminded them, the three quickly disappearing with the destination of Julie’s school in mind, all of them preparing for a major scolding for being three hours late.

--

Part Two is here...

--

Tags: @im-a-writer-right​

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

[twdsunshine]

Hiiii 🖤 I hope you don't mind me asking (I'm not trying to be pushy or anything, just curious), do you have a plan for like, what's posting when or what order you're going to be working on things? Just wondering what's coming up that I need to watch out for 😂😂 I hope that's not rude to ask.

Heyyy, sweet Anon! Not rude at all, I promise 🖤 And, yes, I do have a rough plan of when I'm gonna be working on things, so I'll give you a quick run through it if that helps.

So, Blood & Magicks is obviously ongoing. I'm halfway through writing chapter 21 at the moment, so I'm well ahead, and just kinda dipping in and out of it as I get flashes of inspiration. It's such a long project that it's currently scheduled to finish on 7th May next year which is a little insane, so that will just keep posting on Sundays for the foreseeable future.

I've been working on Broken, which I have now decided will run to 12 parts instead of 10 because I have no self-control and it keeps getting away from me. I've just finished writing part 8 of that, so I have 4 parts left to go, and I'm pretty determined to get that finished over the next week or so. That series will wrap up on 18th April.

I then have 6 drabble requests waiting: 5 Daryl x Reader; 1 Rick x OFC. I'll probably crack on with those as soon I've finished writing Broken cos I don't like feeling like people are waiting on me. Luckily, they never take too long as they can be as long or short as I like really, and they don't require much of a plot or anything. Those will just be posted as I get them done.

After that, I have two main projects I want to start on - I'm currently not sure which I want to work on first. Whichever I choose will begin posting on 25th April, most likely.

- One is the third and final mini-series in my Prison AU trilogy (following on from In Dark Corners and Wide Open Spaces). It will be called The World At Our Feet. It's been years since I wrote about Lexi and Daryl, so I'm hoping people still care enough to want to know how their story ends.

- The other is a Negan mini-series called Little Miss, which will be based on the song Little Miss by Sugarland. I haven't really done much for Negan since I've reopened this blog, and I feel like there are a lot of followers here mainly for Negan content, but I'm just finding it a little hard to write him at the moment. I'm currently doing a series rewatch, so I'm hoping when I get to Season 7 I'll find my way with him again.

There's also a Supernatural mini-series idea that I've started to write called Along For The Ride, but that's taken a back seat at the moment cos I need to rewatch a couple of episodes before I feel confident to press on with it. So, that will be coming at some point, but I'm not sure when just yet.

Aaaaand I'll be working on one-shots as and when too. I finished one earlier this week called Choices, a Daryl x Reader which will be posting on 9th March. I have another Daryl one in the works called Ghost Of You which may well be the next one I finish so will post towards the end of March. Any others will depend on what sort of inspiration strikes or possibly new episodes from season 11 because I am loving that so far.

I mean, honestly, I have a document called Fic Ideas which has 9 ideas for series and/or mini-series outlined right now. One of them is an AU which I'm particularly excited about, but I think it may be a little out there for some people. Then I have 3 other WIPs outlined in more detail, or even started, that have been sitting in my drafts for a while or have been inspired by drabbles that I want to build into full stories.

So, yeah. That got a little long, but I am always so, so happy and excited to talk about what I'm working on and what's coming up. If anyone ever wants more info about my WIPs, just holler, cos it gives me so much motivation 😊 Thank you so much for asking!!

#hana answers #writing chat

[anika-ann]

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo​ is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following – warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #professor Steve rogers #professor au #college au #modern au #steve rogers x you #professor bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america au #captain america imagine #captain america x you #bearded steve rogers #LEMONS #lots of lemons #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfiction #captain america fanfic #avengers #mcu #attached #anika ann

[deanswaywardgirl]

Having Faith

A/N: So, this is something I came up with in the shower. Don’t ask me how or why, but that seems to be where I conjure up my ideas. I call them my “Shower Fics”. Anyway, this could be just a part 1, y’all let me know what you think, and I think if there is a part 2 in the future, I think I’d like to do a collaboration, maybe even turn it into a mini-series or even longer. I’m letting Faith control this story. It’s her story, I just write it down. So, let me know. Enjoy!

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warning: angst, heartbroken Dean (face it, it's a warning. When Dean cries, everyone cries)

Faith paced back and forth in her room, the book of instructions on the Malek box, that Billie had given Dean, in her hand. "Dammit!" she growled, her eyes glowing blue as she threw the book, putting a large hole in the wall. She sank onto the edge of the bed, before standing and running her fingers through her hair again. She sat back down on the bed and held her head in her hands, going through any and all options in her head. But one option stood out above all others. She stared at her alarm clock, noting that it was almost three in the morning, her mind flashing back to the last words her and Dean had spoken to each other.

"The Malek Box is not an option, Dean, we're not going down that road," Faith said, dropping her duffel bag down on the map table. She moved towards the whiskey and took a large swig directly from the bottle, too pissed off to pour any into a glass. 

"Faith, Billie said--" "Dean, I don't give a crap what Billie said. Screw Billie and her damn rules. I care about you and Sam and what this means for you. Do you have any idea how severe this plan is, any idea what it means?" "Yes, it means Michael goes down for good. It means saving this world, and every other world that exists. It means saving my family: Sam, you, Cas, Mom, and everyone else." "And what about us, Dean? Even if we help you go through with this crap, do you really think we'll sleep better at night, knowing you're a thousand leagues under water fighting this douchebag archangel for all eternity?" Faith swallowed hard as she moved towards him, tears falling down her cheeks. "Dammit, Dean, he will never let you die. You will never have peace, you will never rest, you will never see the light of day ever again." "Do you think I don't know that, Faith? I am terrified when I think about this, but I have to do this. I have to save you and Sam, I have to save the world." "Not like this, you don't, and you're not. I won't let you." "You're not gonna let me?" "Hell no!" "How are you gonna stop me?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on hers. Faith shook her head and bit her bottom lip, then punched him and stormed off down the hall to the room she'd claimed when she wanted to be alone.

The two hadn't spoken since, and that was two days before. Leaving her room, she headed toward Sam's room, each step of her plan falling into place in her head. It broke her heart to do it this way, but she had to save her boys, she had to save Dean. From Michael and from himself. Swallowing hard, she found Sam in the kitchen and stood there, watching him for a moment, memorizing everything about this man with a beautiful soul in front of her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of saying goodbye to the man that had become her best friend and her brother.

"Faith? You alright?" Sam asked, bringing her out of her reverie. Faith took a shaky breath and moved toward him, watching as he stood up. She moved directly into his arms and held on tightly, breathing in his scent. "You know I love you, right? You know I'd do anything for you and that you're my brother, right?" she asked, then glanced up at him. Sam glanced down at her and smiled softly, then kissed her forehead. "Of course I know that, Faith. I love you too. What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern. Faith smiled softly and slid her hands into his. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that, okay? It's almost three in the morning, Moose, go to bed. You can look for a way to save your brother in the morning." "I know, I just feel like every minute counts. He's not backing down on this one," Sam said, sitting back down. "We gotta save him, Faith, I don't know what I'll do if he goes through with this plan of his." Faith nodded and smiled softly. "I'll save him, I promise, Sammy. Goodnight," she said and left the kitchen, headed to the library to get the mind machine that Tonie Bevill had used on Dean and Mary. 

She swallowed hard as she wheeled it to Dean's room and parked it just outside his door, then slowly poked her head in and noticed he was laid out in his bed, his arms over his chest. She took a shaky breath and moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Dean?" she whispered, swallowing hard. The man opened one eye and closed it again. "Faith. Something on your mind?" he asked, then opened one eye in time to see tears fall down her face. "I'm sorry," she said, and watched as he moved closer and took her into his arms, holding her tightly. Faith cried into his shoulder and held on tightly, threading her fingers into his hair as she inhaled his scent. "I love you so damn much, Dean Winchester."

"Shh," Dean whispered and pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes as he held her tight in his arms.

"Dean, you mean everything to me, so I have to do this," she whispered and pulled back to look into his eyes, stroking his cheek. "Forgive me," she whispered and placed two fingers against his forehead, putting him to sleep. 

She placed her other hand on the back of his head and lowered him back down onto the bed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "I love you, Dean." She stood and adjusted him so he was comfortable, placing his legs on the bed. She moved to the door and pulled the mind meld machine into the room. She hooked Dean up to it, then herself and laid down beside him and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. She closed her eyes and focused, and soon was back in Rocky's Bar, sitting across from Dean. 

"Hey," she said, smiling apologetically before standing and moving to the walk in freezer. "Faith, what are we doing back here? What are you doing?" Dean asked, attempting to stand. Faith turned back to him and pulled out the archangel blade from her jacket.

"I'm saving my family, Dean. I'm saving you," she said and moved toward him and knelt down. "I meant what I said. I love you, Dean, and I will save you from this son of a bitch." She stood up and kissed his forehead before moving to the freezer and pulling out the ice pick. She stood back and stood protectively in front of Dean, swallowing hard. "Come on out, you bastard. I know you're in there. I have an offer for you," she called, breathing shakily. 

Soon, Michael came out of the freezer, his eyes full of anger. Sensing his anger toward Dean, Faith held the archangel blade up, her own eyes glowing blue. "Hello, Father." "Faith, Faith, Faith," he said, smiling at her, taking a few steps forward. "I'm impressed. You went through all this trouble to break me out of this rat hole of angst and daddy issues." Faith snarled and clenched her jaw before tightening her grip.

"I came to make you an offer, Michael." "Faith, don't do this," Dean said. Faith closed her eyes and let a single tear fall before facing her father again. Michael smirked and clasped his hands together in front of him. "I'm listening," he told her, his expression impassive.

"Deal of the millenium. You leave Dean and you can have me instead. Take your real sword, me, and leave Dean in peace. He lives, you live, I live. Everyone goes home happy." 

The archangel laughed and moved to circle her, only to stop when she moved closer to Dean. "No, you're not coming anywhere near him. In fact, you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me?" she asked, swallowing hard. Michael's brow furrowed as he watched her. "What makes you think you're my sword and not him?" he asked. Faith gave him a cold smile. "Please. It's not like you love me. I'm a weapon, I was supposed to lead your piss poor angel army against Lucifer's, while you fought Lucifer. Love requires a heart, Michael, and using Dean's heart doesn't count." "Dammit, Faith, stop this," Dean growled behind her.

"No, Dean. This is the only way you stay alive, and Sam keeps his brother. You two need each other more than you'll ever need me. It's the right thing to do." She breathed deeply and licked her lips, turning her attention back to Michael. 

"So? Leave or die, Michael, it's up to you. It's the only offer you're gonna get in the next decade or so.” The archangel laughed and shook his head. "Faith...this family you seem to care so much about, these Winchesters. You really think they care about you? You really think Dean cares about you? You think he loves you? When you and I leave, he'll be relieved. You'll be one less weight around his neck, and another monster to hunt. And why? So you could be their hero? Their guardian angel?" Michael laughed and licked his lips. 

Tears fell down her cheeks as she blocked out the voice in her head that said he was right and blinked before forcing her eyes back to his. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, Michael. I'll lead whatever army you want me to lead, but you have to leave Dean and Sam alone forever. Or I will drive this knife into my heart, and you'll be short one real weapon." 

Michael turned his eyes to Dean and back to Faith. "You'll come with me willingly?" he asked, approaching her, now standing directly in front of her. "You'll obey my every order, my every command? As if they came from.." he smirked and flicked his eyes to Dean just behind her, "Dean himself. You have to admit, you'd do anything and everything for him. And he wouldn't even have to ask." Faith clenched her jaw, tears falling down her cheek. She swallowed thickly and turned her blue eyes up to Michael.

"Yes. Now, do we have a deal or not?" she asked. "Faith, no, I'm begging you not to do this," Dean growled. Faith closed her eyes as she swallowed hard, dropping her eyes.

"Fine. We have a deal," Michael said and smirked, turning his eyes to Dean. "Today's your lucky day, Dean. Guess you won't be needing that box after all." He winked at the hunter and moved toward the door before turning back and holding his hand out to Faith. "Find a different vessel, Michael, I'm gonna say goodbye to my boys and I'll meet you in an hour at the town line."

It wasn't long before Dean and Faith both awakened from their sleep. Faith looked around and met Dean's eyes. "What did you do?" Dean asked, standing up off the bed. "Dean--" "You made a deal with him, Faith, you made--"

"Dean, I did it for you. For you and Sam." She moved off the bed towards him and cupped his face in her hands. "Dean, I only have an hour, can I please say goodbye to you?" she asked. Dean bit his bottom lip as he looked down into her eyes, then pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "You don't have to go with him, Faith. We can protect you, we can keep you safe. I can. I can protect you," he told her, gripping her waist with his fingertips. "Dean, hey, look at me." Dean moved his eyes down to hers and he swallowed hard. "Listen to me. You and Sam, it was always you and Sam. It was never Dean and Faith, it was never Sam and Faith. I'm not important, I'm not....I'm not a Winchester," she said and cupped his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. Tears fell down Dean's cheeks as he listened to her.

"Sweetheart, you underestimate how much we need you. How much I need you. You are more important to me than you will ever know," he told her. "I love you more than anything in this world, Faith, and I always will." The girl in his arms shook her head and leaned up, kissing him with every ounce of her heart, every inch of her soul. Dean lifted her up onto his waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her in his lap, then reached up and cupped her face in his hand, earning a moan from her. He moved his lips down her jaw to her neck, gripping her waist in his fingertips, longing to feel her and to feel her touch him. Faith gently pulled back and pressed her forehead against his. "Dean, I only have an hour, or he'll come looking for me," she whispered, tracing his lips with her thumb, memorizing the feel of them. Dean parted his lips and kissed her palm tenderly, holding her hand to his face and leaning into it, his eyes falling closed.

"I can't believe you did this," he said, the tears falling. "I couldn't let you take that box to the bottom of the ocean, Dean. I never would've forgiven myself. Sam wouldn't have either." Dean gazed into her eyes and gently pulled her against him, cupping her face in his hand. "I am so in love with you," he whispered. "Faith, I don't know if I can do this without you," he told her. Faith smiled sadly.

"Dean, baby, you got on just fine before I came along," she told him, "you can do that again. Besides, you still have Sam. You will be okay," she said and kissed his forehead. "I'll be...I'll be okay, knowing you're safe. Miles away from Michael. I'd prefer that to the bottom of the ocean. I'm sure if you asked Sam--" "Sweetheart, hey," Dean interceded, looking up into her eyes, "he's not the only one in my world that matters. You matter to me just as much as he does, Faith. Whether you want to or not," he said with a warm smile. Faith smiled softly and shook her head, then pressed her head against his, cupping his face in her hand. "I love you, Dean Winchester, remember that, okay? Never forget that. And I will always choose you over this world." Dean took a shaky breath and pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her head to his shoulder. Faith breathed him in, closing her eyes as she memorized the smell of the man she loved more than anything. "Goodbye, Dean. I love you," she whispered and planted a tender kiss to his neck before disappearing. The last bit of evidence that she'd ever been there being the sound of wings fluttering.

Sam glanced up when his brother entered the room, and closed his laptop, his brow furrowing as he stood up. "Dean?" A single tear fell down Dean's cheek as he approached his younger brother, swallowing hard. "What is it? What's wrong?" Sam asked, gently clutching onto Dean's shoulder. "She's gone. Faith..." Dean sank onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. "What are you talking about?" Sam asked, his heart sinking in his chest. "She made a deal. Michael's gone...he's got her, Sam." Another tear fell down Dean's cheek as he met his brother's eyes. "She's gone, Sammy. She's gone," he said and swallowed hard, leaning his head back and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Sam swallowed hard, but stayed beside his brother, also feeling the loss, the silence of the bunker falling down around them like a curtain.

@ellewritesfix05 @chevyharvelle @whispersandwhiskerburn @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean x reader #michael!dean #dean winchester flangst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A Mere Mortal - Prologue

A/N: This story is based on the prompt : Vampires cannot enter a house without your permission, but what if your landlord’s a vampire? It’s his house, he’s just letting you live there. Part of the Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by @just-the-hiddles​. This prompt called out to me the most! This will be a mini series. I’m super nervous about this one, so feedback’s most welcome!

Taglists open! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future chapters! 

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Warnings: Foul language. Blood (Vampires! Kind of a package deal). Smut in future chapters. 18+ content!

- Prologue - 

“Because I feel trapped here! That’s fucking why!” You yelled.

Sam, your best friend, was trying his level best to convince you to stay, this time arguing all the way back to your apartment which was currently empty with boxes full of your stuff packed and ready to be shipped.

“It’s what I’ve done before and is what I’m doing now. I need to do this for my book. I’m not asking you for you to understand, I’m asking for your support Sam” you said more quietly this time, walking into your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

“I hope you find the inspiration you’re looking for in that creepy little town.” Sam mumbled.

He wasn’t entirely happy with your spontaneous decision of moving to a new place entirely, leaving your old life behind. Then again, no one close to you was ecstatic about the fact that you were about to move to an entirely different town indefinitely to complete your current novel.

But you were adamant. As you had been all your life.

A change of place, new surroundings, fresh perspective, fabulous writing.

You strongly believed in that mantra, and it had worked out very well in the past. Every new place had a story to tell, its own myths, history, secrets.

The place you were moving to was no different. Rich with folklore and a little too picturesque to not be straight out of a fairy tale. To say you were excited to explore this place was an understatement. You couldn’t wait. 

You had found a cozy little house for a great bargain just on the edge of the forest in Dewsbury. You had spoken to the landlord only through telephonic conversations, and it had worked out hassle free. 

Your new landlord, a Mr. James Buchanan Barnes, had a remarkably soothing voice, you’d noted. You wondered what he would look like in person. From your phone conversations, you guessed him to be around early 30s. Something about the way he spoke made you want to talk to him more. You were hoping to do just that once you got there. Perhaps he would show you around and tell you about himself and the town. 

That would be nice, for research purposes of course. Of course.

“It’s not creepy Sam, it’s charming. Don’t pick a fight me right before I leave. I don’t want to leave on a bad note. Plus I’m not going into exile, we’ll talk every day. The place has Wi-Fi and everything.” You said.

“Yeah, like that’s the same. It’s just that…I’ll miss you (Y/N). It’s gonna be weird not hanging out every day at our usual spot, not hearing your crazy  ideas, not getting my ass kicked at Scrabble.” Sam confessed honestly, making you smile.

“Aww Sam, I’m gonna miss you so much. But I have a good feeling about this. It’s gonna be okay. And you can come visit me whenever you want!” you said. You would miss him. He is and has always been your confidante, your biggest support system.

You gave him a big hug and you both walked around the apartment one final time. The moving truck would be here to collect your stuff soon.

Goodbye apartment, goodbye old life, hello Dewsbury. You thought, with a bittersweet smile.

It’s gonna be okay.

...

 Find Chapter 1 here

#landlord vampire fic frenzy #vampire au #vampire bucky #vampire loki #prologue #a mere mortal #bucky fanfic #loki odinson #bucky barnes #loki laufeyson #marvel au #vampire fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #loki au #loki x reader #mini series #mostly marvel musings #my writing #feedback is love #reblog

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever: Wings

Intro: They say that once you’ve been inked, it kinda becomes an addiction…

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairings:

Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:This takes place in the SSB universe way beyond Endgame. You don’t have to have read that series to understand or enjoy this but feel free to check it out but be warned this kinda reveals a few things...

SSF Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

This one shot was written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ ‘s Follower Celebration writing challenge.  My prompt was “Is that a new tattoo?”

I also can’t claim credit for the song contained within this fic, I just tweaked one line…all will become clear when you read! 

Please re-blog and comment if you enjoy. Tagging all my usual SSB readers. 

“Jamie…”Katie sighed exasperatedly as her 9 year old looked up from where he was sprawled on the rug of the den, piecing his newest lego kit that Sam and Bucky had bought him for his birthday “You need to get your stuff for school.” “Don’t wanna.” he pouted.

“Tough.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“Oh no, really?” Katie bent down, feeling his head. “Hmmmm. You do feel warm. What’s wrong?” “Sort throat.” “Oh, well… that means no soccer practice tomorrow then…and you should go straight back to bed until I can take you to the doctors later today…”

Jamie paused and looked up at her and she raised an eyebrow “Nice try Pal.”  

“Mommmm”

“Don’t make me shout your father.” she used her ace card.

Jamie gave an exaggerated sigh and stood up, rolling his eyes. Katie bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the utter indignation on his face.

“It’s Friday dude.” she smiled at him. “You got all weekend to play legos if that’s what you wanna do.”

“Does that mean I can stay up late tonight to work on it?” he asked hopefully.

“Define late.” Katie looked at him.

“11?”

“Hmmmm, I dunno.” she said playfully.

“Please?”

“I’ll speak to your dad.” she said and he smiled at her, the pair of them both knowing full well that Steve was a soft touch when it came to stuff like that. He’d probably be there helping him out with it anyway.

“Ok Mom. Can you make sure Harry doesn’t touch it whilst I’m at school?”

“I’ll keep this door shut, I promise.”  Katie assured him.

He left the room and true to her word Katie shut the door to the den and watched him head up the stairs, passing Aurora who was on her way down with her rucksack, Steve right behind her with their youngest placed on his hip.

“Hi mammamama!” Harry babbled at her and she grinned, taking him off Steve and planting a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi baby!” she grinned as his hand instantly went to grab the chain of her necklace.

“Jamie not planning on going to school today?” Steve asked her with a grin as Rori headed off to find her shoes.

“Tried telling me he was sick so he could stay home and play legos.” she snorted “Soon decided he was ok when I told him that meant no soccer practice tomorrow morning.” Steve shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Daddy?” Rori tugged on his trouser leg and he turned his attention to her.

“What’s up Princess?”

“I can’t find my sneakers.”

“Where did you leave them?” he asked, his hand gently dropping to the back of her head.

“Erm…” she pondered for a moment, before she looked up at her mom bashfully.

“Somebody left them in the middle of the lounge…” Katie looked at her. “So the Fairies put them away.”

“Sorry…” Rori wrinkled her nose and blinked up at her mom.

“It’s ok. They’re on the shoe rack sweetie.” Katie nodded to the kitchen in the direction of the utility room located at the back of the house.  

“Thanks momma.” she said, running off to retrieve them.

“What time does Emmy’s train get in?” Steve looked at Katie.

“Just after twelve.” Katie said, blowing a raspberry on Harry’s cheek. “I’ll meet her and then take her straight to get inked…” Steve let out a breath from his nose. All Emmy had talked about since turning 21st was a tattoo. Steve wasn’t particularly sure he approved but then what could he do? She was an adult now. Katie hadn’t been bothered, but then as she’d pointed out, she had a big enough one on her thigh so it would be fairly hypocritical if she had. Emmy had won Steve over though when she’d asked him to draw it for her. She’d described what she wanted, a small Phoenix type bird that would sit just above her ankle. So after a few designs and sketches she’d finally settled on something she wanted and after a consultation she was having it done this afternoon.  

“You staying with her?” Steve looked at Katie, concern etched across his face. Katie gave a soft laugh.

“She’s a big girl now Steve but yeah, I’m gonna stay.” she said, tugging on his beard playfully.

“Good.” he nodded, jerking his head out of reach. “Do you need me to pick the kids up later or…”

“No, by the time their afterschool clubs are done we’ll have finished so I’ll do it.” she smiled as Rori came back, sneakers in her hand. She sat on the bottom step and proceeded to push her feet into the pink converse, Steve crouching down on one knee to tie her shoelaces for her.

“Thanks daddy.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” he said, dropping a kiss to her head before he turned to look up the stairs “Jamie! Come on!”

“I’m coming…” came the surly reply, and no sooner had they heard it he appeared at the top of the steps, rucksack in hand.

“Drop the attitude.” Steve said sternly as Jamie trudged down the stairs, scowling. Steve looked at Katie, raising his eyebrow as their eldest son stalked past them, heading to the door, Rori running behind him.

“Wait for me Jay…” she called, her small feet slapping on the tiles of the hallway as she went.

“Told you…” Katie said, smirking “He’s a mini you…”

“That filthy look he had on his face? That is a Stark expression.” Steve said, looking back at her as he picked Rori’s rucksack up.

“Is not.” Katie laughed “That’s the face you make whenever someone’s pissing you off.”

Steve gave a snort before he dropped a soft kiss to her lips, making Harry shriek.

“Kissy!” he laughed.

“See you later.” Steve smiled against her mouth “Love you.” “You too” she said, and with a last peck and a ruffle of Harry’s hair he headed after Jamie and Rori, barking out an instruction for them to quit their squabble over who was sitting in the front seat.

“Easy solution…” Katie heard Steve say loudly “You can both get in the back. End of discussion.”

Their protest’s died as the door snapped shut.

Katie chuckled to herself and looked at Harry “Shall we get you ready to go too baby boy?”

“Go!” he nodded, grinning. 

*******

Katie’s morning was reasonably easy. A meeting and a manuscript to review which she’d managed to do by half 11. Changing out of her office clothes into a loose pair of sweats, trainers and a hoody she headed out and made her way to Grand Central.

She spotted Emmy emerging into the main terminal and swept her daughter up into a hug.

“Hey mom.” Emmy said, squeezing her back.

“Ready to go get inked?” Katie asked, Emmy grinned and slung her satchel over one shoulder, linking her arm through her mom’s.

“You eaten?” Katie asked as they walked out into the early April sun.

“Yeah, followed the instructions.” Emmy nodded.

“Good.” Katie said. “Nervous?”

“A little.” Emmy shrugged “It’s gonna hurt right?”

“It’s not so bad.” Katie shrugged, “Some places hurt more apparently but…most important thing to remember is if you need a break just ask.”

“Ok.”

The two women walked a few blocks, catching up. It had been a couple of weeks since Emmy was home, fast approaching the last few weeks of the semester at Harvard before her exams started. All of her marks so far had been sky high, leaving her parents immensely proud, although both had taken great pains to tell her that they didn’t care what the outcome was, as long as she tried her best.

Eventually they reached the place and Emmy opened the door, stepping in. David, the man that had done the consultation a few weeks back beckoned them both through.

“Ok, so…” he said, tilting the screen to show Emmy the picture of her design he’d scanned “I gotta say I’m excited about this one, it’s pretty unique.”

“My dad drew it.” Emmy beamed.

“It’s phenomenal.” David smiled “I had to sharpen some of the lines up but there’s no major changes. Are you happy with it?”

Emmy nodded.

“Ok, and yours Mrs Rogers…” David clicked and the imaged changed. “The touches we’re adding to your thigh are fairly straight forward but this one…this is what I think it is right?”

Katie nodded.

“Awesome…” David smiled, and hit print and stood up to collect both the prints.

“Have you told Dad?” Emmy looked at her. Katie smirked and shook her head.

“Nope.” she popped the p on the word “Thought it would be a nice surprise when he gets to see it later.” “I’m not sure if I should be grossed out by that thought or not.” Emmy mumbled and Katie simply laughed.

Just over 2 and a half hours later they were done, leaving the parlour with strict after care instructions. Emmy had hardly flinched through hers, whereas Katie’s new one had been slightly uncomfortable due to the placing.

“Think that earned us a beer…” Katie said checking her watch. “Come on, we got time before we need to collect the heathens.”

***** “Show me! Show me!”  Rori demanded.

“You can’t see it yet short stuff.” Emmy said fondly “It’s still wrapped up.”

“When can you unwrap it?” Jamie asked.

“Another hour or so yet.” Katie answered “So quit bugging your sister and go put your school bags away.”

“Emmy do you wanna watch Sponge Bob with me?” Rori asked. 

“Only if we can sing the special song…” Emmy grinned, holding her hand out for a hi-five. Rori giggled, and slapped her smaller palm against her sister’s.

“What special song?” Katie looked at her.

“Oh just a variation on the theme tune we made up.” Emmy said, grinning mischievously 

“I dread to think.” Katie muttered, watching Jamie and Rori head up stairs to deposit their rucksacks in their room.

Katie bustled around making dinner, simple spaghetti and meatballs as requested by all 4 kids...well, the elder 3...Harry merely clapped his hands and yelled “getty” in agreement. She was stood stirring the sauce when she heard Steve walk through the door an toss his keys onto the table in the hall little under an hour later. 

“Daddy’s home!” she heard Rori shriek and a moment later Steve chuckled.

“Hey…” he said, sweeping her up and placing a kiss on her cheek. He carried her through to the kitchen where he greeted Harry with a ruffle of the hair as he sat by the table doodling on a pad with Emmy.

“Hi sweetie.” Steve said, as Emmy stood up to give him a hug. “How was the tattooing?”

“Good.” she nodded, “Oh, actually, mom….should I unwrap it now?”

“Errr, yeah.” Katie said, turning the heat down on the stove and accepting the kiss Steve offered. “Can you watch these 2. I’ll go help Emmy out…”

“Sure.” Steve said, “Where’s Jamie?”

“2 guesses” Katie grinned at him and Steve shook his head, smiling, knowing full well that meant he was nose deep in lego.

Katie and Emmy bounded up the stairs and returned about 15 minutes later, Emmy proudly showing off the design on her right ankle. Steve had to admit, it did look pretty good, but then he would say that, he drew it after all.

They dragged Jamie out of the den for dinner, where the boy managed 2 helpings before he ran off again, almost having a meltdown when Katie told him he had to share the den as Rori wanted to watch Cartoons. One stern look from Steve nipped the tantrum in the bud and the 4 kids departed once dishes had been deposited in the sink, Katie waving away Emmy’s offer to help, telling her to go spend some time with her siblings. It didn’t take her and Steve long to clear down and they were heading towards the living room to collapse onto the sofa together, but the shriek and cheers coming from the den made them both stop in their tracks.

“What on Earth are they watching?”  Steve looked at his wife.

“Sponge Bob, apparently…” Katie said. The two looked at one another, before they headed back towards the den and peeked through the door which was open a crack.

Emmy was stood, swaying with Harry held on her hip, the pair of them laughing, whilst Jamie was doing some kind of strange running man dance as Rori bounced up and down on the sofa as the opening credits began to roll. Emmy opened her mouth and started singing along to the opening theme tune in a pirate voice.

Only she wasn’t singing the theme tune. They were completely different words.

“Who lived as a Capsicle under the sea?” Emmy paused to look at Jamie and Rori who both yelled back in chorus, Harry mimicking them as best he could whilst clapping his hands.

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

Steve blinked, looked at Katie, his mouth dropping open as she burst out laughing at the look of utter confusion and perplexment on his face. She pushed the door open further and all the kids turned to see their parents watching them. But instead of stopping, they continued to sing even louder at Steve as he folded his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Saluting a hello and killing Nazis…” Emmy continued

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

“If patriotism be something you wish…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

By this point Katie was laughing that hard she couldn’t breathe. She doubled over, tears pouring from her face as the kids continued their relentless serenade to their father.

“Then throw a big shield and punch with your fist…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

That was it. Steve couldn’t keep his face straight any longer and he too started to laugh, grinning as Rori ran over to him and pulled on his hands dragging him into the room to make him twirl her round.

Eventually the song stopped and the room was simply filled with laughter which died down. Steve wiped his eyes and looked at his kids before he crossed his arms.

“You’re all grounded.” he smirked, and then ran as they started pelting him with throw cushions.

****

Later that night, as always, Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from roving his wife’s body as she walked out of the en-suite and into the bedroom, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of sleep shorts ready for bed. As he lounged on top of the duvet, back propped up against the headboard, his gaze travelled down the lines of her body and he frowned as he spotted something on her thigh that looked different.

Suddenly it dawned on him what it was.

“Is that…is that a new tattoo?” Steve sat up, looking at her leg then to her face, and back again.

“Technically it’s an addition to an existing one.” Katie grinned as she made her way to the bed and knelt up in front of Steve. His hands gently fell to her hips as he examined the new ink. The area surrounding one of the 4 stars that formed part of the original tattoo had been shaded with red and gold in a water colour effect. He didn’t need her to explain, but she did anyway.

“That’s for Tony.” she said softly, “And these…” she pointed out 4 additional stars she’d had placed within the existing design “One for each of the kids.”

“Not one for me?” he eventually pouted playfully, looking back up at her.

She bit her lip and grinning slightly, pulled his shirt over her head leaving her top half naked, and she turned her torso slightly the left, holding her arm over her breasts so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the design that was now etched onto her skin just underneath her left breast on her rib cage.

It was his wings. The wings he had worn on his helmet. The wings adopted by the Howlies as their symbol in the war. And above that sat a star that was the same as the others on her thigh.

“That’s for you…” she said softly.

Steve was struggling for words. There was something he was finding outrageously sexy about the fact she’d had that placed somewhere that no one would really see other than him. And something ridiculously sentimental about the design she had chosen.

“Do you like it Soldier?” she asked softly, biting her lip.

He looked up at her, smiling as his hands gripped her bare waist and he pulled her down with him so she was led on top of him. “I love it.”

“I love you…” she grinned, melting into his arms as his hands ran up her bare back, her nose nudging his softly.

“Back at ya pretty girl.” he smirked, before his lips claimed hers in a heated kiss.

 @the-omni-princess​  @momobaby227​ @geekofmanythings16​ @angelofhell-666​ @thewackywriter​ @marvelfansworld​  @cobalt-gear​  @asgardlover75​ @jennmurawski13​  @jtargaryen18​ @saiyanprincessswanie​  @navispalace​ @patzammit​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​  @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @djeniiscorner​  @ayamenimthiriel​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​  @disneylovingal​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​  @official-and-unstable-satan​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​

#star’s celebration challenge #stark spangled banner #oneshot #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #stark spangled forever

[capsized-heart]

Lady Liberty and The Captain / Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (1940′s Brooklyn AU)

Summary: You are a rising young star and the newest breakout actress in Hollywood’s Golden Age! When war finally descends on the west, your reputation as America’s Sweetheart finds you cast in a promotional picture alongside Captain America himself.

Yet, he looks eerily familiar, like your Stevie from childhood…

Word count: 4.7k+

Warnings: fluff!!

A/N: hello, everyone!!!! I hope you’re staying home, warm, and safe during these crazy times. I’ve been snuggling with my doggie and continuing with my university’s online classes in my final semester..absolutely crazy how things are rn. I hope this new story can help brighten up your day just a little bit.

First of all, I just want to say thank you💖💛for all the love that old and new readers alike have shown this blog recently. I’ve been writing on this platform for a little less than a year and I never thought l’incendie would blow up as much as it has. You guys are amazing. I’m really excited and eager to share new pieces and hope you enjoy the content I have coming! Please don’t hesitate to pop in and say hi, or shoot me a message. I’ve really enjoyed connecting with readers and would love to know your thoughts on my fics, or just to talk about fandom stuff! Timmy included! PAHAHA

So, this chapter is gonna be a part of a mini-series for a 1940′s writing challenge and I’m using the prompt of wartime romance! This will probably be split into two or three parts and I will tag the host as soon as the last chapter goes up, I’ll most likely make a masterlist in the end as well. Reader has a name in this fic, but hopefully the choice of name will make sense later on :D

As always, feel free to drop a ask/message if you’d like a tag in the next update.

ENJOY!

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Film: ‘Apple of Discord’, Lola Swanson’s Dazzling Debut! 

By NICHOLAS WATTS                                                                                                                      September 1, 1943

----------

The film drama from the original screenplay written and directed by Andrew Campbell opened to a roar of applause and acclaim at the Radio City Music Hall yesterday evening. Apple of Discord is a reimagining of the myth and Plato’s allegory, focusing on the tumultuous, profoundly elegant life of a young noblewoman during the Trojan wars.  

The film’s frontrunner and leading lady is Hollywood newcomer, young and fresh-faced Lola Swanson. Swanson’s performance is so thoughtful, so unfaltering, so intelligent and controlled that it is hard to believe this is little Lola’s long awaited motion picture debut. And what a debut this is! 

Starring opposite Hollywood veterans Sean Schultz, Kash Dennis, and Gracie Smith, this star-studded cast packs punches and sizzling chemistry and yet, Swanson does not fizzle out but confidently holds her own, demanding your attention in every scene, and rightfully so. Watching Swanson in this picture is watching a major actress in the making. 

Born and raised in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen before moving to Brooklyn to pursue acting, some may recognize Lola from her daytime television roles in Insanity and Passion, It’s a Date! and as Jessica in Jessica Davis Returns.

Now we know these roles were preparing Swanson for the debut of the decade.   

“APPLE OF DISCORD” is now showing at the Radio City Music Hall and Cinema 2. Tickets at 25 cents. Running time: 139 minutes.

★★★★☆

——

APPLE OF DISCORD, written and directed by Andrew Campbell; director of photography, Laszlo Kovacs; edited by John Wright; music by John Barry; released by Universal Pictures.

----------

The newspaper trembles hard between your fingers, threatening to tear its edges. Pulse pounding, ears ringing. You can’t stop smiling. You feel like crying. 

You reread the words again and again, the words written by legendary film critic Nicholas Watts, the man you’ve only dreamed of making an impression on, that he’d someday see you in a picture. And here he’s written a glowing review of your major motion picture debut. 

You erupt in a fit of giggles and screams, twirling around the small space of your apartment in a swirl of nightgown, pinned curls. A neighbor, Mr. Krisinski, you think, pounds on your wall to shut you up. 

It’s still early morning and you had gone downstairs at first light to buy a paper from a newsboy. Outside your window, the streets of New York already yawn and bustle with morning commute. The movement of people, gleaming automobiles against the red brick buildings and muted gray of Manhattan. Warm sun washes over it all, your heart brimming and full, mirroring the glow of golden dawn. 

You feel on top of the world. Maybe you’ll finally make it here.

Your phone rings. You rush over to the mint blue rotary telephone on your bedside table, snatch up the receiver before Mr. Krisinski can break down your door with all the racket you’re making.

“Hello?” You say into the mouthpiece, cradling it between your hands. You feel breathless, high strung and buzzing, like you’d just downed a whole case of Coca-Cola, whirring with the taste of sugar and success, bubbling with starpower. Maybe it’s Kash or Gracie calling to congratulate you. Hell, maybe even President Roosevelt.

“Lola! It’s me. Have you read the paper?” The cool voice of Peggy asks you through the receiver. You quietly laugh at your own fantastical expectations. Of course it’s Peggy. Punctual, collected Peggy. 

Peggy Carter is your talent agent and manager at MGM. Peggy had snatched you up while you had been working as a background actress on Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca, so hopeful and beholden just to be in the presence of such respected artists, willing to stay the extra hours even after the other girls had gone home when realizing they wouldn’t be seen in the shot. It hadn’t been your first time on a hot set, you were used to the itchy costumes, long hours of endless waiting, and the empty stomachs, but no way you were going to miss a chance to see Ingrid Bergman and Madeleine LeBeau up close. 

Back then, only a few years ago yet a lifetime away it seems, Peggy had been a casting assistant, seeing your dedication and marching right up to you between takes to hand you her card. On the back, written in smooth blue ink, a time the next morning for an audition at MGM Studios in downtown New York. Eight o'clock sharp. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night after you wrapped.

She’s worked at getting you into audition rooms and meetings for years, pushing you onto writers, production assistants, riggers, directors. She had secured you an audition with Andrew Campbell after “accidentally” leaving your headshot in his mailroom and later calling his assistant with threats of stolen property. MGM’s new fresh face had been penciled in for a side read the following week. 

Fierce, ingenious, and your own bright star, you’ve risen through the ranks and fought your way up with Peggy at your side. 

“Yeah, Peg. I have it here in front of me. This is...absolutely nuts.” 

“Not really, you were brilliant in the picture, darling. But it’s a comfort to know Watts has finally replaced that cotton in his brain with some sense.”

Another laugh from you, twirling the telephone cord around your finger.

“Let me have this one, Peg.”

“If you insist.” 

You hear the rustling of newspaper from the other end. You can practically see Peggy sitting at her desk, perusing the paper over a morning cup of coffee, her hair curled, makeup and nails all scarlet red and perfect. The golden placard glittering on the frosted glass of the door. 

Margaret Carter, Casting Director.

“I’m calling to tell you about an offer we received this morning from Paramount. I think you should take it.” 

That rush of giddiness burns bright again in your veins, pulse skyrocketing. 

“Paramount? Geez, what did they say?”

“They want you for a promotional picture that’s being produced by Senator Brandt. Brandt is hoping to boost the homefront’s war bond sales with a little starpower from you and from Captain America. You’ve seen his posters, haven’t you? That costumed bloke?”

You have. Plastered everywhere and looking like an absolute buffoon. Nice physique, though. 

The disappointment that settles in your stomach is ugly and cold, like a fruitless pit, hard, rough, a sour taste in your mouth. It’s stupidly childish, yet your own expectations for your first movie, first box office hit, for that very first taste of the promised fame and fortune of success, begin to blink out. Expectations you’ve held on to since you were a little girl, since you realized this is the type of work you want to do for the rest of your life.

You’ve managed to impress Nicholas Watts, the most cynical film critic in all of Hollywood, and this is your big break? A Paramount picture featuring you and a tights-wearing mascot?

Peggy is practically asking you to star alongside Mickey Mouse.

“Is that all they offered?” You respond. You wince at the demanding, ungrateful tone. Afterall, showbiz has hardened you to go after what you want, to take and take because this lifestyle does not guarantee anything. You’re told no more than you are yes, the constant rejection having molded you into a diamond tough girl, glitzy and solid, unbreakable, beautiful. 

But how many girls would kill to be in your place?

“The only sensible deal. They also offered you the role of Violet for It’s a Wonderful Life, and Ruthie in The Grapes of Wrath.”

“What?! Peggy, contract me for those instead!” 

“Well, I’m not going to. And you listen well as to why.”

You twist your lips together. Peggy’s voice filters clipped and disapproving through the phone line, the way she always gets before she offers you damned good advice. 

“Not just Watts is impressed with your work, Lola. You’re finally turning heads and for all good reasons. Anyone can get in front of a camera if they have the right look. But you’ve shown them that you have the look and the raw talent. Critics are saying you’re rivaling Judy Garland, darling. And you’re telling me you want the part of a lousy love interest? A secondary daughter? All because the pictures have big names behind them and people may go see it?

“No,” you mumble.

“No is right. You know better than anyone that people expect young stars to burn out fast so they can take their place. It’s all business. If I put you in for those roles, we’d be playing right into their hand. We’d use up all your potential in one summer. The public would get sick of seeing your face in every big picture. We have to earn their affection, darling. It’s slow and tame and not always glamorous, but this deal is smart.”

You listen, silently.

“Morale is low. War is when people turn to familiar pastimes and simple pleasures. To treat themselves, to take their minds off all the grizzly headlines. Captain America embodies all of that and more. If we take this, I promise you, Lola, that people will remember you as the girl who got them through the darkest times. This will do wonders for your career years down the line. And then, if you still want to play Violet, I’ll phone Frank Capra myself.” 

You close your eyes and draw in a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“Well, it looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Wonderful. I’ll phone Paramount now. We’ll be in touch.” 

--

Growing up with poor Irish immigrants for parents, the rare moments you could afford to splurge on luxuries, you spent them at local cinemas and theaters with your brother. Any day was a good one when you and Samuel bought tickets for a noon screening, the cheapest showing of the day, scraping together pocket change to split a popcorn if you were feeling extra special.

And reclining in a nearly empty theater with refreshments and goodies between the two of you, you’d watch the silver screen with hope in your mouth and stars in your eyes. In here, it no longer mattered how little money you had, or the discrimination your family faced, or the war in Europe, or the meager apartment you’d go home to, lucky if the electricity and heating had been paid for. In here, nothing else mattered but the visual stories. 

And you realized that you wanted to help tell them. You wanted to be in front of the cameras, to embody characters and personas and let audiences worldwide empathize and identify with your performances. 

You’ve loved playing make-believe since you were a little girl, having never really grown out of it. You could do it, you think. Dangerous dreams, perhaps, but what child doesn’t hold this wish within them? To see their name in lights and to be admired and commended, but most of all, to provide for their family?

 How hard could it be?

**

At sixteen, you land your first speaking role. It’s pathetic. You’re working on set as background, per usual, only this time, the director picks you out from the crowd and gives you the line of, “Good morning, sir.” You’re to look off camera as the actor playing Kent entered the scene and you would then say your line. 

You’re stupidly excited. Three simple words. You’ll be uncredited, of course, but your face would finally be seen! With butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the scene resets, Kent takes his mark, the cameras roll, and you deliver.

The scene is cut from the final reel. 

**

You pound the pavement. You scour newspapers and flyers for casting calls, you phone agencies and playhouses, you save up to get your picture taken on glossy photo paper. You keep looking. You keep working in background until you can land a steady role. 

Then, you finally get one. A miniscule part of a friendly neighborhood girl on a TV drama for CBS. You only have mere minutes of screen time, but the checks that arrive in the mail from Columbia Broadcasting System after your first few episodes air say otherwise. 

You open a savings account. You plant your paychecks and watch them grow into a comfortable sum of money. You land another guest starring role for a daytime soap, the secretary of the title character. Combined with your parents’ salaries from your mother’s sewing and your father’s work on the railroads, you become the main breadwinner.  

You move your family out of Hell’s Kitchen, out of your cramped, dark apartment. You sign a new lease under your new stage name and move to Brooklyn together. 

**

Brooklyn is slightly cleaner, but the familiar hustle and bustle, the noise of shopkeepers and dialects and children and cars is comforting, grounds you in your roots. When your CBS drama wraps months later with your last check in the mail and you’re looking for your next gig, your brother works odd jobs to help shoulder the burden. Brick laying, chimney sweeping, milk and mail delivering, Samuel becomes no stranger to any and all work, so long as it pays. You become a typist on the side as you wait for auditions and callbacks. 

Samuel tells you his aspirations to be a poet, a writer. He hasn’t said a word to your parents, but he shows you the small bound notebook he carries with him, leafing through pages of prose and verse. You encourage him to submit his work to newspapers, publishers. He gives you a shy smile, says he’ll consider it as soon as you get your motion picture debut. You shake on it. Together, your already close bond of brother and sister grows stronger as you each work to support your art.

**

You’re waiting for Samuel to finish his shift so you can catch a late showing of His Girl Friday, a warm September day when you first meet Bucky Barnes down at the wharfs. He’s tall, lean, and glistening with sweat when he rounds out of the warehouse with an armful of crates and nearly knocks you off the pier.

“Hey, watch it!” he snaps. His eyes flash like the water around you, blue and cold and dangerous. Brown locks curl with perspiration against his forehead, the sleeves of his workshirt rolled up over his shoulders, the exposed skin of his throat and arms flushed and tan. 

Embarrassed, you try to steady him, to which he growls in annoyance and spins out of your reach. He makes a great show of bearing the weight himself, grumbling as he sets down his load. You don’t miss the way the muscles in his back flex and dip. It isn’t until he slowly stands back up, wiping his palms on his khakis, that you get a good look at each other.

The hostility in his eyes softens ever so slightly, simmering into a look that cinches your chest tight when his gaze travels shamelessly up from your kitten heels to the curves of your lips and cheek. His breathing is still labored as he surveys you and you can feel heat and color blooming against your skin. When his eyes finally settle on your face, you can’t decide whether you want to slap or kiss him. 

“You lost or something, honey?” He asks with a whisper of a smile. He strolls in a lazy half-circle in front of you and moves to go back up the ramp to the warehouse. Then, he pauses and turns back to you.

“Have we met before? I swear I recognize you from somewhere.”

This delights you deliciously, that a handsome young man you’ve met by chance has seen your work. Not glamorous, acclaimed roles by any means, but recognition nonetheless. You bite the inside of your lip to suppress your smile and give him a coy, bashful flutter of your eyelashes.

“If that were the case, I’m sure I’d remember you.” 

He grins wolfishly, pleased, and takes a step closer. “Yeah? Think you’ll let me take you out for dinner tonight?”

“She’s got plans with me, Buck.” Samuel’s voice carries across the water. Your brother emerges with wooden boxes and sets them between you and Bucky in a huff, as if he’s implementing a physical barrier, both childish and endearing. Bucky glances at you and Samuel.

“Are you two..?”

“Steady? No. She’s my sister.”

Bucky snorts and his eyes find you again, glittering in the evening light. “You never told me you had a sister, Sammy. And such a looker too..”

“Makes you wonder why I never brought her up,” retorts Samuel and gives him a playful shove, traps him briefly in a headlock. “At least Steve wouldn’t ogle.”

“Stevie would get a nose bleed and pass out.” You hear Bucky grunt back. Samuel moves as if to dump him into the drink and Bucky pinwheels, scrambling. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Satisfied, Samuel releases him and socks him in the shoulder for good measure. Bucky stumbles, looking boyish and smooth despite his shirt and hair all disheveled. 

You’ve seen his type in casting offices all across New York; bold, alluring, and charismatic. It’s a look and type you’ve longed to act opposite of someday, as all young starlets dream of, but a look that simultaneously sparks the feminine temptation that shivers between your breasts. You wonder if Bucky would look the same in a dark bedroom, with him on top of you and your fingers running over his back…

Bucky grins toothily when he catches you staring and shoots you a wink. None of those movie star hopefuls hold a candle now to his rugged, spirited charm.

Samuel guides you back up the pier so he can punch out his time card and the two of you can be on your way. And as you’re about to set foot on solid ground, you hear Bucky call out to you.

“What’s your name, honey?” 

Samuel sighs and shakes his head. “Cripes.” He mutters to himself. Before Samuel can stop you, you laugh and turn back to the water with a fresh and girlish aire, warmth and excitement whispering through your veins, young and naive and sixteen.  

“Dolores!” You give him your full name, your real name. For once, you don’t want to be Lola Sparks. You want to be your natural, honest self, the girl who deserves young love and joy and an untroubled adolescence. The sound of your voice rings clear and strong, the diva that you are, and Bucky’s mouth curves upwards.

“See you ‘round, Dot.” 

**

Much to Samuel’s displeasure, you tail your big brother around the docks like a lost pup whenever you have time. And being a C-list actress and a part-time typist, you have plenty of it. You loiter with the excuse of bringing sack lunches, waiting on Samuel and Bucky at the edge of the warehouses. It’s lonesome and bores you to no end being all by yourself, until one afternoon when someone is already waiting at your spot by the pier.

Small, skinny as his own shadow with a fringe of blonde hair, he leans hunkered and folded within himself, timid and seemingly conscious of how he occupies space. His jacket droops over his shoulders, eyes downcast even as you approach. He has a sketchbook in his hands, concentrated as the pencil moves across the page in fast, gentle strokes. You see an impressive likeness of the piers and Bucky’s distant figure in charcoaled lines.

“That’s really something.” You say.

He jolts so hard the paper tears and he crumples it into his fist in a single motion. “Huh?” he answers. When he looks to you, you realize his eyes are a pretty shade of teal. He flushes, petrified, the tips of his ears coloring pink. You feel horrible when he goes to pocket the ball of paper.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” you breathe. Gently, you offer your palm to him. “If you’re not keeping it, do you mind if I have it?” You ask softly. A few seconds pass and he shakes his head before placing it in your hand. You unfurl the paper, carefully smooth it out as he watches you from the corner of his eye. 

Shyness is a barrier of art you’ve known all too well, from your own experiences in audition rooms to your brother’s reluctance to find a publisher, you understand that sting of insecurity better than anyone. So, you let him watch you as you admire his work, let him know of his talent and let your actions speak for you. You smile and slip the drawing into your purse. 

Then, his stomach grumbles audibly, almost comically loud. He folds his arms around his stomach, so tight you’re afraid he’ll snap in half. You quickly reach into one of your paper bags and hand him a sandwich wrapped in cellophane and a can of lemonade. 

“Here, let’s trade.” 

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I can’t accept..” he starts. The timbre of his voice is surprisingly gallant and sure, pleasant, sweet. You have a gut feeling that the world has been taking advantage of that kindness his whole life, scaring him away from genuine compassion, that everything must have a catch. It makes you press harder.

“I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do for sneaking up on you.” He eyes you warily and again that feeling of regret washes over you. “Consider it payment.” You smile. 

Finally, he takes Samuel’s lunch from you and unwraps the sandwich. He eats quickly and quietly, draining the lemonade only minutes later. Perhaps it’s his bony statue, but you feel happy to see this stranger eat.

When he’s finished, he wipes his mouth and turns to you. His lips, pretty, pink, part as if about to speak, yet no words leave him. Instead, he stands frozen with that transfixing blue-green gaze keeping you still, lingering. 

That is until a stream of brilliant scarlet red dribbles down his chin and splatters onto his dress shirt. He pinches his nose, doubling forward and his flustered complexion matching the blood spilling from his nostrils.

“You must be Steve,” You laugh lightly and quickly hand him your handkerchief of cream yellow lace and embroidered flowers. You help steady him as he keeps his head tilted down. “Bucky’s told me all about you.”

Steve groans and presses the handkerchief to his face, blushing all the way down to his neck. 

**

Steve returns your handkerchief days later with an embarrassed hush, carefully cleaned and laundered. It smells of lavender and clean linen and the image of him working the fabric between his thin fingers with soap and suds warms your heart. 

You tell him it’s his. He blooms and keeps it neatly folded in his breast pocket. 

You and Steve quickly grow close in the hours you spend together waiting on Bucky and Samuel. You pack extra lunches for him and sit by the piers chatting, skipping stones as Steve sketches the Brooklyn skyline day in and day out.

“Draw me!” you tease. “Isn’t that the request that all artists want to hear?”

But surprisingly, he does. He always draws you and Bucky and Samuel with striking, intimate familiarity. His sketchbook gradually fills with portraits and pictures of you, sketches that could put your very headshot to shame.

**

After their usual shifts, the four of you head to the drugstore for your ritual of sodas and sundaes. Two pairs, brother and sister and brothers by blood enjoying a rare wartime treat. With the rations on sugar, it’s a special and memorable circumstance just to be together and sharing something sweet.

It’s there, at your corner booth in Wolfe’s Pharmacy over ice cream, that Bucky opens up a paper for that night’s television network schedule and sees your name. 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Dot,” he says. “What do others call you?”

Defeated, you twist your lips, hesitant to break the short spell of normalcy you’ve had with your new friends. Samuel sips at his Coke with a silent grin. 

Time for the truth to come out.

“Well, ‘doll’, by Stevie,” you giggle and toe Steve’s foot under the table. Steve shyly shrinks back into his seat. “But CBS calls me Lola.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. 

“Get out of here. You’re pulling my leg..”

“I absolutely am not.”

“Sammy, tell me she’s pulling my leg.”

“She’s not.”

Two pairs of brilliant blue eyes dart between you and your brother. Bucky’s face breaks into an open smile, laughing. Steve lurches forward. 

“Have you ever met anyone famous?” Steve prods with a hint of that honest, innocent charm.  

You wrinkle your nose sheepishly. “Mason Cook?”

“Who?” Bucky asks around a mouthful of sundae.

“Exactly.” Samuel snorts.

“Well, I’m sure he’s very talented.” Says Steve.

You swipe his maraschino cherry and let the stem dangle between your lips. “At least Stevie believes in me.” 

“Dot, honey. I saw your pilot episode. If anyone’s a fan, it’s me.” Bucky feigns hurt, hand to his chest. 

You stick out your bottom lip before sucking in the stem, working it into a tight knot in your mouth. “Are you still gonna be when your girl is signing autographs with John Wayne?”

You place the knotted stem on your napkin. Bucky nearly chokes. 

“I better be.”

Samuel coughs. Steve giggles. 

**

You thank your stars that your secret doesn’t change anything between Steve and Bucky. They treat you just the same; as Samuel’s baby sister who tags along with the boys. The teasing, the fleeting looks all unchanging. 

Girls, you’ve unfortunately realized, are catty and mean. You’re competing for roles, after all. But with Bucky and Steve, your first taste of homecoming since moving to Brooklyn, you don’t have to worry about silly competition, or fame, or being the best in the room. They keep you level-headed, reminding you of your girlhood and life’s simple pleasures.

Bucky drives you and Steve around town in the company truck on weekends. Hopscotch and jacks on brick roads and warm nights, watching sunsets until the sky blushes peach and mango yellow at Coney Island. 

A Saturday afternoon on Rockaway Beach, a vacation for you all after a draining week of work and auditions when Bucky promises to win you a stuffed bear when he sees you eyeing the one on careful display. 

“Buck..Bucky, give it a rest, we can try the next one.” Steve chides.

Another plastic ring pings off the neck of a glass bottle. Bucky curses, rings his hands together and slaps another dollar onto the counter.

You and Steve trade looks. Bucky’s been at it for ten minutes. At this rate, you know you’ll be walking on the train tracks home tonight.

So, you and Steve huddle close and cheer him on. Do it for our doll! says Steve. Finish it so you’ll stop wasting money, you dolt! you cry. Hell, even the vendor finds it humorous and joins in.

And when Bucky wins that grand prize and you’re handed a teddy bear as big as Stevie, you hoist it on your back, careful to not let it touch gravel or dust as the three of you walk in line with the train tracks later that evening.

Paradise, a sheltered haven from the broken landscapes and realities that the European newsreels broadcast home in grim black and white. 

**

True to Bucky’s word, they become your biggest supporters, helping you run lines and monologues and accompanying you to auditions. Bucky’s not bad for a scene partner, and Steve’s awareness of emotion and character motivation is impressive.

The attention you receive from casting directors and auditionees doesn’t hurt your chances either, lanky Steve and smoldering Bucky wishing you luck before stepping into the green room.

You book a drama. Then, a short film. Then another. You call them your lucky charms. 

And when your humble little short film “premiers” at the corner cinema, squeezed in between an empty noon showing of a cartoon rerun, Steve and Bucky whoop and holler when your character is shown on screen. They throw popcorn and gumdrops, jostle you by the shoulders. Bucky even runs down the aisle and mimes kissing the projector screen.

“That’s our girl! That’s our Dot!”

The usher threatens to throw you out. Steve tells him you’ve paid good money for your tickets and you’ll stay and watch as long as you please.

The following week, you’re scouted by Peggy Carter. 

Your world, your career will never be the same.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

[smolbeandrabbles]

Loser Like Me - Intern!Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X @crawlingmist @mandy23b  @wltz-bby @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

Babe you’re platinum all the way

Author’s Note: Before we even begin - Mini Series for sure!  Also I’ve never seen anyone do this before me, so here we are!

I know by now if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time you know how much I love this man. With my heart and soul. However - there’s a particular scene in the movie I just... really don’t like. It’s the Intern scene. I won’t go into a whole lot of detail, but it hits me deep on a personal level, and I hate that it’s played for laughs. I thought it needed some ‘rectifying’! And came up with this little series. 😊 I really hope you enjoy taking this journey with Nolan, as much as you have my others!

Disclaimer: RPO characters/storyline not mine / whilst following what they did with him in the movie, some of this will be influenced by Lacero (because of course it will!)

I wanted to write a quick note about his age! I headcanon every Mendo that does not have a canon age as the same age Ben was when the movie was shot. So... For RPO that’s about 46/47. Making Nolan 47 in 2045. The intern scene takes place in 2025. Making Nolan, as stated in the fic, 27.

Premise: Nolan Sorrento has a head full of dreams that he’s sure will be actioned by the OASIS creators any day now. But fetching coffee is all anyone at Gregarious Games thinks Nolan is good at. Lucky for him, you see things a little differently...

Words: 6397

Warnings: In general - people being douches to Interns. / swearing

_____

Yeah, you may think that I'm a zero But hey, everyone you wanna be Probably started off like me You may say that I'm a freak show But hey, give it just a little time I bet you're gonna change your mind

All of the dirt you've been throwin' my way It ain't so hard to take, that's right 'Cause I know one day you'll be screaming my name And I'll just look away, that's right

Push me up against the locker And hey, all I do is shake it off I'll get you back when I'm your boss I'm not thinkin' 'bout you haters 'Cause, hey, I could be a superstar I'll see you when you wash my car

Just go ahead and hate on me and run your mouth So everyone can hear Hit me with the worst you've got and knock me down Baby, I don't care Keep it up and soon enough you'll figure out You wanna be, You wanna be A loser like me

---

The alarm went off at 6:40am. As it did every day – but Nolan Sorrento was already half way ready, and had to skid out of the bathroom to snap it off, before any of his neighbours complained again. Sometimes he just couldn’t sleep – and he felt it probably wiser to just get up and get on. Sorrento’s head was full of ideas, ideas that he knew would help him make it big someday. Hopefully right here where he worked, at Gregarious Games… once he got a job that wasn’t an internship, that was. And - when he wasn’t fetching coffee, or running papers, or trying to book meeting rooms and call other people that worked around the company as requested by those higher up - Nolan would sit with his notebook and plot out what his future would look like, and the tech he would use to get there, whether it be available right now, just within reach, or something that one day he’d be at the forefront of making. He dreamed, because right now that was all he could do. Nolan had a job and that was enough to be thankful for, he had his life… which was more than could be said for some people. Sweeping back into the bathroom he studied himself in the mirror for a moment with a small sigh. He liked to give himself a daily pep-talk, because there wasn’t anyone else that was going to do that for him either. ‘Okay, Nolan, you got this. For real this time – they’ll ask you to fetch coffee and then you can walk in and be like… Guys! Your OASIS project – what about if you did this-!? How can they not love it? Maybe they’ll bump you to tech? Maybe they’ll make you a partner!’ It hadn’t worked out for him so far, but he could dream – maybe today was the day! He gave himself a firm nod, running his hand through his thick dark blonde hair to neaten it (at least the highlights were going to look good once he got into proper lighting!) and then dashed from the bathroom again; throwing a suit jacket on – that didn’t match his outfit but was good enough – he looped his pass around his neck, grabbed his keys and his satchel before heading out of the door. No time for breakfast, he’d think about that later! First things first; getting into the office. It was still nerve wreaking for him to walk up to that office with coffee; it used to give him shakes just thinking about maybe getting the coffee order wrong, but now he knew he had that down. Nolan knew that Gregarious Games was on the verge of something not just great, but phenomenal. People all around the company treated it’s two founders like Gods, and Nolan knew exactly why – he was doing the same. They were creating the seemingly impossible; giving people an escape from the hell that everyone was living. The longer he was here, the more Nolan gained confidence – Morrow at least knew his name now, and he was also privy to the fact that not everyone got to interact with these two as much as he did. It came to the point where he actually liked being asked to fetch coffee for them, because he’d get to try out a new idea. “-What about this-?” “Maybe later, Nolan, thanks for the coffee…” “But I really think the OASIS could just use-” “Thanks, Nolan. Really, but it’s a busy time.” “Well maybe-” “Nolan…” Then he had to walk from the room with a deep breath and try not to get so disheartened. No matter, there would always be tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that… on into infinity. But Sorrento smiled gently, one day he’d come up with something that would be so mind-blowing they would have to listen to him! And he was getting close, he was sure of it. With that thought, he jogged back down the stairs, confidence sky high. “Oh-! Nolan-!” He turned to the voice calling him, “Yes?” “Could you come help me with something… I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done wrong on this presentation… I just can’t fix it…” “Sure-!” “OH. And, whilst you’re at it, would you mind picking up my printing? Thanks, Nolan!” He blinked several times watching them walk away passed the printer, and then sighed again – well, he still had a ways to go yet…

Nolan was aware that there were people in this company who didn’t like him, that thought he was strange. The pop culture he consumed was obscure at best, or... not obscure enough at worst. Nolan liked the modern stuff, the early millennium. The remnants of Y2K... where everyone lost their heads thinking computers and clocks would all stop working. Apparently, that wasn’t highly valued, and everyone thought that the 80s was where it was at. Nolan wasn’t sure of that himself, and thought maybe most of them were just posturing because that was the era that Halliday and Morrow were obsessed with. It made sense; they’d grown up in that time. Nolan was just far more nostalgic for things he’d grown up with - than a time he didn’t even really know.

Other people he figured didn’t like him for other reasons, but he’d never quite got the opportunity to find out what those were. Only that it felt a lot like being shoved up against a high school locker again. And he was 27. There were a couple in particular that liked to get physical; only this time they decided to do it when he was carrying two full cups of coffee. “Whoops-” “Shit! Sorry-!” As if he sounded anywhere near it. “It’s okay though right, that’s your job, you can just make more.” If he wasn’t already on a time limit, “And clear that up whilst you’re at it.” “What do you get a full employee badge for making coffee anyway?” “Oh no-! You read that wrong mate, it’s just an intern one.” “Ah-! Not permanent then? Coffee can’t be that good-!” “Less permanent now-!!!” Nolan bit his lips together, because he knew what would happen if he retaliated, these two were full time employees that (probably) had way more important jobs than he did. He knew which one of them was more likely to be walked out of the door after a confrontation, and he needed this.

“Do you two assholes want to leave him the fuck alone-!?” They all turned, to an impatient looking woman standing with her arms crossed. And this would be a moment that, although he didn’t know it yet, would go down in history in Nolan Sorrento’s life. For this was the moment he met you. You could not have been glaring at them both harder - and felt that for the man stuck in the middle, it was pretty fortunate that you walked by. “Y-Y/N-!” “Don’t give me that, why don’t you go bother someone else-!?” “But he-!” “Is trying to get coffee from point A to point B, I didn’t realise Gregarious games hired children these days that would be such a hindrance. Why don’t you get back to your desks and do your jobs-!?” They didn’t dare argue with you – skulking off, although muttering profusely. And Nolan was nearly speechless, but also realised there was coffee all over the floor: “Ah-! Ahhh-! Shoot-!” “No, no, no...!!” You moved towards him, hands gently pushing him back to standing; “I got this, you go make them again...!” “No, no, I can’t leave you to-” “Nolan, it’s okay... I got this...”  He stopped suddenly; now he would know if he’d seen you before. He would. Nolan was good with things like that. He opened his mouth, but you ushered him back towards the kitchen; “I’ll help in a moment, just let me do this!”

Sorrento didn’t know what else to do but wait for you in the kitchen, by now he probably could have gone outside and got a coffee order, but in you walked, throwing away whatever you’d used to tidy up the spillage. “Good thing I like the smell of coffee...” You wiped your hands and turned to him, with a gentle smile; “Sorry about those guys. They’re self-entitled assholes who shouldn’t have the jobs that they do. Alas, I am not a hiring manager... are you alright?” “Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You nodded, “I can see that.” “F-forgive me, Y/N...” that is what they’d called you, “but...” “Oh; I’ve heard all about you - Nolan Sorrento. And your ideas!” He looked away for a moment, aware that he was blushing, “But also that you make one hell of a cup of coffee...” that just made him blush harder. “You also do a little bit of work in my department, so I’ve seen you around. I could use a mind like yours, y’know? Maybe I’ll have to get you in for experience...” You nodded to the half-made coffee; “I’ll help, if you teach me how the boys upstairs like it.” “Oh... y-yeah sure...” Nolan moved aside as you crossed the kitchen, “What’s your department?” “Technology. So, they do all the ideas and spec and testing, and my team codes it. We also run all diagnostics on errors, though the less we see of those the better!” “Your team-!?” “I like manage like 2 people, it’s nothing.” But Nolan was staring at you like all his wildest dreams had come true. “...Wow. That’s... that’s incredible-!” “If I could get the right people in my team, it’d be more so...” You eyed him curiously, “And somehow you’re only an intern?” “I’ll take what I can get.” You giggled “Until one of the big plans comes off?” “Yeah I guess...” That faint shade of pink was back “I admire that.” “What?” “The confidence to tell Halliday and Morrow your thoughts. The imagination it takes to have ideas like that. It’s cutting edge stuff, Nolan. I couldn’t do that - I am more... the girl who executes the idea. And turns your dream into a virtual reality... but I don’t have such a knack for original content.” You gave him another sweet smile that had him turning quickly back to the coffee; “Now why don’t you teach me how to do this - and I’ll explain why it’s a little late.” “Y-yeah... lets... do that!” ***

Overall Nolan was pretty harmless, he kept himself to himself and did every task that was asked of him. You made a point of finding him to say hello, and chat to him for a few minutes every time you passed his desk. And you noticed that when you approached him he always looked quiet and subdued, but by the time you moved on he was joyful and animated and it always hurt you to have to move on. Still the smile on his face didn’t fade after that. He was full of endless enthusiasm, and more importantly than that – something you felt Gregarious aught to be paying attention to – he was hungry, if work didn’t come to him he’d seek it out, Nolan certainly wasn’t afraid of doing that. Every so often he’d be walking by with someone and you’d catch a snippet of another great idea that filled his head – but more often than not was met with “That’s great, Nolan, but…” You were amazed to see this didn’t deter him; sure he’d look disappointed, but he didn’t give up. Sorrento’s attitude and personality intrigued you, and one afternoon when he was leaving for another coffee run, you made a point of walking with him. That soon became habit, as did joining him for lunch. It didn’t win you a lot of friends, and more often than not you’d be asked ‘What the hell are you thinking!?’ ‘Yeah, Y/N! You actually have talent!’ ‘Nolan Sorrento is never gonna amount to anything. He’s pushing 30 and all he does is make coffee.’ You didn’t understand why, or how, anyone in this office could pick on him. And why everyone just let them get away with it. Your defence of him was ruthless. “He’s a fucking INTERN, not a coffee boy – oh my god! It’s about time someone actually taught him something about the business. Nolan’s got a head full of ideas and if no one else is gonna utilize him, I fucking will – because it only takes one job ad or someone to recognise what he has and he’ll be off to IOI!” “They can have him.” “You know what, screw all of you! When Nolan’s running this place and you’re all begging for jobs, I hope to God he remembers what you did to him.”

Nolan was wasted here. But you didn’t want him to be wasted here; he was at times a little too unconventional for your game makers, given his little corner of pop culture (not that he’d opened up to you a lot about that, but occasionally you got a glimpse of it by what he referenced and laughed at), or a little too ‘business’ for your co-founders - monetization was practically a curse word… Yet Nolan had a mix of talent that barely anyone else in this company did, and no one was giving him a chance to use it. Worse still to you – an Intern, who should be learning everything the business has to offer and be given every opportunity to get stuck into it, was doing not a lot more than fetching and filing paperwork. And sure, you were younger than him, but you wanted to take this into your own hands.

“Hey!” A smile was already present on his face before he looked up; “Hey!” “You busy today?” You folded your arms on top of his desk divider; Nolan looked a little shifty; suspicious of you for a minute. “I mean, I got plenty to be getting on with…” You gave a disappointed sigh; “Aw, see I really needed your help with something.” “…Really!?” He wasn’t about to hide that shock – Nolan hadn’t done anything directly tech related for your department before, and that was your exact remit. “Yeah, but if you-” “No, no!” He stood, “I’d love to help, that’s what I’m here for, right?” You couldn’t help yourself, and giggled, “Did you just become un-busy?” “…Yeah. Yes, I think so.” Nolan placed his hands in his pockets with a grin, and waited for you to tell him what to do; “Awesome, let me show you around tech central!” You beckoned him to walk with you, “And for the record, no, I was pretty sure intern meant you were also here to learn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you something. How’s your coding?” “Not a strong suit.” “What did you study?” “Uh… Business and economics… just touching on computing as a minor… why?” You turned back to him very nearly shocked; “At College!?” “Uhm. Yes?” He’s a College grad and we have him paper pushing, my God, no one is ever hearing the end of this! But you just nodded, “What’s the dream Nolan?” He became bashful, looking away from your face for a moment, as if he didn’t dream – or as if every dream he’d been working for was suddenly stupid; “Uh. I…” “C’mon, everyone has one…” You touched his arm delicately, “Hand on heart, ten years from now, when you’re close to 40, where do you wanna be?” Sorrento looked a little affronted by your close to 40 remark but held his tongue; “Uh. I guess, I’d like to be in charge of a company like this one.” “Good man, right answer.” You swept him into another room – a neat row of 5 desks on one side, and one on the other – no barriers between you – the single desk was covered with paperwork; in the centre a flashing image, highlighting what various coding pieces were about to address in game. You indicated for him to sit at a desk in the row of five, and joined him. “And you?” “None of my dreams are really to do with work…” You shook your head, “I mean, sure I’d like a couple of promotions but I’m kinda okay where I am – as long as I still love what I’m doing. I’d just like to help people, you know? And the OASIS might help people… So,” you breathed, “I’d like to make people happy, and I don’t know how measurable that is, but I think I’d feel pretty good in ten years’ time if I managed that!” Nolan watched you for a second, and your gentle smile, and wondered if you’d even realised that for him at least you’d already completed that goal. Maybe he’d keep that back, for now – but he knew that in ten years’ time he wanted to look back on this moment with you and say “I was your first! You might not know, but it was me!” *** You set him a series of tasks and challenges and, as you did so, explained his way through them, who they were for and the effect that doing them would have on the business or the OASIS itself. Your team kept to themselves but you’d let them do that for now, the group was a little insular and he was an outsider right now, they’d warm to him; you worked with nice guys – not like the assholes who behaved like grade schoolers. Every so often, performing your own tasks, you would ping Nolan a calendar invite. “…What’s that?” He would ask you, and you would tell him “Oh! That’s a meeting with the Head of Marketing… Finance… Engineering… PR and Communications… HR…”, the list was endless – but if you had to create an intern program for him for yourself, you damn well would. You were a little more social and a little more pushy, so you knew you could get him working in all the teams and on projects that actually meant something – starting with your own, then he’d have something to show for it. All he needed was a little boost and a shot to his confidence and Nolan would be away; it was already obvious that he believed in his ideas enough – now you wanted to give him the knowledge to back it all up, and finally let him use what he already knew.

 By the end of the first day Nolan was a little worried that he hadn’t finished all the tasks you had set, and as your team packed up and left for the night, he looked nervous. “Nolan, you okay?” “…I mean I… I still have a few things to do- I-I’ll finish them, I guess I might just be a little late.” You sighed; “Nolan, you’re an intern, honey – you don’t get paid overtime, just finish them tomorrow – It’s fine.” “…T…Tomorrow.” He swivelled his chair to you but didn’t dare look hopeful, “You want me back?” “Yes, of course I want you back, I told you I need you right now! With all that’s going on so close to launch we’re getting stretched pretty thin, and what better place for you to get stuck in than the midst of all this! I mean you’re getting coffee for ‘em, might as well get your line of code in the finished product too, right?” You stood, slipping your jacket on, “That desk is empty, by the way. I don’t really like the idea of you sitting alone out there…” Blush dusted his cheeks again, “You sure they won’t mind?” You scoffed; “Nolan, by the end of the first week they won’t even notice you didn’t sit there before today! Now come on! Go home!” You were right of course, and by day three your team of two were saying good morning to him, and asking how his evening had been. It took Nolan a little while to answer, because he just wasn’t used to it. By the end of the first week it was ’We’re just heading out for coffee, would either of you like anything-!?’ which you liked, because yes, someone should be asking him which coffee he wanted instead of him fetching it. And by the end of week two you were all sitting together at lunch, and when everyone took a five-minute break, Nolan got to participate in office banter and shit talking. “Guys! May I remind you that our office doesn’t have a door-!” “Oh come on, Y/N! You out of all of us are the one most likely to go off on these idiots!” Nolan turned to you, “You do have a tendency to come back from meetings, throw your notebook down and proceed to tell us how much you hate everyone.” “OHHH!!” The other two started howling with laugher, “OH! He’s got ya, Y/N!” “First off I hate all of you! Second, I also hate that you’re all right-!” But you liked this, and you already knew it was doing wonders for him. Sure, from time to time people would swing by and ask if they could take him off you for a second, and he did still do the infamous coffee run; but you let him go at his own discretion. What you were happy to see, was that his old desk started clearing, and Nolan’s files and notes, and everything he’d had on it managed to find its way into your little side room. That’s when coffee started appearing on your desk every morning. Nolan was always in before you, and had clearly expertly memorised your coffee order. At first you thought it was a simple and sweet one off, but it kept happening. Upon telling him he really didn’t have to do it for you, Nolan would smile and say; “Oh! It’s really the least I can do. After all, look at all you’ve already done for me…” Still, you became grateful to see the cups, and as you sat contentedly with them before you started the day you always noticed him beaming out of the corner of your eye; you only liked to pretend you didn’t. About three weeks into Nolan’s stint with you, the project you had him working on was nearing completion, and your intern was fretting about if you’d have him move. “Nolan, you don’t need to panic – you can still sit with us, there’ll still be plenty for you to do here. Besides like I say, once we finish this everyone is going to want to work with you anyway – and seen as you’ve had most of the introductions, there will be things from them to work on – so you can get your holistic business overview!” He’d been through most of the meetings that you’d set up – and as you suspected, some of them weren’t even aware there was an intern to give any work to, leaving the program entirely in your hands. Your boss didn’t seem to mind too much, and it wasn’t interfering with what you were doing otherwise. Eventually you just let Nolan get on with the meetings himself, and given his background all you seemed to gain from it was positive feedback. ‘He’s great!’ ‘I know. But tell him that!’ You thought he was ready for his big break; and breaks didn’t come much bigger than this one; “Hey, Nolan, you’re on first name basis’ with Halliday and Morrow right?” He raised an eyebrow curiously, “Yeah, I guess.” “I got a feeling you know this project pretty damn well by now.” The two in the corner turned to give positive affirmation to this statement. “Uh huh?” He tipped his head, intrigued as to where this might be going – although the looks on their faces told you they already knew; “How’d you like to help me present it to them next week?” ***

If this was the chance that he had been waiting for, then it was huge. Nolan didn’t show it, not on his face, nor in his stance. He was two steps ahead of you on the presentation but he always asked if what he’d done was okay, and everything you told him to add or take out he considered very carefully. “You didn’t have to do this all yourself, you know.” “I just wanted to take pressure off the team. I dunno, if one person works on it, I guess it also looks a little more polished.” You let him have that, and what he created in the end was one of the best presentations you’d ever seen. Using space effectively, but also very minimalist. “Slides don’t matter so long as you explain them, that’s the backing. You’re the draw.” “Someone paid attention in class-!” He beamed at your recognition, “Yeah. I did.” So it was no surprise to you that he presented well. Except Nolan didn’t just present well, he presented to Halliday and Morrow like a professional – and at every moment you got, you allowed yourself to simply be in awe of him. Where was this man when everyone else was being a total jerk? The different between Nolan now commanding the room, and the soft-spoken intern who liked to float his ideas around desperately when given even the smallest margin of opportunity was staggering – they were poles apart and even his smile was confident. If this was a technique Sorrento had perfected, he was damn good at it – but part of you wanted to steal a little of that confidence and inject it into his personality. The presentation ended, and you both took questions; the more technical they became the further you were in your element, and you got to close out by yourself. It would have all been perfect, had someone not thrown in a comment about Nolan finally talking about someone elses ideas. You decided to let it go just this once, because you probably couldn’t have been prouder of him. Nolan had done much the same to you as you had been doing to him when it was your turn to do the talking – and with all your focus elsewhere he couldn’t help but stare at you. He could do it for an elongated period of time when he was standing here; with the type of smile on his face that he assumed you only saw in really sappy old movies. At first he thought it was just nerves, you were kind and sweet and friendly and for the first time since Nolan had started he felt really included in Gregarious. That was before you dragged him into your team, and he knew that from this project alone – and the way you continually alluded to his work even through this presentation – that you were getting him all the exposure he would need. But it wasn’t just a nervous disposition, it wasn’t just because you saw him and what he was capable of, but you made him smile. Really smile. And that smile was on his face from the minute he set about getting ready for work, to late at night as he was falling into bed. Even just looking at you now Nolan consciously realised how much he did think about you – how much more you made him enjoy work. You’d done so much for him and he realised he wasn’t even sure the right way to go about thanking you. Still, Nolan wasn’t so sure he just wanted to thank you. Would you even be interested in being anything more than friends with him? – that just came with the risk of losing you completely. And for a second that hurt, because Nolan couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not even when he felt this strongly; saying anything jeopardised his happiness. Right now, he couldn’t afford that. Even if you said ‘just friends’ - surely things could never be the same… It made his question answering a little distracted, but then, even you seemed a little unfocused until you got into your stride; then his smile came back, and Nolan got to watch you do what you did best. *** You left the room and immediately punched the air “YES! YES! NOLAN! YOU DID IT!!!” You shook his arm, “Oh my god-! You were so good!” You were elated; not only had he been particularly commended on his effort, but several people in the room had already asked if he could help them in their areas. Nolan accepted them all, of course, because he knew as well as you did that once he had all the tools and proved himself, those ideas in his head were one step closer to being a reality. And then maybe Halliday and Morrow would finally put them to use in the OASIS. One step at a time Nolan – he breathed – you made it this far but you have a little while to go. Your dreams have to wait a little longer, but… she gets it, finally someone gets it! Nolan laughed nervously, “Yeah it… it was pretty great-! It felt good, for sure. And you were impeccable, I need to brush up on my technicalities.” “You’ll get there. But you-! Where did that come from? How do you even present like that!? You gotta teach me, I’m not a natural presenter at all.” Nolan wasn’t one for letting you compliment him without continuously fielding them back. You both had to compromise and take credit here-! “WHAT-!? No, no, you present really well… I just… I dunno I guess I kinda find standing up there and throwing a project out to a waiting world kinda… easy.” You couldn’t help but agree with him, thinking on it for a moment, maybe that’s why he was known so much for ideas around here. For the way Nolan would always pitch them; even though his personality would make him out to be a quiet wallflower who did as he was told. Your team were waiting for you when you got back, and seeing you both joking together made them look at one another with knowing smiles. They wondered if you even realised it yourselves yet. You’d been oblivious before, they’d seen it – but Nolan was positively swooning. Yet, you were giving off vibes like you were interested. They’d grabbed a spare packet of confetti from the last time one of the team had a birthday, and as you both entered the room laughing they were staring you down. “I feel like we don’t need to ask, but how did the presentation go-!?” “Well, really… REALLY well!” Nolan flashed a grin, causing them to give each other the same knowing look before laughing themselves and throwing confetti everywhere. “Congratulations-! We knew it!!” For a minute he looked at a loss and you were laughing, quickly explaining the significance of throwing confetti whenever anyone did a good job – although you also had black confetti tucked somewhere for a slightly more ironic version of the celebration. It just made things in the team a little more fun. “OH.” He said, as if he immediately understood and ‘of course how could it be anything else? Teams always do this!’ - but Nolan did smile. “I guess it’s back to it now, right?” “OH NO!” Sorrento also noted your team had their coats on, “You don’t think you’re getting away with just confetti – do ya Nolan-!? It’s celebration time-! We’re going to the BAR!” “Oh?” He wanted to say the bar wasn’t really him, that he was a one drink and go kinda guy, and that really he ought to be saving any money he made and not drinking it… But you were pulling your jacket on too and that made him torn. Again they turned to each other, and they almost wanted to lock the both of you in here until you figured it out yourselves, so they did the next best thing. “Well, you two come when you’re ready.” “Guys, it’s gonna take us like five seconds…” You scanned your emails quickly, but as nothing was urgent opted to sign off. “No, no! Take your time!” “Besides, you know how crowded it gets down at Campari’s, Y/N, we’ll get a table!” “First rounds on me!” You shook your head after them, and turned back to Nolan, tentatively pulling on his coat. “You know, you don’t have to come.” “No- I- It’s for us right, I feel like I should.” “Nolan, it’s alright, really – I’m not the greatest drinker, I’ll have one and head home. Okay, maybe I’ll get a round, it’s my team but… honestly, if bars aren’t your scene.” Nolan shook his head vigorously, blonde hair flying for a moment, meaning he had to scrape it back off his face, slight blush maintained; “No. I want to come. Maybe we can leave together and just have one, right?” “That’s good with me.” You smiled, “But trust me, you do not have to stay.” By the time you got outside they were long gone, and you debated for a moment calling a taxi, before you decided it was better to just walk it and use the exercise. “Man-! I forgot something-!” Nolan turned to you as you suddenly stood stock still on the pavement, “Do you wanna go back?” “No.” You shook your head turning to him, “I forgot to tell you something.” His face immediately turned puzzled, and he straightened before leaning slightly away from you; “What?” You took a deep breath, before beaming, “How proud I am of you. And what you’ve achieved. That I’m just… lucky to have a friend like you… really lucky. We’re pretty like-minded, but different enough for it to work. And I really like being with you Nolan, it makes me happy. I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in a long time and… relaxed and… wow… oh my god…” Your smile faded slowly and your eyes widened, you weren’t looking at his face, or in fact anything at all and you could forget about talking. All you’d succeeded in doing was confusing him; his heart did nothing but sink at the word friend, and for a minute Nolan decided he would have to accept defeat… But suddenly you were talking like him – like the way he felt about you – and it was pouring, until you stopped. Why had you stopped when there was so much more to say? Or Nolan hoped there was – but then did he dare even hope-!? He didn’t hold his breath. You pulled your eyes back to him, and suddenly everything made sense. EVERYTHING made sense, and maybe you were trying to repress it, or you didn’t want to see what you thought you saw. Perhaps you just thought it’d be inappropriate considering, and you didn’t want people thinking you were helping him because of your feelings – but because Nolan Sorrento was worth helping. Now you were standing on a street in the middle of Columbus, Ohio, staring at each other and one thing was clear to you; Nolan projected his feelings. But Nolan wasn’t acting on them. No matter.

You stepped forward, minimal gap though there was between you - because of the way you walked together, shoulders almost always brushing - closing instantly as you pulled him into you. Pushing up on your toes your lips touched his. Nolan froze – he wasn’t even sure of the way he should react. Well – in his head he knew plenty, hold you, pull you closer, kiss you back at the very least!, but his brain would not compute the actions to the rest of his body; he was shocked. Because this was really happening. Nolan could count the number of girlfriends he’d had on one hand, one finger even and it’d never been serious. He also didn’t need both hands to count the number of kisses he’d received – and if he was honest, how many of those were real? How many of them were dares the other party never really wanted to be involved with in the first place? Sorrento didn’t want to dwell on that, and closed his eyes, but if he didn’t do something you would let him go and all too soon. That thought compelled him to wind his arms around you. His kiss back was tentative, as he made sure that was okay to do, but you didn’t pull away from him – encouraged Nolan held you a little tighter. His stomach was full of butterflies and when he thought on it later, all his dreaming didn’t even come close to this feeling – more nervous and more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life. Part of him wanted to go back to his apartment, slam the door and scream in joy (perhaps not, though, that’d only have the neighbours threatening him again) – maybe he could just do that in his head. But right now, Nolan was holding you, and that was all that really mattered. You let each other go gently, both a little breathless, both a little blushy, and both with no idea what to say next. “N… Nolan?” “Yeah?” “I…” “I know…” but his voice pitched, “Me too.” You giggled, finally stealing a look back to his face; “But I meant it.” He nodded, blush rising, “I-I know that too. You said… everything I’ve… wanted to say.” You nodded along, and both of you laughed as conversation became silence once more. Nolan took a deep breath; “Let’s… uh… they, they’re probably waiting for us.” “Yeah. Yeah, good shout!” But as you continued to walk, this time Nolan held his hand out for yours, and felt elated as you took it, entwining your fingers with his. He knew he would have to take this one step at a time – but his confidence was suddenly sky high, and Nolan felt about ready to take on the world. You watched him walk for a moment, how he even seemed to hold himself better – strides giving him the look of a man on a mission. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Nolan Sorrento literally change in front of your eyes. You’d been in relationships before, and although that wasn’t what this was yet, you knew that you were in for a wild ride no matter where it headed. But one thing was for sure, you were going to give him the adorably sweet picture-perfect romance that he deserved.

--- Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! 😊💜

#Nolan Sorrento #Ben Mendelsohn #Ready Player One #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #AMANDA - I can't unsee Cody Ko and this feels like cursed information!! #Special Shoutout to Amanda and Joss for the hair discussion! #150!!! #linzi writes #smol bean drabbles #Thank you Amanda for beta reading parts of this... All the way back in March! #Actually theres a lot of wisps of your ideas from our conversations in here... #It... it gets ropey in places but it's got a strong beginning and strong points SO... #Hopefully you enjoy the baby intern-!! #She's a little Lorena but it also feels like Lorena with the personalities flipped

[sun-daisies]

1, 16, 21 :)

Thank you so much Ri for the ask! <3

1) Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Oh gosh are you enabling me to talk about the only fic I ever talk about uhhh I have a ton of wips at the moment BUT Control is my biggest project and also the one I’m the most excited about (ahem clearly) so unfortunately for you I’m gonna gush about that one in particular. 

Control is a season 1 Hydra!Skye that focuses heavily on trauma recovery - oh and fleshing out her powers because gosh, they limited her so much in canon. I love love love exploring the mind and introspection and sensory overload writing and Skye is the perfect candidate for that. Control gets heavy and I’m definitely pushing myself as a writer with it - it’s absolutely a labor of love, I spend far too long agonizing over word choice and editing and reediting and researching and panicking as soon as the chapters go up (and panicking before that. And after it). As of right now I’m currently at 70k+ and in the home stretch, probably about 65-75% finished. - and I’m so excited to tackle the last quarter! Things are about to spiral out of control and then eventually I get to give the power back to Skye and things are gonna come full circle and the payoffs are coming and I just- ahhhHHH 

Oh oh oh and then I get to write little mini oneshots of just Skye and the team. while I get things sorted for season 2 - this was a terrible question to ask me oh my gosh I’m so sorry 😅

16) Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

I’ve been writing for a couple different fandoms (nothing’s posted yet!) and trying a couple new tropes/aus. For fandoms, I’ve been writing some stuff for the MCU, Euphoria, and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. 

A lot of my wips are character studies/introspection (which is very much comfort writing for me, I love exploring the deepest darkest depths of what makes a character who they are - and pushing angst as far as it can go, and personifying it and using imagery and sensory writing to make it so real and- that’s not the question uhh-) I have been doing other stuff though - some of the AoS fics I’ve been working on include a (not-angst) coffeeshop au (Skimmons), a (normal - for me - amount of angst) soulmate au (...also Skimmons), and I've been working out the details for my Academy fic with Hope, Alya, and Robin and my pirate!Philinda that I’ve recently become obsessed with.

21) What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

This is a super cool question woah!  Hmmm... I think Control in particular could be a pretty cool film. I picture everything as movie scenes in my head when I write (is that something everyone does? I always thought it was but someone told me it wasn’t).

Writer ask! :)

#writer ask #tag game #rhea-imagined #control fic

[shaekingshitup]

unintended

A/N: Okay. So, this was supposed to be a completely different story with more thot antics than romance. But then this idea came and I decided to choose this one instead. I’m still just practicing over here. So, any feedback is appreciated. 😊 This is my first and most likely last fic that will be with a real celeb. So, I hope y’all dig it. It will be a series. So, expect more! I'm just not certain how I feel about writing for real humans that exist. AS ALWAYS, shout out to @glittermakesmesmile​​ for always reading first and making things make sense. She’s wonderful. Be on the look out y’all. 👀 

Pairing: Trevor Jackson x Black OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2265

“I WANNA FEEL THE HEAT WITH SOMEBODY! YEAAHHHH I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY. WITH SOMEBODY WHO-” Jayden stopped belting out the Whitney lyrics as her music paused and her Trey Kennedy ringtone filtered through her car’s speakers. 

RING RING RIIIIIIING. RING RING RING RIIIIING RING!

She looked at her screen and the unsaved number which was staring back at her. 

“Hello?” she asked trying not to let the aggression creep into her voice towards whomever had ruined her jam sesh as she weaved through the madness that was LA Traffic. 

“Hey girl, how you doing?” greeted her with a sweet Southern twang

“Oh shit! It’s Terrell” Jayden thought automatically as she began gushing. All aggression was temporarily forgotten. 

“Hey boo! I’m just circling the block trying to find a spot. I’m makin’ a pit stop at Blue Bottle. What’s up? Can I grab a coffee for you?”

“..bring me their Single Origin?” Jayden heard coming through in the background.

“Nigga” Terrell chuckled in an incredulous tone without losing his good humor. 

“Who’s that? Is that Matt?” she asked trying to piece together what was going on. She was supposed to be meeting Terrell in 45 minutes. She was barely 3 miles away from his place. She’d planned  the day out perfectly so that she would be on time, for once in her life.  You only win the Shits & Giggles Song Association once. I mean, how could she be late for THAT?! 

It sounded like there was some sort of disagreement happening on the other end as Terrell’s voice came in high pitched and strained  “No. That’s not Matt, it’s-,”

“Wait, it’s my fault. Let me tell her” said the mystery person on the line. Jayden was confused as she put her car in park and grabbed her headphones so that she could continue to have this conversation while she stood in line at Blue Bottle. 

“Ugh. Okay,” Terrell relented.

“Hey Jayden. It’s Jayden, right?” spoke an unfamiliar male voice on the other line.

“Yes.. and this is?” Jayden questioned as she opened the door and was blindly greeted by a barista.

“Well hopefully,  the one you grab a Cold Brew for.” chuckled out of the other end of her phone. 

“NIG-GUH. Where is my henny? Cuz I can’t wit yo ass,” Terrell hollered in the background and Jayden heard some generous pouring being done.

“Okay. Can someone please explain to me what’s going on? I’m fourth in line so if you want anything I need some answers first. Who is this?”

“Damn. Straight to it. She’s kind of feisty. She gotta be a fire sign.” Jayden heard this come in muffled as if the person was trying to communicate out of her earshot. She sighed outwardly. Typically, she had more patience than this. However, LA traffic really brought out the worst in her. 

“Third in line.” she said, “and about 10 seconds away from using some choice words with you myself.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me explain. My name is Trevor. Trevor Jackson” he paused. Jayden waited for some further explanation. This name wasn’t ringing a whole lot of bells for her and she didn’t see the point in him being on her line. She was still confused; although, having a name did cause her to simmer down a little. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket while he spoke and was getting ready to Google “Trevor Jackson” but she was bombarded by all of the texts she hadn’t received while her phone was in drive mode. 

“Okayy, Trevor who wants me to bring him coffee. What’s going on?” she asked in a genuinely curious tone and without her previous bite. She made her way through the barrage of “Congrats”, “Good luck” & “Don’t Fuck Up!” texts her family and friends had showered her in. 

Trevor took his time providing her with an explanation. He was measuring out his words and how he would respond “Look, I know that you’re scheduled to shoot your Song Association episode with Terrell soon and that’s great! Congratulations on the win, uh, by the way! But, I had a mix up on my end. I thought that I was supposed to meet him today at 2 pm. Instead of next Saturday at 2 and I’m actually going to be unavailable at that time. So, I was thinkin maybe I could go first since I’m already here. Then, Terrell can just shoot yours afterwards? Plus, my mom’s here to watch me do this because she’s a big Terrell fan and it would mean a lot.” 

Well when you play the mom card. Jayden thought 

The boy was lucky there was only one register at this Blue Bottle and that the person ordering right now had a lot of complicated orders or his lengthy answer may have caused him his Cold Brew. 

“Okayy. That makes sense,” Jayden says, “ I blocked off the rest of my day to be here so I can hang around. I get to watch yours right? I mean you’re not gonna just ask me to bring you coffee and then make me leave?” she giggled as a way to relieve the nervousness she felt about the situation and then she waited because she was certain this Trevor guy nor Terrell would ask her to leave. Right?

She was met with silence. Absolute and complete utter silence. There was no sound whatsoever on the other end.

“Hello? Helllo? Did y’all put me on mute?” Three seconds later there was roaring laughter and she stepped forward. She would be next in line real soon.

“Yes! I’m sorry I accidentally put you on mute. But thank you! Thank you! My mother and I truly thank you.”

“It’s okay! Does your mama want anything while I’m here?” Jayden asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Uh please get her the tea. I promise I got you when you get here. 

“It’s fine,” Jayden responded. “Well, I guess I’ll see y'all soon. It’s my turn,”

“Thank you Jayden. I really mean that.”

“Not a problem” she said.

17 minutes later Jayden was sitting in her car in the Guest Parking garage that Terrell had told her to park in when she arrived. 

“Here” she texted. 

“Meet me at the elevator” was her reply. 

Jayden grabbed the drink carrier and her mini black backpack and headed for the elevator. By the time she made it to the door, Roxy was there to let her in. 

“Hi Jayden” she said.

“Oh my goodness, hiii” Jayden said as she gave Roxy a hug with her free hand. It was just sinking in that this was real. She was really about to be on Song Association. She loved watching the series & was ready to come for Miss Amber P Riley’s perfect score. She definitely didn’t have the perfect vocals to match. However, her competitive nature was not going to let her miss out on this opportunity to fuck this game up.  

“Hey girl, thanks for being so cool about today,” Roxy said as they stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the fourth floor. “We’re going to be doing lots of filming today so we can get this content out on schedule.”

‘Yeah, it’s no problem,” Jayden responded, “ Like I said,I already set aside the rest of my day for this. So, it’s really not a problem. Plus, this way I get to say I saw this Trevor guy on Terrell first!” she laughed.

“You’ve really never heard of him before?” Roxy inquired.

“Mm-mm” she shook her head in the negative.

“Wellll, you are definitely in for a treat,” Roxy smirked. The elevator dinged to let them know that they had made it to the fourth floor.

She took a right out of the elevator and led the way down the hallway until they made it to unit 414. Roxy opened the door and Jayden was immediately met with fresh air. After the heat of the LA sun, the cold air was refreshing.

“Miss JAY-den!” Terrell called out to her once he heard his front door shut. He set his glass down on the table. She couldn’t help it. She broke out into a full faced grin. She couldn’t even see anything but his hallway and all of her teeth were already on full display. She followed Roxy deeper into the apartment and when she saw him she was so overwhelmed that she wasn’t sure what to do. Terrell hopped off of his stool, removed the drink carrier from her hands by placing it on a nearby table and greeted her with open arms. In that singular moment, Jayden felt welcomed and as if she was the most valued individual in that room. So, of course it was at that time that she made the fated mistake of looking over Terrell’s shoulder and got a real  good look at a well-groomed and delicious piece of chocolate. Trevor gave a slight wave which she returned with a smile. 

“MM. I am so glad that you’re here.” Terrell said as he rubbed circles in her back and gave her all of the reassurance she needed to be there. She was still nervous. But she was starting to think that this was all planned and for a purpose.

“I’m so glad to be here!” she replied as he released her from their embrace. 

“And BIIIIIIIIIITCH. This is a WHOLLEEE ASS LOOK! We gone talk about this later boo. But can I get a twirl?” Jayden did one better. She retreated back towards the hallway and came back in full runway flair. She strutted into the room, twirled and looked over her shoulder as she headed back towards the entrance. Finally, she strutted back one last time and gave Terrell a smirk. His energy was contagious. She had nearly forgotten that there were other individuals in the room.

“Oh yeah. Definitely a fire sign,” Trevor commented as he reached for whatever concoction Terrell had prepared for him prior to her arrival. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” She reached for her drink tray and provided him with his Cold Brew, “Trevor, I presume?” she asked as she stretched the drink out to him.  He responded with a smile of his own. 

“That’s me.” Trevor verified nodding his head. He took the drink with his left and shook her hand with his right. “Thank you Jayden. I really do appreciate everything. What do I owe ya?”

“Oh no, that’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” 

“Nah, I got you. What’s your venmo? Cashapp? Zelle? I got you.” Jayden ignored his queries and responded with his own. 

“Where’s your mama?” Just then, an older Black woman with tight skin, a tight body to match and some of the kindest eyes Jayden had ever seen came from around the corner. She was really out here showing that Black don’t crack and she wasn’t even on camera!

“Hi Mrs. Jackson, my name is Jayden.” she smiled and handed the older woman her tea, “here’s your drink ma’am. I got some sugar too just in case you’re like me and like it sweet.” 

“Thank you so much sweetheart. I love sugar. I need just enough to keep the diabetes at bay” Mrs. Jackson responded as she too embraced Jayden in a hug. “Your timing is perfect actually. I was just heading out.” she said. 

“Oh no, is everything okay?” Jayden asked hoping she wasn’t being too nosey in her first impression. 

“Oh yes darling. Trevor’s brother Ian has an event today too and I told him I would be there. But, I refused to miss the opportunity to meet this young man and see my baby boy get a few songs in on this game.” Mrs. Jackson clarified. “Thank you so much for this tea. Trevor, did you pay this young woman for this?” she asked sharply. Jayden could tell two things about Mrs. Jackson off the bat: 1) she was kind 2) she was no nonsense . The look she gave her son spoke volumes. It said “I know I raised you to be polite. I don’t care who you singin for but you better be respectful and don’t expect nothin from no one. Not even a damn coffee. 

Damn. Jayden thought. 

“I’m working on it ma.” Trevor told her. “Okayy baby” Mrs. Jackson said while continuing to stare at her son. The lecture left her eyes and was replaced with a knowing look while she smiled at her son.

Well Miss Jayden, I mean it.  I do appreciate it, and good luck to you on your game too. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful,” she said as she hugged the young woman one final time.  Mrs. Jackson continued around the room saying goodbye and hugging everyone. “Terrell, make sure you don’t go easy on my baby boy. He got this. We been practicin’, ya know.” .  

Jayden watched the woman, enamored by the similarities between Mrs. Jackson and her favorite aunt.  Jayden was so caught up in her thoughts, she initially missed Mrs. Jackson’s final goodbye to her, catching only enough to ask the woman to repeat herself.  

“I’m sorry Mrs. Jackson, what did you say? Jayden stammered out flustered as she had gotten so in her own head. 

Mrs. Jackson paused before scurrying out the door to support her first born “ I said I’ll see you soon baby”, giving the young woman a wink and mischievous smirk before disappearing out the door. 

Jayden stared at the door, mouth opening trying to figure out what the woman had meant. 

………………………………

TAG LIST: @twistedcharismaaa​ @mygirlrenee​ @glittermakesmesmile​ @sarcastic-sunshines​ @chaneajoyyy​ @shewrites02​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @raysunshine78​ @shewritestheblues​ @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​  @fd-writes​ @eyeknowmywrites​​ @thadelightfulone​​

#shaekingspeaks #black oc #trevor jackson #trevor jackson x oc #fics n shit

[mirkwoodshewolf]

My Hallowqueen circus mini-series

Hello all since some queen blogs are doing a special HallowQueen special I thought I might get in on all the fun. However, my stories are gonna be DARK THEMED (which is sorta knew territory to me. I kinda touched on some dark things in my personal writings outside fanfics) so if dark themes aren’t your cup of tea, you don’t have to be a part of it.

So as said as EACH of these fics are dark, there is NO FLUFF or whatsoever so expect things like death, seduction, and dark arts to be written in these fics. Plus I want you all to think of this as a PICK YOUR FATE fic which is new for me. 

So I hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember......

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@mexifangorl

_________________________________________________________

Welcome my darlings; tonight is the one and only lifetime opportunity to see the spectacle that lies before you.  But be warned, this show is not for the faintest of hearts, nor the squeamish, nor the easily frightened.  For as you walk through an abandoned forest path, you see the large tent fully displayed.

For weeks you had seen advertisements for this upcoming circus that would come around Halloween.  Figuring it wouldn’t be harmful to check it out, you bravely walk to the location where they said the circus would be at.

The full moon was up, the cold October night breeze blowing across your skin making you shiver as you join a crowd of people entering the tent.  You take your seat along the stadium and soon the stadium goes pitch black.  Everyone around you is startled at the sudden black out, some even scream.

But then suddenly the ring at the center became a ring of fire and suddenly man-like creatures came running down the stairs of the stadium.  Whether they were in costumes or the real thing, it was hard to say.

Bat creatures, cat creatures, skeletons, demons and witches all came around scaring people before going down to the ring and began dancing around it chanting out a foreign haunting chant.  Their arms waving in the air before they stood with their backs towards the audience and their wrists crossed over each other.

As fire blew out from the ground once more time, a man in a ringleader attire now stood on top of a platform and he proclaimed for all to hear.

“Freaks and ghouls. You have freely given yourself to Satin, abandon all hope of escaping for now you are prey to the shows that are to come. For this is unlike any circus you’re used to. I now present to you; the Underworld Circus!” Everyone cheers including you and soon all the potential acts start coming out.

There were more darker themes when it came to the acts; for example the trapeze act, instead of a net, there was a potential danger of falling on a bed of spikes.  Everyone was on edge, even when you thought there would be a slip up, there wasn’t.  Thank god.

More acts followed but then there were four specific acts that just somehow grabbed your attention.  There was a wild cat tamer who could not only seem to control the cats, but there was also points in the show where he and a lion, tiger or puma would wrestle with each other.

Another act was an underwater act, but something about this man was almost hypnotic about him.  He was beyond handsome, far handsomer than any man should be.

There was a music act. But instead of using bells, he used some sort of pipe and there was some sort of magical spell that came with it because you begin to notice that some of the kids that probably came with their parents or older siblings, couldn’t help but race down the stage and go around and dance along with the man.

And the last act was a magician who filled the entire stadium with stars from the cosmos.  It was beautiful yet dangerous because he could some of the constellations like Orion the hunter fire his arrow to the crowd, or have Leo come around and try to attack someone before fading into dust.

You won’t deny that together all four of the circus performers that performed throughout the night were incredibly handsome. You kinda hoped that after the show, maybe just maybe you could get a one on one with the performers.

By the end of the show, all the acts came out in a combined performance.  Magic, music, big cats leaping through rings of stars, trapeze artists flying through the air, and underwater magic happening.  At the end, everyone was on their feet applauding as loud as they could.

As people began to pile out talking about the show, you stayed behind hoping at a chance to meet the act you favored most throughout the whole show.

So……which one do you choose?

The underwater act

The cat tamer

The magician

The pipe player

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody x reader #queen #halloqueen #hallowqueen 2019 #halloween fic #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #queen imagine #queen imagines #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #brian may #roger taylor x reader #freddie mercury x reader #brian may x reader #john deacon x reader #happy halloqueen #happy hallowqueen #hallow-queen