#it wouldn’t have been the same without them

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks

JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna or Toji

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo

AOT – Eren

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #smut #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #mha smut #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #yandere boyfriend #boyfriend #boyfriend scenarios

[buckysbabygorl]

Say It

Summary: Bucky hates you and the feeling is mutual. It didn’t matter if he was attractive, or heroic, he was a grade A pain in your ass. The petty insults and the constant staring. It unnerved you. But you know how to get under his skin….

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, enemies to lovers, swearing, gun use (no violence), begging, dom/brat dynamics

Sergeant Barnes was nothing more to Y/N than a nuisance.

He was always giving Y/N shit. At the compound, on the streets, during missions. He just never let up.

She did her best to avoid him, as being in the same room as him always brought out her worst.

He made her feel snippy and childish, resorting to constant defenses and quick retorts that left her with her head spinning afterwards.

It always felt like he got the final word, the last laugh, and it drove her crazy.

But with all his insults he dealt out, she had one solid retort. The one thing that could get under his skin… his army title.

Sergeant.

She wasn’t sure why, but nothing else phased him.

For him, it was the way she phrased it. Laced with disdain and contempt, throwing his authority back in his face.

His title be damned, she didn’t care. He may have been an authority figure in the army but he was by no means her superior. They were equals on the field and she made sure to remind him of that every chance he got.

She never called him by anything else, other than a few nicknames like asshole, dick, etc.

Never Barnes, never Bucky, never James.

Just sergeant.

And today was no exception.

Barnes and Y/N had both failed their firearms tests, or rather, neither had shown for their scheduled tests due to an emergency mission. Both were extremely skilled in their previous tests, but without passing the second time, neither of them would be reinstated as agents.

Not wanting to take any chances, Fury mandated bi-weekly training for the two. Why they had to train at the range at the same time, was beyond them.

“Your stance is off.”

Y/N huffed, glancing at Barnes out of the corner of her eye.

He stood to the side, arms crossed over his vest, gaze piercing under neath his protective glasses.

“Noted,” she chided, “Though your input wasn’t asked for, it’s noted.”

He chuckled, “Just trying to help. Wouldn’t want to fail your second time, would you?”

She reminded herself to unclench her jaw, nearly shattering her teeth in annoyance.

“I didn’t fail. I missed it. Same as you did.”

She sturdied herself, aiming for her target at the far end of the range.

She calmed herself, breathing in and out. In… and out… in—

“You’re gonna miss if you keep that stance.”

She growled, “Will you shut up and just let me shoot?”

“You need all the tips you can get, kid. No need to get hostile.”

A nickname she loathed, kid. He was always throwing it up in conversation, even when addressing her to other people. His constant reminder of how “young and inexperienced” she was.

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll show you hostile.”

He stalked closer, leaning against the firing stall wall.

“Considering that you’re so inexperienced with a weapon, I don’t feel all that threatened.”

She disarmed her rifle and rested it, turning to face him.

“Right, right.” She said, “I have no experience with weapons. If only I had as much experience as you, tell me another fucking war story while you’re at it Sergeant.”

His face lost its smirk, dark blue eyes now glaring at her.

“You should show me some respect.”

She laughed, turning away from him.

“I should show you nothing, I don’t owe you anything.”

She picked up her rifle again, rearming it and getting set to shoot. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head. Her face grew hot, a trickle of sweat slipped down her temple.

Just breathe. Be steady, be certain. Fingers on the trigger, get ready…

“You gonna wait all day?”

That was it.

7 shots fired from the barrel, fast and paced with perfect precision.

7 holes left in the target’s chest, all she needed to pass.

She would be ready for upcoming test.

She disarmed her rifle once more, removing her tactical gloves and tossing them to the table.

“Anything else you care to say?” She asked.

His eyes had never left her form, and he smiled.

“Lucky shots.” He replied, “Hopefully they don’t clock your form on Friday.”

“Fuck you.”

She moved to walk passed him, her arm colliding with his shoulder.

He grabbed her wrist and whipped her back to the stall.

“Don’t talk to me like that. Be quiet and stand here.”

His hands gripped her hips hard, and he spread apart her legs with his. His stubble scraped her cheek, his breath hot on her ear.

He moved her as he spoke, his hands harsh and controlling. “Face the target squarely, feet shoulder width apart. Toes should face the fucking target flex your knees—”

His hips bucked against hers, “Lean forward towards the target. That’s how you take a fucking shot.”

He was breathing hard against her neck, his heart ramming against his chest. She hoped he couldn’t hear hers ramming too.

“That’s isosceles. I prefer the goddamn weaver stance.”

He didn’t move, and neither did she.

“Yeah?” He uttered, “You do that and you expose an area. Right here—”

His large hand wrapped around her torso, nearly encompassing her side.

“—that’s open from your armor. You get shot there, you die.”

She shoved him off of her, whipping around to face him.

“What difference does it make? They’re both accepted stances by the government’s protocol.”

“If you don’t give a fuck about your survival chances then why give a fuck about your test at all? Your stance matters.”

She stepped to him, her face inches from his.

“I give a fuck about my survival chances. Just because I don’t like your old school, traditional bullshit stance, doesn’t mean I don’t give a fuck about my test.”

“You refuse to take any criticism about your skills, it’s gonna get you killed.”

“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Their chests heaved in unison, their eyes wild as they dared to look at one another.

“Then you wouldn’t have to deal with the hot-shot rookie that knows more than you, that could replace you in a heart beat.”

Discarding his eyewear, he scoffed in her face. As he stalked forward, her back inched towards the opposite stall wall.

“You think you’re so much better than me, than everybody on this team. You couldn’t replace me, I’m one of the strongest and most experienced members on this team. You’re nothing but an entitled brat with your head in your ass. I can do more than you could possibly imagine.”

Things were turning dangerous. She hated that he insulted her age, she hated that he called her inexperienced, she hated that he was constantly fucking with her head. She hated that he looked so fucking hot when he was this angry, standing right in front of her.

“Oh yeah?”

She grabbed the tactical gloves and shoved them into his chest.

“Then why don’t you show me how it’s done—”

He watched as her lips snarled, hand pressed against his chest.

Don’t say it. Don’t you fucking say it.

She smirked.

“Sergeant.”

His hands flew up so fast.

Gloves fallen to the floor, her hands were pinned to the wall.

He pushed her up with his hips, body taut against her.

Her eyes were blown wide, lip dropping in awe.

“Say it again. I dare you.” He growled through gritted teeth, noses touching.

She urged her body not to tremble at his grasp, heat pooling in her abdomen.

He was testing her. Playing some twisted mind game. He wouldn’t hurt her, he wanted to see if she backed down. She wouldn’t.

“Sergeant.”

Blue eyes turned black.

His mouth was hard on hers, fingers digging desperately in her wrists. He pressed his hips forward, pushing his hardness into her clothed core.

She gasped into his lips and he took the chance to battle with her tongue. He ground himself against her again.

He pulled away, taking in her shocked gaze.

“You wanna mouth off to me? Give me attitude?”

He ducked his head into her neck and she shuttered. His hips continued their bucking.

“No respect… I’ll teach you how to behave.”

Her head was spinning, thoughts running wild from the man in front of her. All this hatred, all this fighting, now his hands were releasing hers and stripping off her vest.

Her hands were free now, why wasn’t she pushing him away?

She grabbed his shoulders to stable herself, watching as his hand dipped into her waistband. The other gripped the underside of her ass, keeping her clothed pussy right against his hardening cock.

He laughed to himself, “Is this you showing me hostile? Look at you now, nothing to say.”

She stifled a moan as his fingers drifted across her panties.

“Barnes, I—”

He awed, “There it is. No ‘sergeant’ this time, huh kid?”

He rubbed at her clit through the fabric, watching as she struggled to keep her composure.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he hissed.

“Don’t call me that.”

He leaned in to her neck, fingers shifting her panties to the side.

His voice vibrated against her throat.

“You don’t like it? Be good and I’ll call you something else.”

She gasped as his fingers entered her, strong and purposeful.

He groaned at her wetness, licking the skin at the base of her neck.

Her legs clenched around his waist, he rewarded her with another finger.

“If I’d known fucking you would have shut you up, I would’ve done it sooner.”

She swallowed a sigh as his fingers pressed against that perfect spot.

“You aren’t fucking me. You’re teasing me.”

He bit her neck and she gasped again.

“Be patient sweetheart, I’ll fuck you soon enough.”

As his thumb circled her clit while his fingers pumped into her, her eyes rolled back. Head drawn back, she couldn’t help but moan.

Bucky hummed as he fucked her with his fingers, “You like that?”

She bit her lip as he continued his teasing, his face moving away from her neck.

He leaned back and grinned, “Is that what you want? Me calling you sweetheart while I fuck you?”

“I—”

Her moan interrupted her as he picked up his pace.

He tsked as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Use your words. You wanted to before.”

She whimpered as he withdrew from her, angry with herself for giving into him as much as she had. She couldn’t let him win like this, she had to bite back a little.

“No,” she huffed, “Try something else to turn me on.”

He smirked at the challenge, and his hands dipped back into her waistband.

She wasn’t prepared for him sliding her pants to the floor, hiking her up further onto the wall.

“Fine,” he said, “but you’ll have to ask nicely.”

He was as soft as before, his fingers moving at a harsher pace. The newfound angle left her crying out, desperately clawing at his arms in pleasure.

“What do you think, huh? Maybe baby?”

He dipped his head to her chest, sucking at the delicate skin.

He didn’t need to watch her to know what she liked, he could feel it in her body. The beating of her heart and the rapid breaths she gave as he pulled her closer and closer to her peak.

“Princess?” He drawled, “No, no…”

He curled his fingers, pulling another whimper.

“How about Angel?”

She clenched around his fingers and gasped as he bit into her breast.

“Oh god—.”

“Ask me nicely, Y/N.”

Her back arched against the stall, eyes closed as he edged her.

“Fuck, yes. Yes Barnes, yes.”

She cried out as he drew her orgasm from her, hips rutting into his hand.

He groaned as she coated him with her wetness, the mewing mess he had made of her.

This was so much better than training.

“I knew I’d get you begging. I fucking knew you’d be good for me.”

He pulled her away from the wall, and she stumbled into his arms. Her eyes were glossy, hair tussled and lips swollen. All from him, all his doing. Pride welled in his chest, but he wasn’t done yet.

He spun her around, leaning her against the table that faced the targets.

“Remember what I told you Angel. Feet apart, bend forward.”

He pushed her chest down to the table, hands raking over her backside.

She growled, “I don’t need another damn shooting lesson.”

Her ass stung as his hand spanked her.

“What happened to being good, kid?”

She propped herself up on her elbows, “I said, don’t call me that—ah!”

He smacked her ass again, “That fucking mouth again. Why don’t you put it to good use?”

She sighed as he pushed her down to the table again, “What? You want me to suck you off, that it?”

He chuckled, “No Angel, I’ve got something else in mind.”

His hands swiftly removed his belt, slipping down his pants and boxers to leave him in nothing but his vest and t-shirt.

Pulling out his cock, he teased her entrance. Slowly sliding his head along her glistening folds, listening as she moaned in anticipation.

“You’re gonna say my name.”

He dipped his throbbing head in, feeling her legs tense… her pussy clench around nothing.

He pulled back and she exhaled.

“You’re gonna beg me, and you’re gonna say my name.”

She attempted to rut back against him, desperately hoping she’d take him in.

She couldn’t say his name, she couldn’t beg. She’d never live that down.

His metal hand held her in place, not letting up.

“Say it Angel,” he demanded, “Beg me to fuck you.”

“Screw you Barnes—”

His thumb was harsh on her clit, and she yelped at the rough circles he drew into her.

“I’ll leave you here, a wet fucking mess. Don’t test me, Y/N. Say it.”

“Fuck,” she cried out as he teased her with his fingers. “Fine I—”

He put the head of his cock in again, stretching her entrance.

“Bucky, please.”

He hummed, “Better. But not what I want.”

She felt herself grow cold in her exposure, Bucky pulling away and hand leaving her side.

She whipped around, “What? I said it!”

He smirked at her, shaking his head.

“First name, Angel. And beg.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

He could see it in her eyes, how desperate she was. Yearning for more, but so damn proud.

“Just say it, Angel. All you have to do.”

She hissed through her teeth, so touch starved she could cry. This would be the death of her, her legs shaking and wetness pooling at her thighs. Fuck, she had to.

“For god’s sake James, please just fuck me.”

He strode forward with ease, pushing her back onto the table.

He knew she’d give.

“That’s my girl.”

Her hips were around his waist in a second, hands in her hair and kissing her roughly as she moaned beneath him.

He bucked his hips against hers, sliding his cock along her dripping entrance.

He lined himself up and thrust into her, her head rolling back in a loud cry.

He groaned as he filled her up, her pussy tight around him.

“Fuck, you feel perfect.”

He rutted into her at a relentless pace, unforgiving as his hands gripped her waist.

“So good, Angel. Could fuck you forever with a pussy like this.”

Her fingers curled into his hair, gripping tightly as he pounded her harder against the table.

“You want that? You want me to fuck you over and over? ‘Til you can’t say nothing but my name?”

She exhaled a yes, mind too clouded from pleasure to stop herself. She was melting in his hands now, completely at his whim.

“Say it Angel, say my name.”

She was going to cum again, her vision growing blurry as it pooled in her stomach.

“James, oh god, James!”

She came hard, the lights blinding her as her orgasm took over her body.

His thrusts grew harder, determined to keep her cumming until he finished.

“That’s it Angel, cum for me. So fucking pretty when you cum.”

His hips stuttered as she looked at him, a moaning mess with her pleading eyes.

“Cum inside me James, please.”

He was done for.

He finished with a groan, body falling limp against her. Their chests rose and fell in unison, their breaths filling the quiet room.

It was dawning on them now, the wild scenario that had played itself out.

How did they get here?

Too tired to question it, Bucky lifted himself off of her.

He gently wrapped his hands around her waist, guiding her to sit up.

Silent, they look at each other.

Their faces were unreadable, dripping with sweat and cheeks swelled with red.

She tried to discern that look in his eyes, she never knew what he was thinking.

Unless he was right in her face, snarling at her, then she knew what he felt.

Anger, frustration, hatred.

This look… now that was something new.

He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay…” he started, “no more ‘kid’ and no more ‘sergeant’.”

She swallowed, not trusting her voice she responded with a nod.

He nodded back. “No more fighting. It’s exhausting.”

She was taken aback that, and he laughed at the look of shock on her face.

“C’mon. It is.” He pointed between them, “Our energy is much better spent on this.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Wow, just like that?”

He nodded. “Mhm, just like that. You drive me crazy but, I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about this since the day we met.”

Speechless again, she stared at him as he continued.

“You’re frustrating, you make me worried, you—hell you’re reckless and it scares me. Feels like I have to keep an eye on you all the time.”

“You are frustrating. You don’t trust me to take care of myself or the team.” She said

He shook his head, “Not true. You’re a great agent, but I meant what I said. You don’t take criticism.”

She scoffed, “And you criticize too much.”

Still shocked at the events prior, she didn’t shove him away as he moved to hold her.

She shocked herself further by wrapping her arms lazily around him.

“Well,” he said, kissing the top of her head, “we’ll work on that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sloppily written but hey, we get what we get and don’t get upset.

Taglist:

@pigeonmama

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes

Bucky tag list:

@emmabarnes

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #Bucky Barnes enemies to lovers

[saintobio]

blank canvas: the epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

TWO YEARS LATER

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent. 

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course. 

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late. 

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.

#sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst

[weirdmageddon]

the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

#homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck fandom #mine

[lesbojournals]

Hi Liz! I’ve just read your poly!marauders pregnancy fic and I love it! Your reading is stunning!

I’m here with a special request… I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x fem!reader where reader is acting weird and distant and the boys are worried and at the end she was hiding a huge secret, a pregnancy. She was scared they wouldn’t want a baby but they all ended up really happy about it? Just some slight angst with happy ending. ❤️

a/n: hi anon! i did put a little bit of my own twist to this, hope that's okay!

Poly!Marauders x Pregnant!Reader

It had only been two days. In fact, it was only the beginning of the second day. 

One full day and some hours since you found out you were pregnant.

One full day and some hours since you started ignoring your boys.

What else were you to do? It was a complete surprise. You'd never even discussed having a baby together, let alone if they even want children.

After taking your pregnancy test, you bolted out of your shared flat with no explanation, driving yourself to the beach so you could have a long cry.

Each boy texted you separately and called you separately, various times. You ignored every call.

I'll be home soon. Staying at my parents for the night. is what you texted in your shared chat. 

You weren't lying…yet. Just withholding information.

As you had driven up to your parents house you felt the tears all ready to burst. The shocked look on your mom’s face when you were at the door was enough for her to bring you in and comfort whatever you were going through. You had told her your secret, and she admitted the boys reached out to her in concern. You fell asleep on your parents’ couch in distress.

One day and a few hours is when you woke up. You scrolled through your phone. Missed texts from Remus, missed calls from Sirius, voicemails from James. 

“You're going to have to tell them, you know.” Your mom entered the living room with a cup of tea for you. 

You gratefully took it and sat up, shaking your head. Your hand went to your stomach without thinking. 

“I know,” You said, starting to feel worked up again. “I know.”

It was an hour or so later of your mom giving you the confidence to tell your boyfriends that led you to dial Remus’ number. 

“Honey?! Oh, my love, are you okay?!”

“Is that her??”

“Give me the phone!!”

The voices of your boyfriends rang through the speaker, and you sighed with a shaky voice. 

“Can you guys meet me at the beach? We need to talk.”

It was James that broke the silence that took place after you spoke. 

“Yea, of course darling. Be there in 10?”

You felt tears dripping down your face. “Mm-hm. Love you. Bye.”

Three “Love you”s chorused through the phone. You hung up quickly and held your face in your hands as you cried. Your mom rubbed your back encouragingly.

“Love, it'll go okay. And if it doesn't I'll be right here for you.”

That brought you to arriving at the beach. Your mom drove you because of how emotionally distressed you were, not being able to control your tears. 

You saw James’ car in the lot and took a deep breath as you rubbed your eyes. 

“You got this sweet pea.” Your mom gave you a shoulder squeeze.

You hesitantly exited the car and watched as the boys did the same. 

They looked broken. Remus was unusually dressed in sweats and one of Sirius’ shirts and looked like he hadn't slept. James eyes were bloodshot and cheeks pink. Sirius, on the other hand, had a dangerous look on his face, borderline between looking like he'd scream or cry.

“Where have you been?!” He came off intimidating, eyes glossy. You flinched at his tone, leading Remus to step in front of him.

He grabbed your hands. “Dovey, why did you leave?”

You looked up at his hazel eyes, noticing James holding Sirius in a side hug behind Remus. 

“I…I…” Your voice cracked and you felt hot tears slide down your cheeks. 

Remus rubbed your hands gently with his thumbs. 

You let out a desperate cry and looked down at the ground. “I'm pregnant. I’m keeping it.”

With that Remus let go of your hands, and you felt your world collapse. You started to cry harder, about to bring your arms around your body to hug yourself before a body slammed into yours, grasping you tightly.

“Oh, love…” Sirius spoke into your neck. 

You looked up in shock at James and Remus, both looking utterly surprised. 

James stuttered as he spoke. “I, you, we are going to have a baby?”

“You guys are staying with me?” You asked, uncertain.

Sirius whipped from the crook of your neck to grab your face with both of his hands. 

“Is that what you thought dolly? That we wouldn't stay with you!!” He almost seemed hysteric at the thought.

You shrugged. 

“Oh sweetheart…” Remus spoke quiet. 

Before you knew it Remus and James both joined you in your hug, holding onto you tightly.

James was the one who broke it apart. “I just, I can't believe it.”

He grabbed your shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “We’re going to be parents!!”

You blinked and James had you up in the air, swinging you around in a circle as Remus fretted and Sirius laughed. “We’re gonna be parents!!!”

#poly!marauders x pregnant!reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x you #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 9

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, praise.

Part 9

"What did I miss?" Liana asked as she sat down, seeing the boys exchange looks. Sometimes they spoke without words. She always envied that connection. She didn’t have anyone who could understand her with just a nod or a blink or, in this case, a stare.

"Hello, Earth to Art and Patrick?" she tried to join in, but something about the current situation didn’t feel right. "It's my turn to go inside. I need to drink some water. You two catch up, it's been a while since you’ve seen each other," Art said without looking at her, causing Liana to frown as he walked away. "That was weird, right?" she asked Patrick, who responded with a half-smile. "When is Art not weird?" he said. "How are you?" he asked, turning his gaze back to her and seeing her give the widest smile she could offer anyone. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, moving to sit next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "What do I have to forgive you for, Amanda?" he chuckled, tracing shapes on her shoulder while taking another sip of champagne. "I was terrible. The exams made me crazy," she tried to justify her behavior over the past month. "Do you know if you're leaving yet?" he asked. "I’ll know when we get back from vacation. I’m terrified," she murmured. On one hand, Liana desperately wanted that year in Oxford. She wanted to see Europe. The architecture. The atmosphere. The culture. She wanted to see something other than the American suburb she had lived in her whole life, with the same people and the same opinions and the same tennis. On the other hand, she didn’t want to break her parents’ hearts. Her parents who had always talked about Stanford and how she’d join the family business after she finished school, and her parents who were the best people she knew but whose dreams for her flew past them as if they were never there. And now there was Art too. Art, who in the past two days had made her feel things she had never felt before. Art, who in the months at Stanford had become an inseparable part of her life. Art, who made her stomach ache at the thought of not seeing him for a year. Art, who still didn’t know she was considering leaving. "You’ll pass that test, we both know you will," Patrick said calmly. "And then you'll conquer Europe, building by building." He chuckled, but his voice faded with each word. "And we'll stay here, missing you," he said, and she straightened up, looking at him. "I’m not going to die, you know," Liana rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the conversation. "No, you're just going to meet people much better than us, and I'm enough of a bastard to be worried about that," he said honestly. "I don’t think there are many people in the world better than you, Patrick," she concluded. The next day Art left. He texted her that a spot opened up in some tennis group he could join, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity. That he’d see her at Stanford. When Liana tried to call, he didn’t answer. So they kept missing each other throughout the vacation, she trying to call just as he was going into practice or the shower or falling asleep, and him sending messages that he was okay, just busy. On the last day of the vacation, she received a message that her exam results had come in. She had been accepted. Liana cried. Which wasn’t anything special because objectively Liana cried a lot, but this time she cried out of excitement. All the effort she put in had paid off, and now she could prepare for the student exchange. She could make her dream come true, start being a real person in the world. The conversation with her parents was horrible. There were shouts and accusations, and her mother said they wouldn’t pay for this, which Liana had suspected might happen. Her father seemed more conciliatory but didn’t say much. "Do you think Mom will be mad at me for long?" she asked him on the way to the airport. If there was one thing Liana hated, it was that it was always obvious she had been crying. Her pale face would turn red, and her eyes would swell, sometimes for days. This was one of those cases. It could be said with confidence that Liana looked like she had been run over by a bus yesterday.

"I know it doesn’t look like it, but we’re proud of you. Mom will come around, don’t worry," her father hugged her as they got out of the car. "I want this so much, Dad," she sighed.

"I know, honey," he said, kissing the top of her head. He hated seeing the emotional turmoil his daughter was in. His daughter, who above all feared disappointing people. "I’ll come back to Stanford after that," she mumbled, feeling the lump in her throat take over again. "I don’t want her to hate me," she looked at him with teary eyes.

"She doesn’t hate you. Li, look at me." Her father tried to wipe her tears. "Your mother is a stubborn woman, and you’ll see that a month after you’re there, she’ll come visit you." He smiled, and she nodded, not sure she believed what he said. "Besides, you have another semester at Stanford. Make the most of it, maybe you’ll love the place as much as we did." He shrugged, seeing her take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I love you, Dad," she hugged him again and started to walk away, hoping everything would calm down and her mother would eventually look at her like she did before she told her she was planning to leave. Art opened the door after five knocks, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Did we have plans?" he asked. "Hey Arthur, I missed you too," she rolled her eyes and gave him a small kiss on the lips, seeing him close his eyes and deepen the kiss within seconds as he closed the door. "Hey," he smiled at her and moved her hair out of her face. "Have you been crying?" he asked after examining her. Art couldn’t stop himself from asking. It was like an instinct; seeing what he could do to make her feel better. But he was so mad at her that he didn’t really want to talk to her or know how she felt right now; after all, she didn’t care how he felt. He did want to fuck her. He wanted to feel like she was his. He was afraid he was a little addicted to the feeling of looking at her and feeling like she was entirely his. He was afraid that if she left, he wouldn’t feel that way again. He was afraid of losing.

"Did you know?" his mother asked on the phone. Her voice worried. "What?" he returned the question, panting after practice. "That Liana is planning to leave for Oxford? Did you know that?" she demanded the truth. And the truth was that he knew she was leaving. But he didn’t know where or when and he didn’t know it was official. His heart pounded faster. "Yes, I knew," he mumbled, not wanting to reveal how far he felt from Liana in reality. Not wanting to reveal how stupid he felt that of all people, Patrick knew before him. "How could you not say anything, Art, she's our Liana. How will she manage in England alone? She barely manages to find her way in the supermarket without getting lost," his mother sighed. And she was right. He knew she was right. And she wasn’t even their Liana; she was his Liana. And she was his Liana for exactly two days. What an idiot he is. "She’s a big girl. She can navigate the supermarket in England without getting lost. I have to go," he mumbled, angry at himself for still feeling the need to protect her. "Just tired from the flight," she smiled at him a tired smile and felt his lips leaving small kisses on her neck, causing her to close her eyes. "Can I help?" his voice was teasing as he took off her shirt without much resistance. Examining her for a second, as if trying to remember how she looked. "You're already helping," she smiled a genuine smile, and his lips were on her again, hungrier than she had felt him so far. "I want you so much, Li," he groaned into her mouth. His tongue intertwining with hers as if he had wandered for years in the desert and she was his source of water. "Do you want this?" he asked, as they moved to his bed and she nodded. In complete haze, at this point, she decided that Art Donaldson could do whatever he wanted with her. And it was a liberating decision. Knowing she was safe in his hands and he decided how good she could feel now. "Words, Liana," he demanded as he started taking off her jeans. She didn’t even notice she was already half-naked in front of him. "You're wearing too many clothes," she mumbled incoherently as his hand brushed over her panties. "You're already wet, Li?" his voice was amused as he took off his shirt. "Already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he whispered in her ear and heard her moan, which caused him to release a groan of his own. "Do you want this?" he asked again. This time his hand applied more pressure over her panties. "Art." Her voice was desperate. "Please," she whispered, and he bit his lip. Stopping himself from all the things he wanted to do with her. "Please, what?" he asked, his mouth close to hers, teasing, barely touching. He kissed her right cheek and then her left

"Touch me. Please," she almost cried out of frustration and desperation, exactly the way he wanted her. His. His again. And he felt desperate too, so her panties came off in a flash and he gave her exactly what she wanted. He heard her moan beneath him as his fingers moved inside her rhythmically. He felt how tight she was. He tried not to imagine his dick inside her, thinking he might not last. She was a virgin. He knew that. She had told him. He was going to be the first inside her. "So good for me, Li," he murmured and smiled, never taking his eyes off her. He didn't think anyone could look better than Liana did now, beneath him, eyes closed, desperate sounds escaping her, moaning his name. He was sure the student in the room next door was jerking off to the sound of her. He was sure no one in the world could resist Liana Levy when she looked like that beneath him. He was no different from anyone else. Almost captivated. Almost helpless. Just wanting to deliver. Just wanting her to always be like that for him. His lips roamed over her body until they reached her clit, while his hand sped up.

"You take me so well, Li," he said as the room filled with the sound of her fluids and moans.

"I'm going to-" she mumbled, her voice breaking, making him look up at her. He had to see her come. He had to remember this moment.

"Come for me, Li, come on. I want to see you," he demanded in the most authoritative voice he could muster, even though he felt himself melting under her influence.

"Art," she moaned again.

And he was right, her face in that moment was truly the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his 20 years of existence. Her half-open mouth, her eyes closed, slightly teary, her hand on her breast. It was a magnificent sight and he knew only he had seen her like this.

Her body shook and he gave one last kiss on her sensitive clit, then stood before her.

"Open your eyes, Li," he said, and she did exactly as he commanded. "Kiss me. Taste yourself." Another half-command with a smile and scheming eyes. Within seconds, her lips were on his, her tongue mingling with his intensely, just wanting more.

"I want to be inside you," he murmured, and she nodded. "Can I?" he asked. He had to ask. He knew she could say no and he would have to accept it, and if he were less greedy, he might even be satisfied with that anyway.

But he was so angry with her. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to know that just as he was hers, she was his. That she couldn't just ignore him like that. Dismiss him as if he didn't matter.

"Yes," she murmured into his mouth, feeling him smile against her.

"Yes, what?" he asked, teasing.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and it came out vulgar and blunt, uncharacteristic of the girl in front of him. She was even surprised by the words that left her mouth, her eyes widening for a moment before remembering it was Art and relaxing. She was safe with Art. He wouldn't use her words against her. It was okay for her to need him.

"I didn't hear you," he murmured, removing the rest of his clothes and moving to his desk to grab a condom. "I'm on this side of the room, Liana. You need to speak louder." He leaned against the wall as he put the condom on, taking a breath. He had to steady his breathing if he wanted to last inside her for more than three seconds.

"Please, Art. I want to feel you inside me," she said louder, more confidently, more desperately. He moved toward her. "Please fuck me," she looked him in the eyes and bit her lip, feeling almost small but also kind of powerful. He looked almost as desperate as she did as his hand traced her face and then her chest, stopping at her sensitive nipple, making her moan.

"That much, huh?" he asked, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance and hearing her sigh in response. "Don't worry, I've got you. Are you going to be good for me, Li?" he asked, watching her nod in response. "Are you going to take me like you were made for me?" he asked again.

"Yes, please. Art." She was almost crying with frustration. Liana didn't know what to do to make him enter her already. To feel him. For him to fill her with himself. For him to be close to her. Part of her. She didn't know when she started feeling all these emotions for Art Donaldson, but now was not the time to figure it out. He began to slide into her.

"Oh, Art," she bit his shoulder, making him groan.

"Fuck, Liana. So tight. Fuck. Hang in there, baby, are you okay?" he asked, studying her.

"More," she mumbled. The pain didn't matter. She just wanted him. She wanted all of him. He did move more. A bit more each time. Another moan and another sigh each time until he was fully inside her. Their lips merged in their most sloppy kiss yet. They were one for a moment.

"You can move," she managed to say after a few seconds.

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeing her nod. "Fuck, Li. I won't last long like this," he murmured, his movements gentle. He was careful with her.

When he felt he was close and knew she wouldn't come from the first time someone inside her, he added a finger to play with her clit.

"Fuck, Art," she moaned his name for the umpteenth time.

"I know. You're doing such a good job, Li, taking care of me so well," he said, feeling her tighten around him, bringing him to the edge almost with her.

After a few seconds, he gently pulled out of her, seeing her panting and feeling just as spent. He took off the condom and walked it to the trash, finding his boxers on the way and putting them on. He saw the girl in front of him, completely naked. Completely his.

"When were you planning to tell me?" he asked, looking at her from a distance.

Liana was still in euphoria, her eyes half-closed, confused by the question. "What are you talking about?" she sounded amused, looking at him with a smile as he put on a shirt. For a moment, she felt fragile, not understanding how she was still completely naked while he was fully dressed in front of her.

"About leaving Stanford. About Oxford? I don't know. Maybe there are more things you'd like to tell me." His gaze was cold, making Liana freeze too. She felt her nakedness now. She understood why he was dressed and she wasn't. She was vulnerable right now.

"How long have you known?" she asked quietly, swallowing and searching for her clothes.

"My mom asked me about it yesterday," he said, never taking his eyes off her. "Do you know how stupid I felt when I lied and told her I knew?" he asked. His voice didn't rise, but the frustration was clear.

"Art, I found out two days ago," her eyes glistened and she breathed quickly, feeling everything slipping away from her. He was slipping away from her.

"You're lying," he stated with an eye roll, sitting down on the bed.

"Art," she knelt in front of him, studying his face. He showed no emotion, only coldness.

"It's okay, Liana. We both know what this is," he said, instinctively moving her hair out of her face.

"What is it?" she swallowed. She knew Art. She knew he was about to say something he'd regret, and yet she still pushed him to say it.

"It's me passing time until Tashi realizes she wants me," he said, seeing her expression change to one he'd never seen on her before. She moved his hand from her face quickly and scooted back on the floor as fast as he didn't know she was capable of, as if afraid of his touch.

"Wow." She swallowed, looking at him, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she tried to salvage the situation, and he chuckled.

"Come on, Liana." He rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, no longer looking at her.

"You just fucked me, Art." She felt sick. It was the first time she had slept with someone. He knew that. She felt so humiliated.

"I know. I was there, and if I remember correctly, you asked for it. More precisely, you begged-"

"Shut up. Just shut up." She cut him off and stood up. She couldn't hide her tears anymore.

"Why did you do it? We could have just continued meeting at family dinners. Seeing each other in the hallway and occasionally saying hello. Why did you do it?" It came as a sob. She had never felt so humiliated. It was like a truck had run over her.

"I was bored, and you were cute, and let's be honest, a little desperate," her hand found its way to his cheek with a force neither of them knew she possessed. She wanted to apologize automatically because she wasn't violent, but it didn't come out.

"I hate you so much. I will never forgive you. You are the worst person I know." She mumbled and moved toward the door.

"At least I beat Patrick to it," he found himself saying. He had to have the last word in every argument.

"No, Art. You lost to Patrick. Even in twenty years, you won't have half the character and heart that Patrick has already. You're a complete loser compared to him, and I hope you never forget that." She said without stuttering while he didn't take his eyes off her, swallowing hard, finally hearing the door slam.

The moment Liana reached her room, after passing a considerable number of people who looked at her with worried expressions, some even trying to ask if she was okay, she collapsed on the floor and let out the loudest cry that had probably ever escaped her. She felt dirty. Almost used. She had trusted the wrong person.

She picked up the phone to call the only person she thought could understand her.

"Liana, are you okay?" Patrick sounded concerned and confused, probably because of the late hour.

"He really hurt me and I didn't know who else to call," she managed to say through her tears, hearing Patrick sigh, as if silently saying he knew. He knew this would happen.

Writing this part kinda broke me. I know Art was being cruel, but well, he was acting out without thinking about the consequences. Got your requests and maybe on the weekend we'll give Liana/Patrick/Art some more layers. Keep sending me questions and such. I LOVE it. Hope you're still enjoying and again, if you wanna join the taglist, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @serenadingtigers

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson smut

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: MOVIE FINALE

THE TIME HAS COME! BRUCE IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

Somebody get some flowers! 💐 Somebody get a ring! 💍 Somebody get a chapel and a choir to sing! 🎶

Somebody get an organ to play! Cause somebody’s getting married today! 🔔 💕 🔔

This literally could not be a bigger deal! No one, and I mean NO ONE expected Bruce to ever get married. Alfred is so proud of him. He’s come such a long way. They all have.

Buuut…

Guess who’s slighted that he wasn’t invited? It’s Joker.

He’s pretty ticked at Batman. He’s taken Harley, he’s taken half his vision, he’s taken most of Gotham from him… and now he’s gonna stand up at that alter, being all happy? No no no… he’ll give him something to REALLY smile about…

So, the film goes about how you’d expect. Relationship drama, family drama, trying to put the wedding of the century together drama, and in the background, Joker’s ramping up to cause trouble. But also also in the background… Bruce is reminiscing hard on his past. He goes to visit his parents in the cemetery. He says he thinks they’d be proud of their grandkids. He just wishes… he’d finally been able to find the man who did it… who took them away from him. But then… he decides to take another look at that case… there might be some new evidence that’s come forward recently…

Anyhoo, that doesn’t last long, because: Joker.

Naturally, he hijacks the wedding, nearly stops the marriage entirely, but this time… this time, it’s not about the whole family coming together to fight a common foe. I mean, they’re all there, helping in their own ways, but… when it comes to Joker… this is it. This is the final showdown. Just him and Bruce. The way it was always meant to be. And this is the last time he tries to murder his kids, or his soon-to-be wife, or his friends. This is the last time he escapes Arkham. This is the last time he attacks Gotham.

Technically, it was Joker’s own fault… but Bruce didn’t exactly go rushing in to save him…

Either way…

…the Joker is finally dead.

Thus marks the end of an era.

The wedding continues (everyone’s a little banged up, but otherwise okay) and Bruce and Selina are officially husband and wife!

Later, at the reception, Bruce looks around at everyone… all his friends and family… and he can’t help but feel overcome with a bittersweet joy. He stands and makes a speech. He says that… when he was a boy, he thought he had lost everything. He thought his life was meaningless. He thought he would get lost in that darkness forever. But it turns out, he was never truly alone. And now, life had blessed him tenfold.

Alfred, who had never wavered once over the course of his life, and had always been there with a shoulder to cry on, or a pat on the back, or a quick scolding. The man who always believed Bruce no matter what, and who had become a father to him. He wouldn’t be the man he was today without Alfred.

Dick, the goofy kid he found years ago, and who barrelled into Bruce’s life so unexpectedly… he had been Bruce’s first guiding light. His first Robin. His first son. And he had made Bruce so proud, seeing the man he had become. A far better man than he was.

Barbara, his first Batgirl, and an unwavering ally in the fight. Her bravery and quick-thinking had saved Bruce on numerous occasions, and she had become a good friend. Not only that, but a good mentor as well. She would surely go on to do many more amazing things.

Jason, who never once stopped making him laugh. (Something Dick was always jealous of.) Jason, who they almost lost… but found his way back home. He doesn’t regret taking him in for even a second. He’d do it all over again the same way, just to see that smile of his… and although they differed in philosophy… he was proud of Jason, too.

Tim, who barged in unannounced, but ended up being the most welcome. The light he needed most during the dark days. Without Tim, Bruce might never have recovered… if it weren’t for his intelligence and determination… this wedding might not even be happening. So thanks, Tim. Thanks for all your hard work and sacrifice over the years. Bruce couldn’t be more proud.

Steph, the bravest, boldest, and loudest of them all. The glue that held them all together when all else had failed. The last bit of energy and optimism that he and Tim needed to get over those hurdles… she was just as much a blessing as any of the other Robins, despite how short her time with the title was.

Cass, who was hiding in the darkest corner of the room because she’s very antisocial, was another welcome surprise. She was growing into a fine superhero, and a wonderful person, and Bruce was happy for her.

Duke, the newest member of the family, who had never stopped working hard to help them achieve their goals and who single handedly helped keep Gotham afloat while he was away. He was proud of him too.

Of course, there were all his friends in the Justice League—Clark and Diana especially—not to mention Lucious, and all his years of hard work, Commissioner Gordon, Luke, Catherine, Harper, Claire, and so many more…

…but the person he was most thankful for was Damian. He had grown so much over these last five years. He had matured and made difficult decisions, had taught Bruce more lessons than he could count, had brought many new animal friends with him, and he had made Bruce so immensely proud to call him his son. If Thomas and Martha could see him now… Bruce knew that Damian would continue to grow into a great man. A good man. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

So here’s to family. Here’s to the long nights and the hard conversations. Here’s to the breakups and the reunions. To the first kisses, the newborn babies, the long walks and good times. Here’s to love… and here’s to the future. If it’s anything like these past 17 years… then Bruce can’t wait for it.

And now, there’s one final loose end.

After the speech, Gordon takes Bruce aside. He says, he’s got his wedding gift with him and he might want to take a look at it now. They’ve finally been able to determine who the Waynes’ killer was.

Bruce discreetly excuses himself from the party for a moment…

He goes to this quiet part of Gotham and the address listed brings him to an apartment… there’s a woman inside… and a baby… The file says that this man had been arrested for various unrelated crimes and went to prison for a total of thirty-five years. Now it seemed like he was trying to get his life together. He didn’t at all resemble the man in the alley from that night. And now that Bruce had found him… he was faced with a big question. What should he do? He watched the man eat dinner with his wife and clean up after his baby boy… they were living in a low-rent district… they looked like they didn’t have much… but they were trying. Trying their best. As much as it hurt… Bruce was happy for them. Happy that this man was in a better place. Happy that he had faced some form of punishment and had taken that as a good wake up call.

He left the apartment, no one having seen him.

Back at Wayne Manor, the reception was still carrying on down on the grounds outside. Bruce was in his study. He seemed tired. Tired, but happy. Selina came in, wondering where he had disappeared to. It was time to take off for the honeymoon. Bruce just smiled and took her hand, leading her back out. As we pan down to Bruce’s desk, we see Thomas and Martha’s case file… and on that file are written two words:

Case Closed.

Part 9 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #robin #Bruce wayne #Selina kyle #joker #batfam #fandom #Gotham files #fan fiction

[paperclip-skz]

Late Night Snack

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: mention of nightmares (reader cannot sleep), slight mention of sleep depravation, oral (f receiving), lots of teasing, overstimulation, denied orgasm, praising, thigh riding, over clothes stimulation, and pet names, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 3.5k

**************

You're startled awake in bed. Clinging your hand to your chest, Your mind is frantic. You can’t seem to keep your breathing under control until you rub gentle circles on your chest. You close your eyes trying to remember where you are. 

I’m safe. I’m home. No one is chasing me. I’m safe. I’m home.

You repeat in your mind like a prayer. You start to calm down, slowly. Your body feels weighed with sleep, but your mind has been frightened awake, leaving you no choice but to stay awake. Nightmares like these have become routine. 

You're startled awake in the middle of the night and too afraid to go back to sleep, so you just wait for your body's tiredness to drift back into a calm state. 

You lay back against your pillows and let them swallow you in their embrace. You lay there begging your brain to drift peacefully, but there is no use. Your mind is awake therefore you are. 

You get up from your bed and charge to the kitchen, thinking some cold water would help ease your mind. 

It's dark, but you know your way around your friend's house pretty well. You go to the kitchen fridge where you grab a bottle of water. 

“Can’t sleep?” a voice says. 

You jump at the sudden intrusion, spilling some water on your T-shirt.

“Who-” You squint your eyes at the couch. A hidden hue of blue light radiated off of his face. He’s silently clicking away on his computer, working on some new project. “Jesus Chan you scared me” 

Your friend had several roommates, there was Hyunjin (Your friend), Jisung, Chan, and Changbin. You stayed in Hyunjin’s room while he and his three other roommates were on a trip. You loved your best friend's flat, his room was filled to the brim with art and literature and you could stay in there forever. Needless to say, when you got kicked out of your apartment, because of some construction noise forbidding you from sleep, Hyunjin offered this little arrangement pretty quickly. Hyunjin had told you Chan might stop by the flat, but it wasn’t likely. 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he says without looking in your direction.

“What are you doing here, Jinnie said you most likely wouldn’t come to the flat, let alone in the middle of the night” You walk over to the sink where a small towel rests. 

“Well, he thought wrong” he's still glued to his computer. 

The cold water seeps into the fabric of your T-shirt. You're wearing an oversized T-shirt and your panties, you don’t normally wear a whole lot to bed to begin with and didn’t have any reason now to change that fact. But now, you're silently regretting not putting on some shorts, feeling overly exposed with Chan in the room. 

Chan lets out a ragged sigh and gently shuts his computer. He stands up walking effortlessly to you. He sits down on one of the stools behind the counter. You're still in front of the sink/other side of the counter, so he can't see anything past your T-shirt. 

“Why are you up?” He asks, tilting his head at you, but not giving any sign of a smile.

“I could ask the same about you” you banter back. You and Chan haven’t had much interaction with each other or any sort of friendship. You just know him as your friend's roommate, nothing more. Now and then You’ll see him around the flat, you admit, he’s good-looking, almost too good-looking, but you’ve never really gotten to know him so your thoughts ended there. 

“I’m working, can’t sleep because my brain won't shut off” he answers tapping his index finger on his forehead. You turn to look at the time the stove says on its clock, 2:30. Jesus it's late. “Your turn.”

You look back at him, he's still staring at you. “Um…” suddenly you feel embarrassed, he’s up because his brain won't calm down either, but why do your reasons sound childish compared to his? “Same as yours I guess, my brain won’t shut off” You turn your attention back to the water bottle you had placed down, tracing your fingers around its surface.

“You guess?” 

“Yeah, I mean it's not work-related or anything… it’s just… it's um…” You're struggling to find the words to explain yourself. Why is this so hard to admit? 

“Y/N what is it?” with nothing but concern written all over his face, you feel the wash of self-doubt leaves your body.

“I had a nightmare, and now I think my brain is too scared to go back to sleep” You answer honestly. Chan leans back in the stool, only studying you. 

“What was it about?” 

“That's the thing, I never remember.”

“This happens regularly?” he asks again, he knows he’s playing in dangerous territory and he knows these questions are far too personal, but he can’t help his curiosity about you.

“Yeah, almost every other night” You hang your head, the heat of embarrassment clawing at you. 

“What do you try to do to stop it”

“I’ve tried a lot of things, music, medication, etc. But nothing works the same, usually I just wait till I tire myself out. Sometimes all I have to do is just lie in bed for a while, other nights I physically have to tire myself out by staying up later into the night” Why am I telling him all this? You're opening up to him more than you’ve ever opened up to Hyunjin. Hyunjin knows about your nightmares, but that's all he knows. You’ve never gone into any sort of detail about them or what you do to help them, and he knows better than to ask. 

“Oh, I see” he breathes out. You look back up at him, trying to study what he's thinking, but it's almost impossible. He just stares off into the palms of his hands with a neutral expression. 

The finger you’ve been tracing the indents of the water bottle with has become cold and almost numb, so you decide to take the water bottle in hand and slowly make your exit. “Don’t let your brain take control for too long. Try and get some sleep” You pat his shoulder before walking back to Hyunjin’s bedroom. 

Until Chan’s hand wraps around your free hand preventing you from walking any further. “Are you going to sleep, or are you just going to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.” His stare bores into you, he’s completely unreadable. His touch sends fireworks dancing across your skin. 

“Um-” 

“If you're not gonna sleep, at least stay out here with me” he pleads. He actually pleads, you’ve barely had a conversation with him and now he's pleading with you to stay up with him. 

All thoughts leave your mind, his pouting lips and desperate eyes make your heart ache. “Okay” you agree, you don’t know exactly what you're agreeing to, but he's pulling your hand back to the kitchen counter. His grip remains holding your wrists, he doesn’t let go, not even when you're being pulled to be face to face with him. Instinctively you lean your body against his, resting one of your hands on his shoulder to steady you. 

His grip isn’t tight, but it isn’t unforgettable, and he doesn’t move his fingers or glide his thumb across your knuckle, he simply squeezes your hand in reassurance. You can’t help but stare. Stare at his soft features or his parted lips. 

Your thoughts become rapid, thinking about those lips and what they could do, all while the feeling of his grip isn’t lost. Your imagination peaks at the thought of his hands roaming your body, gently grasping at the base of your throat. 

The thought sends your lip tugging between your teeth, “don’t” Chan says instinctively reaching out his thumb to break your lip free. Your plump lip springs free and Chan keeps his thumb resting on your chin. The intimate contact sends sparks through your body.

Chan keeps staring at your swollen lip, it's not bruised or indented, just red and plump. He stares at his like it's his last meal and he's a man deprived. 

“If you're gonna kiss me, please do it already” He chuckles at your impatience. Chan’s hand reaches up to caress your hair, touching it lightly. Painfully slowly Chan inches closer to you, looking at you for any sign of retreat. Until his lips finally meet with yours in a slow tamed kiss. You notice his lips are so soft yet so skillful, as you snake your hand to cup his cheek in place. You crane your head to the side, deepening the kiss. He groans at the feeling of your tongue grazing his bottom lip, silently asking for permission. 

You’ve completely forgotten that you’re half naked in front of him, but that thought is long gone, as his clothed thigh wedges and skims your bare ones. The pressure you didn’t know you needed makes your thighs clamp, trapping his leg under you. You sigh into his mouth while his kiss becomes desperate. You swing your arms around his shoulders, a subtle attempt to rub your clothed core on his thigh, and you quickly become fully aware of the dampness between your legs. Chan notices your not-so-subtle attempt and flexes his thigh, making you whimper at the stiffness. 

Chan sucks every whimper, every moan, every sound you make when he kisses you, his tongue never misses a beat. His tongue swipes along your tongue, making your head spin and your walls clench around nothing. 

As you ride his thigh, his hands begin to roam over your body. Chan travels one of his hands from guiding your hips along his leg to brushing along your stomach with his fingertips and finally slightly squeezing one of your breasts. His other hand stays on your hip leading its motions along his thigh. 

Surly the stain from your panties has transferred onto his sweats. You're the first to break from the kiss, letting the stimulation take full control of your actions. Your head falls back and your eyes roll closed, the only thing Chan can do is stare. Stare at your body arching into him as you pleasure yourself on his thigh, staring at the way your hair falls perfectly along your back, staring at your breasts faintly bouncing.

 His hands rest on your lower back holding you steady as you continue your assault on his leg, painting his pants with your juices. Your pace quickens, becoming sloppy, but rapid nonetheless. 

The release builds in your lower belly. Your whimpers become louder as you chase your high, Chan hears them as music to his ears, a new song he wants on repeat. 

“Come on baby, fly for me. Let it all go for me” Chan chants like a mantra. His hands on your back grip you like a vice, while his head rests lazily on your clothed breasts. He’s so close, so intimate, you can feel his heavy breath send goosebumps over your body. 

“Chan” you cry out. You bring your head forward to meet Chan’s, his boner promptly tenting in his pants. 

“That's it baby” The stimulation on your clit begins to rile your body up with an overpowering feeling, a wave that eagerly wants to crash. 

Your body begins to shake and your legs begin to tremble. Chan’s hands become your only source of stability as your release washes over you. 

Chan holds you close to his body, his head still resting between your clothed breasts. You bring your head down to rest on Chan’s shoulder and try to catch your breath. 

You're still lying your body tiredly on Chan’s, while one of his hands caresses your back. An act so endearing a warmth spreads through your heart, a feeling that's so unfamiliar, but so welcomed. 

Finally, you bring your head up and reach to cup Chan’s jaw, bringing his eyes to meet with yours. You linger into his chestnut eyes, and your lungs fill with a need to speak, but nothing comes out. A breath escapes your parted lips. 

You decide the only thing you can do is kiss him, so you kiss him tenderly, letting your tongue swipe across his bottom lip tenderly and letting the kiss last. His hands find a perfect place on your hips. 

You both break away from the kiss, regaining your breath. His hands alone make your body needy for more. He hasn’t even really touched you and he’s already made your body quiver. The image of his hands exploring your naked body, of his finger gliding in and out your wet fold, the thought, automatically, sends your lower lip between your teeth. 

Chan chuckles slightly. He reaches one of his hands to pull your lip free once again, “what am I going to have to do for you to stop doing that?” 

Your mind races with images of Chan on top of you, of his hands on every corner of your body, of his tongue everywhere. Chan sees the smirk spreading across your lips. 

“Oh” the realization is evident in his tone “What should I do first” 

*****

You find yourself in Chan’s bed. Your oversized sleeping t-shirt somewhere lazily on the floor, while your black lacy panties still hang around your hips. 

Chan stands at the foot of the bed, staring at your slightly naked body. He leans his hands on the sides of your legs, looking down at your body, his eyes screaming with hunger. You force yourself to resist biting your lips, if anything Chan has made it clear he doesn’t like your little habit. 

Chan licks his lips as his eyes rake down your body. “What am I going to do with you”

His words send chills straight to your needy core. With the tip of his pointer finger, Chan glazes across your skin, from the valley of your breasts to the string of your panties. Your body arches from Chan's touch, begging for more. 

With a simple act, Chan lowers himself to place a soft kiss on your stomach just above your core. His fingers dance the line of your panties slowly bringing them down your leg. His teasing is so impossibly tender, so slow, so intimate. 

Your hand comes up to stroke his dark locks. Chan breaks his lips away from your skin to look up at you with lidded eyes. He can see you trying to hold back from biting your lip, he smiles at the thought of you picking up on his silent request. 

Your hand travels down to his cheek, gliding your thumb across his cheekbone. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. “Chan” you whisper, you don’t know what you're asking of him, but you need something from him. You need him to touch you, to worship you, to do something about the wetness between your legs. 

He chuckles. That small, adoring chuckle, warms more than just your heart. “Eager?” he whispers back. 

The only thing you can do is nod your head. He places another soft kiss on your skin and brings himself to the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles and gently drags you closer to the edge of the bed. He leans on his knees becoming face to face with your bare cunt. 

You lean on your elbows watching Chan's lips come closer and closer to your eager core. Anticipation grows within you, anticipation that has you sighing when Chan kisses your inner thigh, mere inches away from your throbbing center.

He places another kiss on your other thigh, this time a little closer to where you need him most. “Do you like this?” His voice is husky and it sends an unfamiliar vibration through your body. 

The whine that escapes your lips is foreign, but Chan basks in your reaction to his touch. Chan leans in closer to place a chaste kiss on your drumming clit. “What do you want?” another chaste kiss “all you have to do is tell me”. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. His words making your body shiver in delight, chan breaks away from you to look you in your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to speak, for some reason his touch is so distracting it stops any whisper of a sound from escaping your lips.

“I-” you're interrupted by the feeling of his fingers tip-toeing over your folds, spreading your wetness all over. You suck in a breath when his fingertip teases your entrance. 

Chan watches you with hungry eyes as you breathe a sigh and your body readies for a welcomed intrusion. “What do you want, baby girl?” His quiet demand makes your core throb. 

“I want you” you know he wanted you to be more specific with your words, but what are words when you can be more accurate with your actions. You bring your hand back into his roots, slowly easing him downward closer to your bare sex. 

He takes the hint with ease as he delicately kisses your clit, swiping his tongue along the rim. He takes his time licking your sensitive bud teasing you a little more before applying pressure to it with the tip of his tongue. It makes your body tense and your back arches. The familiar feeling of his finger enters your folds, but not all the way, just enough to tease your entrance and clench your walls around the fingertip of his finger. 

Your body writhes on the bed. “Stay still doll” he breathes against your core. You can’t help it, your body flutters at his words. “If you keep moving like that I’m going to have to pin you to the bed” 

His threat makes your mind go wild with desire, “is that a threat or a promise?” you challenge.

With a new determination in his eyes, he wraps his hands around the underneath of your thighs. His steel grip claws at your skin, pinning you in place. You let your back fall onto the bed.

“You might want to hold onto something babygirl” 

You chuckle at his cockiness, “you can’t ser-” you words are caught in your throat the second Chan dives into you. Sucking, licking, teasing your clit with enough force to turn your whimpers into screams. 

His grip on your hips keeps you trapped in place. You fist at the sheets, pulling as hard as you can while Chan devours you. His assault on your sex fills the room with sloppy dirty noises, you would normally be embarrassed about. 

That wave of release builds quickly and it crashes even quicker. It's not long until your body is shaking, your legs are trembling, and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure bliss. 

Chan lets you ride out your orgasam and your hand reaches down to caress his hair once again. You expect him to pull away, but when you continue to feel his tongue swiping along your folds, collecting your remaining juices, the overstimulation sends you screaming again.

“Chris” you scream.

Suddenly he stops, lifting his head, “say it again” you whimper at the loss of his tongue. Even though the overstimulation was almost too much, your second wave was about to crash so easily. 

“Wha-” 

“Say. it. Again.” he emphasizes each word like it's his last. 

“Chris' ' it comes out as a mixture of a moan and a whisper, but it's enough to send a growl to vibrate through his chest. 

He dives back into you, chasing back that second wave of release. It comes quickly and unexpectedly. You scream his name when the wash of relief shakes through your body. 

Chan removes himself from your dripping cunt and licks his lips. He makes a show of it, showing you how he savors every taste of you. Your body is limp, you can barely move. He leans up to give you a kiss, swiping his tongue along yours so that you can taste yourself. 

You can feel his hard length pressing against your thigh. Your hands rake up and down his back, bringing him closer to your naked form. 

“Someone is entirely overdressed” you tease.

“He chuckles along the corner of your lips, when he pulls away you find yourself shivering from the loss of warmth. You lean against the bed on your elbows. 

You stare as Chan makes a show of taking off his shirt. His muscles flex and you admire his toned torso. Next are his pants. He’s so slow when undoing the buttons that cage his prominent boner tenting his pants. Once his pants are fully removed, he quickly swipes down his boxers down his legs, letting his length spring free. 

Without wasting another second Chan pounces on you. Caging you within his arms and forcing your legs apart with his thigh. “I could ruin you” He whispers in your ear. His hot breath makes your body arch into his, silently begging him to be closer. 

“Do it” you challenge 

********************

: i tried something different, please let me know what you think! Everything and anything is greatly appreciated! :

#skz #limbo #smut #stray kids #story #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #short story #skz smut #fem reader #bang chan #bangchan x reader #christopher bang #bangalore #bang chan smut #chris bang #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan stray kids #bang chan fluff

[princessmisery666]

Best Con Ever

Summary: It’s all fun and games until the truth is revealed.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, drinking, silly stuff, Jared being an annoyingly good friend (seriously, he wouldn't shut up!). 

W/C: 2,381.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Alexander Calvert, Richard Richard Speight Jr.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x fem!Reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Challenge/Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Prompt/Square Filled: Making fun of one another 

Notes: Jensen is a single pringle for this one! 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine.

Graphics: dividers - @talesmaniac89 / picture in title card - @lemondropsonice - they were kind enough to grant permission to use when I asked.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

The special fan event is going so well. The intro includes party games, such as Pin the Wings on the Angel and Bowling with the Devil. The pins have pictures of demons from each season taped to them. There’s also a drinking game with “apple juice” because Jensen and Jared keep insisting “Jack” - Alex - isn’t old enough to drink yet. You’re a little buzzed, but it helps ease your nerves. 

“Ah, you said Supernatural!” Alex exclaims, pointing at Jared, and the audience collectively yells, “DRINK!”

Shots of apple juice that smell suspiciously like whiskey this time get passed around until the four of you have one, and then, as one, you shoot them back.

“Woo,” Jensen yells, sucking his teeth as he turns his back to the audience and looks at you. “Don’t let me fall over.”

“Only if you do the same for me,” you laugh. 

“I got you.” He turns to the audience again but puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. 

Of course, the audience immediately awws and gasps. “Oh shhh, you lot,” Jensen playfully scolds, “I’m just holding her up.”

“Wouldn’t want her falling now, would we?” Jared says. “Unless it's for you. Ba-dum-tss.”

He gets nothing from the band. The drummer shakes his head.

“Oh, come on!” He complains. “That was good!”

This is your first event since joining the show at the end of season eleven, but it is not the first time a potential off-screen romance has been mentioned. You have seen videos of panels where fans have asked the question, and you and Jensen have each been approached by fans on the street. With Jensen’s arm wrapped firmly around you, you are sure you can get through it without making a fool of yourself.

Jensen has been a wonderful source of support from the beginning. You had been nervous about how the fans would react because you replaced the wonderful Megalyn Echikunwoke as Cassie Robinson, Dean’s love interest from way back in season one. The inconsistencies in appearance had been loosely explained, and it was somewhat plausible in the world of Supernatural, but that didn’t bother you so much. Being Dean’s love interest was what worried you the most. The fans are so protective, and rightfully so.

“They’re going to love you,” Jensen had said when you aired your concerns. “Just like I…we do.”

He was right. The reception to the reintroduction of Cassie couldn’t have gone better. The fans loved it and accepted you and Cassie Robinson with open arms. You’d read some comments, heard second-hand from producers, and when the fans started an online petition - for fun - to get you and Jensen to date in real life after seeing behind-the-scenes footage, Jared dubbed himself the President of the “Jensen and Y/N should be a couple IRL” club.

You and Jensen played along with it. It helped ratings, and it wasn’t a chore to have Mr Ackles’ undivided attention at parties and dinners to play up to the rumors. But that's all it is: rumors. The two of you are close, on and off set, but whereas Cassie and Dean are super hot, you and Jensen are lukewarm. Hugging Jensen - though it happens often - unfortunately doesn’t lead to sex like it would with Cassie and Dean.

Richard announces it's time for the fan questions and asks those selected to form an orderly queue behind the microphone. Though the questions have been pre-approved, you get a wave of anxiety as you don’t know what they will be, and you hope this portion of the event goes as well as the rest of the day. A fan asks how your first meeting with the cast went, and you look sheepishly at Jensen. 

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes but sighs in defeat. “Fine, you can tell it.”

“Better yet, reenact it!” Jared suggests. 

Your eyes light up with something akin to glee, and Jensen raises his brow and doesn’t need to ask the question in his eyes, ‘Really?’. You pout, bottom lip sticking out as far as it will go. “Please,” you draw out.

Reluctantly, making a show of it, and very slowly, Jensen gets to his feet, leaning closer to pretend to nip at your protruding lip. 

Jared shakes his arms out as he stands up, “I’ll play Y/N.” 

“The hell you will,” Jensen says, playfully pushing him out of the way. “Y/N will play herself.”

Jared comically falls over his chair to the ground as if Jensen’s push was twice the pressure it had actually been. 

You stand up in front of Jensen and wait for the laughing audience to quiet down. Jared stands straight and holds his microphone close to his mouth. “It was a bright winter morning, not a cloud in the sky,” he narrates in a poor impression of David Attenborough’s voice. “The beautiful and elusive beast, Jensen Ackles, notices a radiant creature across the lot. Slowly, he approaches…”

Jensen shakes his head at the crowd and rolls his whole head along with his eyes but obliges the narrator. He walks the few steps and shakes your hand with way too much enthusiasm. “Hi, I’m Batman. Dean. Ackles. I mean …” he groans, trying to dismiss his embarrassment, then blushes and says, “Hi.”

You laugh again, as does everyone else. Jensen grimaces just as he did on the day. “I’m going to walk into the sun now, sorry.” he strides around you to the end of the stage, and Jared steps up to take his place. 

Jared shakes your hand like a normal person. “Translation, that’s Jensen, for I think I just fell in love with you.” 

Jensen, with his back to the two of you, throws a thumbs-up over his head. “It went exactly like that!” Jensen confirms, nodding and shrugging as he makes his way back to his seat. “And now that we’ve all relived my embarrassment, let's move on.”

The microphone gets passed to the next person, and they ask, “Jared and Jensen are known for their pranks. Have they played any on you, Y/N?” 

“Oh yes!” you answer as Jensen takes his seat beside you and squeezes your knee. “I’m hanging like twenty feet in the air,” you begin.

“That’s like three Jared’s,” Richard adds, pointing to Jared on his left.

“Exactly,” you laugh, spreading your arms and legs out in a star to show the position you were in. “I’m full on Mission Impossible Tom Cruise-ing it, three Jared’s high off the ground, and the camera breaks.” 

The audience reacts with grimaces and chuckles. 

“They tell us it will be like ten minutes, and being the awesome trooper she is,” Jensen continues, flashing you a sweet smile. “She agrees to stay up there while they fix it.”

“Of course, it takes longer than ten minutes, so Jensen and I get bored!” Jared laughs, evilly rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, they decide to rub salt in the wound,” you shake your head, laughing at the memory. “They start doing lunges and star jumps, bragging about how comfortable and free they are.”

Jared and Jensen reenact their exercises, doing over-exaggerated lunges and squats, to laughter and catcalls.

“Stop it,” you say, around almost uncontrollable laughter. “You’ll split your pants.”

“Hey, watch it,” Jensen warns, pointing a finger, “my ass is not that big!” 

“Your ass is just fine,” you smirk, the audience agreeing with whoops and hollers.

“You're not so bad yourself,” Jensen counters, winking.

“Hey, hey,” Richard chides, shouting over the raucous audience. “This is a family show.”

“ANYWAY,” Jared says loudly. “Then we used her as target practice, trying to throw Skittles in her mouth.” 

“Let me tell you, at speed, those things are like bullets.” You explain, “I swear they chipped a tooth!”

“I’ll pay for any dental work,” Jensen confirms with a slight nod. “And to answer the question, Jared and I messed with the camera. We knew she’d get stuck up there.”

You shove his shoulder, and he teeters to one side before purposely overcorrecting himself so he’s lying across your lap. 

“We still need to get him back for that one,” Alex reminds you.

Jensen scoffs, rising to sit up again. “You tried and failed. Give it up.”

You and Alex simultaneously declare, “Never!” 

“Alex and I decided to team up and get them back,” you explain to the audience.

“They tried to get me,” Jensen says, “but Jared caught them, and he told me so it didn’t work. But they managed to get Jared,” Jensen begins laughing, unable to continue the story.

“All Y/N’s idea,” Alex insists, pretending to edge away from Jared.

Jared shakes his head, tongue sitting in the pocket of his cheek while he tries to look disgruntled but can’t hide the smile he tries to contain.

“It was genius,” Jensen manages around huffs of laughter. 

“We got the wardrobe department to take in his shirts and shorten his pants a little each day for a month,” Alex says. “But it only took two weeks before he started complaining about gaining weight and growing taller.”

Jensen’s laughter stops, his demeanor turning completely serious. “I cannot tell you how annoying he was about it!”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Jared protests. 

“Dude, you were bad!” Jensen counters, “You were googling if you could have a growth spurt after thirty. It’s all you talked about for two weeks. It was so annoying!” 

“That’s me, Jared Annoying Padalecki,” he says. Then has a lightbulb moment, or perhaps a whiskey-inspired one, and jumps off the stage. Everyone laughs as they watch him cheekily shove to the front of the question queue, dropping to his knees. 

“Hi, I’m Gen from Texas, and this is for Jensen,” he says in a higher pitched voice than anyone would expect could come out of the giant of a man. “I would like to know what your favorite scene to film was from the last season. And why is it the sex scene with Y/N from episode three?”

Jensen closes his eyes, face scrunched and lips pursed in mock annoyance as he flips Jared off.

“What a great question, Gen,” you chuckle, turning to stare at Jensen. “It was definitely one of my favorite scenes to film.”

“It was a fun day,” Jensen agrees. “Usually, sex scenes are super awkward and embarrassing, but it wasn’t. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a day in the back of Baby with all this,” he gestures toward Y/N, “on top of you.”

Jared gets to his feet, using a fan's shoulder to hoist himself up, and then bends to reach the microphone. “Follow-up question,” Jared begins, “this time for Y/N. Are you free for dinner tonight? Asking for a friend.” 

“Oh, for a friend,” you say, leaning to look around Jensen and at Alex. “Well, in that case, I’m free anytime, Mr Calvert.” you wink. 

Jensen leans forward, pointing a warning finger at him, “No!” 

“Urgh, Alex,” Jared groans, using a long leg to step back onto the stage, “you’re such a troublemaker!”

The next fan is given the microphone. “So it’s been twelve seasons; what mementos have you taken from the set?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Jared answers immediately, then sings, “Jensen’s in trouble. He stole the infamous demon Dean's red shirt.” 

Jensen throws his hands up, shaking his head. “I did not! I don't know who did, but it wasn't me.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. “So some ghost took it out of your trailer?” 

“Maybe,” Jensen shrugs. “This is Supernatural.” 

The drummer immediately punctuates his response, the hiss of the snare still echoing as Jared stands up in protest. But the audience is too quick, and they yell, “DRINK!” 

“You lot are a bad influence,” Jensen tells them as you all make your way to the drinks table at the back of the stage.

You hold your microphone down while Richard pours the shots. Leaning closer to Jensen, you ask, “Are you really in trouble because of it?”

Jensen scoffs, “No, of course not. But they need it for a photo shoot, and they want to auction it off for charity. They’ve been on my ass for weeks.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Jensen asks, very much channeling Dean in his expression. “Do you know something about it?” 

You wince, trying to feign innocence, but it's no good. You know you’ve been caught out, and you’ll have to give it back. “I took it,” you confess.

“What? Why?” 

You can’t think of a lie quick enough. So with a nonchalant shrug, that's all for show because you don’t feel it at all, you admit, “I like it. It's a nice shirt to sleep in, and it smells like you.”

“If you want something that smells like me, you can have me!” Jensen blurts out loud enough that the mics lowered at your sides pick it up.

The fans erupt, screaming and shouting. They get to their feet and clap. Alex and Jared talk over each other, but it all becomes white noise as you stare at Jensen, who stares back. 

“Screw it,” he says, and you're the only one who hears it. But everyone sees him take a small step into your space and place a gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls back enough to look at you for any reaction, and when you lightly smile, he slips a hand down your cheek and draws you in closer for a deeper kiss this time. 

The crowd goes wild. Your ears will be ringing for days.

Jensen keeps the kiss PG13, but you go as far as wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. It ends too soon, but you remind yourself that you are being watched. He leans back, smiling happily. “Sorry if that was out of line.”

“The only thing that was out of line was how long it took you to do that.” 

He shrugs one shoulder, tongue sitting behind his teeth. “Sorry.”

Jared tries to get control of the audience, but it doesn’t work. Jensen walks to the edge of the stage and holds up a hand, silencing them with the simple gesture. 

Once it's quiet enough, he smiles, boyish and wide. “Best. Con. Ever.”

Master Lists: Dean Winchester / Main

Tags Info

Tag List: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @Pank0w / @kmc1989 / @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

#jacklesversebingo23 #jensen ackles #spn #con fic #fanfic #rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fluff #jared padalecki #alex calvert #jensen ackles con #convention #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #fluff #cons

[sunshineandspencer]

Glorified Assistant (Iridescent, Part 2)

A/N: This is more for Maeve and Spencer!! And honestly I hate writing enemies to lovers, I believe in makeout on sight, so enjoy me trying to make a believable hatred.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: She’s been given paid leave to basically be Spencer’s assistant, and it almost isn’t worth it.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Parts: Pt1, Pt3

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Here is more of Maeve and Spencer.

Maeve thought she was home and free.

She hadn’t been fired (score!), and now Spencer was going away for his mandated thirty days off. Apparently he was doing some teaching at the local college, good for him, it also means they won’t have to interact and hopefully he gets his head out of his ass so that she doesn’t cry when they work together.

They’d left on a particularly sore note, considering that she’d been the one to drive him home and he made it very clear how much he hated the entire interaction.

Of course, he didn’t say a word, struggling to fit into her little, gorgeous dark blue mini and then clenching white-knuckled to his knees for the entire journey. He, actually, didn’t say a thing until he got out of the car, slamming the door shut and turning to scowl at her.

“You’re a fucking maniac. Take some more damn lessons.”

As he stormed off into his apartment, annoyingly only five minutes from her own building, she grumbled under her breath. She’d only grazed maybe one curb, and that wasn’t even her fault, it jumped out at her.

Whatever, she’d been able to sleep easy knowing that she wouldn’t have to see him for several more weeks, giving her time to prepare.

…

Until she was woken by her phone ringing at 5am, answering it blindly because she’s used to work calling her at stupid hours. It was her boss.. however, she was asked to take thirty days of paid leave - which she’s surprised the Bureau can even afford - to be the one to take Spencer too and from the college and just kind of shepherd him around for whatever he needed.

Apparently his car, old and vintage as it was, had been idle for too long and wouldn’t start. Since Spencer can’t be bothered to sort it out, and Maeve lives closest, and she’s his partner, obviously this falls to her to deal with.

Maeve, forever a pushover and unable to say no to any figure of authority, agreed and practically threw her phone across the room when she was done.

Understandably, she didn’t get any more sleep, getting ready for the day with the only solace that he looks like an idiot in her car. Making them both a coffee and putting them into her reusable travel cups, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her to drive into a wall.

After about ten minutes of calling him and getting no answer, she gets out of her illegally parked car and storms up. Although it’s really hard to storm anywhere in an elevator.

Hammering on his door, it took all of two seconds before it flew open and he barged past her, causing her to scowl over at him.

“Damn! Watch it! What’s your problem today?”

He barely looked at her, locking the door behind her as he struggled with a bunch of papers in his hands. A harsh frown on his face that matched his equally-pissed voice.

“Fucking coffee machine broke.”

“I got you one already, Christ..” Sucking in a breath and following after him as he goes for the stairs, thankfully he only lives on the third floor. “What’s with the papers?”

Spencer went ahead of her on the stairs, and she found herself rushing after him and his stupidly long legs. Cursing him with all the colourful words that she knows on her way after him.

“Car insurance, I’m driving today.”

Insurance? He got insured on her car without telling her? All to avoid her driving. This man is a level of petty that teenage girls aspire to be, and she has to resist the urge to pout as she trailed out of the building after him.

“But why? My driving wasn’t--”

“Stop asking so many questions and get in your little clown car.”

Quietly fuming, she didn’t even thank him as he held open the passenger door for her, sliding into the seat and picking up her coffee. Drinking it and trying to squash the thoughts of throttling him.

As he gets into the driver seat and immediately starts rearranging everything, her mirrors, seat, radio, she wonders just how long it would take for someone to realise that he’s missing.

Before he even drove off, gripping the wheel far too hard for her liking, he spoke lowly and glared ahead. As if he was stopping himself from glaring at her.

“Don’t come up to my apartment again. I will come to you. I expect you to be ready by six thirty, and since you have a working machine, you can make the coffees.”

“.. just drive already.”

She’s going to kill him by the end of this.

Considering she got paid to leave to, essentially, be Spencer’s glorified assistant, she decided to make the most of it.

Plus, annoyingly, his lectures are actually pretty interesting - as much as she tried to stop giving a shit. Between running to get him more coffees, again assistant, and handing out things to the students, she gets to sit and just listen to him talk about whatever content he chooses.

Psychopaths, mainly, their brains and behaviours, which she enjoyed immensely when she studied psychology and criminology. Damn, but.. he’s really good to listen to.

By the third lecture of the day, she was sat at the desk to the side of the platform, usually reserved for teaching assistants, scribbling in a pretty lilac notebook she bought from the student store. Taking actual notes for his lecture, thoroughly enjoying the content of the lecture and not the fact that it’s Spencer.

Spencer had noticed, immediately, of course, and hated it. 

He doesn’t know what she’s hoping to achieve, or prove, because it definitely isn’t impressing him, and he can’t fathom the idea that she’s doing the work to just do the work. Why would she, after he’s purposely been an ass to her purely for existing.

There’s no way she’s actually just paying attention.

So, to test her, for his own morbid curiosity and the need to try and embarrass her in front of all these people, he decided it would be fun to throw random questions to her. Not even related to the topic he was covering. To him, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to handle stress well.

As he proposed hypothetical questions to the students, he turned to Maeve with a grin on his face, which she finds much more unnerving than a scowl. Hands clapping together as he brought all the attention onto her.

“And for my.. assistant.” Oh, yeah, she absolutely hates that, even more than his smug little grin. “What are the disadvantages of Mary Ainsworth’s study when examining infant attachment?”

Now it was time for her own smug little grin to settle on her lips, which he certainly didn’t like the implications of.

It was clear that he hadn’t expected her to know the answer, or even have enough of a knowledge base to even remotely know what he was talking about. Thankfully she had always been a pushover, and when her friends begged for her to sit in on their presentations in college, she learnt a lot. Especially the ones who presented developmental psychology.

Also, a few times she opted to speak in front of lectures purely because she felt bad for the lecturers when no one would volunteer, which meant she was quickly forced to grow out of her fear of public speaking. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, getting comfortable.

“Mary Ainsworth was American. And she made an American based model, off American children and families, testing it solely in America. It cannot be generalised to other countries.”

“But-”

He tried to cut her off, but she wasn’t done yet. That wasn’t nearly enough to feel like she’d finally won something between them.

“And. When it was, by Kroonenberg and Ijzendoorn, it was proven to have terrible generalisation. Because other cultures and countries have very different ways of rearing children that don’t fit her American guidelines.”

Spencer looked like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle her, and if it weren’t for the crowd of whispering students, he probably would’ve done. Giving him a soft smile, which only he knew was completely fake, she picked her pen back up and tapped her notebook.

“If that’s all, Doctor Reid, I was enjoying your lecture on psychopathic brains.”

And as she looks back down, he has to force himself to continue lecturing to curb the rumours he can hear being created by suddenly-dejected female students. Trying not to sigh at the knowledge that people are going to think they’re sleeping together.

Throwing one last glare her way, not even needing his profiling to know that she so gets off on calling him ‘Doctor Reid’. The simultaneous irritation and begrudging admiration was making him dizzy, wanting nothing more to chuck something at her head.

Whatever, on the way home, he’ll take the longest route he knows to run her petrol down to nothing. Anything to get another mental tally on their growing rivalry.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

[fraddit]

Buddie Fic Fragment No. 1

1k words | teen | complete

Tags: love confession, unrequited love, bucktommy break up, angst, ambiguous/open ending, Eddie Diaz being mean to himself

-

The person knocking is exactly who Buck had hoped it wouldn’t be. Eddie has his determined face on when Buck opens the door, so this is exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid. Well… It’d been nice while it lasted.

Except, it hadn’t actually been nice. Buck has been acting weird for the last two weeks, despite his best efforts, and Eddie’s obviously noticed.

“What’s going on, Buck?” Eddie asks without so much as a hello, as Buck steps aside to let him in. He looks as tired and worn down as he always does these days. Since Chris left.

“Funny, I was about to ask you that, since you’re the one that showed up my door unexpectedly,” Buck answers, like maybe he can still play this whole thing off. It earns him one of Eddie’s champion side-eyes.

“You’ve been acting weird for the last two weeks and trying to hide it. You think I haven’t noticed?”

“Have I?” He heads to the fridge. It’s partly out of habit, but mostly out of an excuse to put some distance between him and Eddie — who shakes his head no when Buck asks via body language, if he wants a beer.

Buck doesn’t want one either, so he shuts the fridge, empty handed, and retreats further behind the safety of the kitchen island. He tucks himself into the corner and leans against the cabinets next to the sink.

“You know you have. I know you have. The rest of the team knows you have,” Eddie says stepping closer, but staying on his side of the room. “And I’ve been waiting for you to come to me with whatever it is, but you haven’t. I thought you knew that you can tell me anything. Do you not— Do you not trust me? Did I do something to—“

“I’m in love with you,” Buck shoves out because he can’t live with Eddie worrying that Buck could somehow ever not trust him.

“— piss you off or make you think that… What?” Eddie freezes. Stares at him with complete and total shock on his beautiful face.

This is exactly what Buck was afraid of, but… the band-aid’s off, now. In a way it’s a relief.

“I’m in love with you. That’s why I’ve been acting like a freak. I know you don’t feel the same way, so I was hoping I could just keep it to myself but I…”

“You suck at keeping things from me,” he finishes, breaking eye contact and looking down at the island where he carefully spreads his hands across the laminate surface, like he needs something to hold him up.

“I suck at keeping things from you.”

Eddie doesn’t move. Stays totally still. Buck can practically see the gears turning in his head as he absorbs Buck’s confession. “This doesn’t change anything between us okay?” he says, still staring at the countertop. But then he looks up. Looks Buck square in the eye. “I love you. Not— Not the way you love me. But, I love you.”

It’s so so close to what he’d told Buck several months ago, when Buck came out to him. It had made him feel better then.

It doesn’t now.

“I know you do, Eddie,” and they can both hear how heartbroken and resigned he sounds. He already knew all this. So why does it hurt so much to hear it?

The silence of the moment draws out uncomfortably between them.

Then something clearly occurs to Eddie. “Tell me this isn’t why you broke up with Tommy.”

And well… Buck can’t tell him that, so he doesn’t say anything. Instead he looks down at the floor in front of his feet. There’s a dark purple spot of dried smoothie splatter on of the tiles.

“Buck! Really?!”

“What do you expect me to say, Eddie?” he asks with enough exasperation to finally look at him again. “It’s not like once I realized how I feel about you, we could just keep on dating. That wouldn’t have been fair to him!”

“Except that Tommy’s—“ Eddie slams his mouth shut and drags his hands down his face.

“Tommy’s what?”

“Nothing,” Eddie says, hands falling limp at his side. “Forget it.”

Buck steps out from around the island but keeps a few stools between them. “No, Eddie. Tommy’s what?”

“Tommy’s actually a good guy!” Eddie barks out before looking immediately shocked he said it at all.

“Tommy’s a great guy.” And at first, Buck doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything. Then he realizes what Eddie actually meant. “But Eddie… So are you.”

“Track record says you’re wrong.”

“What track record?”

“My track record! Shannon. My team in the army. Ana. Marisol. Kim. My kid who is currently 700 miles away because he can’t even look at me. My— my whole life, Buck! All I do is let people down.”

“Eddie, is that what you think of yourself?”

“Pretty hard to think anything else, at this point,” he says before leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms protectively.

And now Buck’s heart is breaking for an entirely different reason. “Eddie…” He’d get closer, try to offer some sort of physical comfort, but Eddie turns his head away, looks toward the door like he’s about to bolt. So, Buck stays where he is.

“Eddie, you’re my favorite person.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be.”

“You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to decide how I feel about you. And to be honest, I don’t know how I could ever feel any other way about you. Not when you’re brave and kind and compassionate and caring and thoughtful. And you’re a really great dad.” Eddie gives the barest shake of his head at that. “You are. I know you don’t feel like it right now, but you are. You are, Eddie. And you’re a really good friend, too. And you have never let me down.”

Eddie scoffs and wipes away a tear that was about to fall. “Just a matter of time, Buck.”

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 abc #made by fraddit #911 by fraddit #shut up fraddit

[azuretl]

Random Tsubakino rambling here…

A lot of people have been talking about Tsubakino and his pronouns since my last post. Thank you for loving him and respecting what he wants to be called!

But I think I need to clarify something…

His pronouns in the English translation are he/him. That’s what we were told by the manga editorial team. Editorial does not always reach out to tell the localization team HOW to address a character, and we’re incredibly lucky we got an answer. Just an FYI, I asked the project manager to talk to editorial literally months before we got an answer—it’s really rare that they get involved with things like this. I also asked the project manager if there were any additional notes or memos so I could get more insight on why Tsubakino uses he/him, and the answer I got was: no. The comment we got back was just “he/him.” Which I assume means the rest about this character is up to interpretation.

That might be why other language translations didn’t get the same memo. Localization and publishing might have also been done under a different umbrella and editorial couldn’t reach out to them? I wouldn’t know. So the localizers did their best and used their best judgement to address the characters(is what I think happened).

Tsubakino is a multifaceted character. He’s very complex and I wouldn’t blame ANYONE for thinking his pronouns may be she/her, he/him or they/them. And although editorial told us to use he/him, I honestly think, as a fan of the series, that Tsubakino wouldn’t have minded if someone else addressed him with a different pronoun as long as it’s not out of malice. He loves without borders or labels and that’s why we should treat him with the same respect.

That being said, there is definitely a part in the manga where Shizuka says that she sees Tsubakino as a sister. That can be taken in all kinds of different ways, like how a tomboy girl can be treated like a “bro” with the boys, or how I call my gay friend my sister. It’s an open-ended, boundless potential of what Tsubakino is as a person and proof of just how close and loving the two characters are for each other.

In my mind, Tsubakino is a symbol for everyone and anyone who just wants to love what they love. He can be anything you view him as because what’s important aren’t his labels but his boundless love. It’s important to keep in mind what he represents and not just what’s on the surface. Wasn’t that the lesson he was teaching us from the very beginning?

After thought: I have no idea who is translating the anime and I wouldn’t be surprised if they use a different pronoun for Tsubakino if/when he appears. I don’t know if they got the same memo or got any memos at all, so please be kind when he shows up in the anime. Everyone’s interpretation of him is different and I don’t think that’s really a bad thing when represents so much for so many people.

#wind breaker #Tsubakino #manga #localization

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head

master list

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I ca

Synopsis: An old farm set on a couple hundred acres of land, surrounded by forest and wildlands. Lucy Maclean is now the new owner of her childhood home, much to her family’s dismay and anger. The land doesn’t feel the same without her Granddaddy around, the woods seem darker and much more vast. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s alone in the middle of nowhere for the first time in her life. Her great uncle Harris has stepped up to help her learn the ropes of the business, which is bigger than Lucy ever imagined. 

Her neighbor Cooper Howard, is happy to meet a new face in the area. Bonding over their shared grief and strife to make ends meet as the world is changing. Their worlds are shaken when Lucy’s home is vandalized, and secrets that were supposed to be buried forever begin to emerge from the woods.  Horror, mystery, and drama all rolled into one. There is something in the woods.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

Grandpa Tim passed yesterday, as much as Lucy wanted to say it was peaceful, it wasn’t. The man had always been tough as nails, but cancer was tougher. Though Lucy had fought hard to keep him comfortable, there was only so much the Doctors could do. His hand gripping hers as he gasped for breath, feeling his heart rate speed up as his body tried to fight it. But he had signed a DNR, there was no going back. So Lucy sat there with tears in her eyes as she watched the man who had raised her slip away. One of the nurses hugged her and told her she was brave. Brave for letting him go, for letting him finally be at peace. Lucy stayed as they loaded him up onto a stretcher to be taken to the funeral home. Remembering the disappointment on his face when they told him he wouldn’t be a viable organ donor. The cancer had spread too fast and too far for anything to be usedable. It was a final sting, knowing that his body wouldn’t even be able to help others. 

-----

The funeral was big, with everyone within ten counties coming over to say farewell to their favorite farmer. Tim had lived here his whole life and was born on the property where he raised his kids and grandbabies. His wife, Lucy’s Grandma, Shirley was buried in the same plot he would be now. Shirley had died six years ago after undergoing a complicated heart surgery. Now they could be back together again. It was one thing Tim had talked about the most as he neared his final days, how excited he was to see Shirley again. He often pondered if he would wake up in heaven and if she would look as pretty as the day she met him. Or maybe she looked as beautiful as the day she passed. 

Tears flowed all around, Tim was as big as life. He was always the first to help. Wildfire? He'd be there with his tanker trailer, pump, and hoses. Cow with a calf stuck?  He knew how to move the calf just right to get them out. Farmer got hurt? He was there with his tractor to make sure the work still got done. The school needs sponsorship? He'd be the first to give his dollar. He was a salt of the earth man. Tim was from this earth. As he was raised down into his grave, Lucy pulled out a mason jar of dark black earth. He had told her exactly where to go to get it. A little bit from the garden that Shirley had loved, a little bit from around where his favorite animals were buried, and a little from the first piece of land he had ever worked into a field. He wanted to make sure that a piece of the land he loved would be buried with him. 

Lucy could barely hold back the sob as she opened the jar and carefully sprinkled it on top of his grave. Others joined in, some had flowers, and others had their own dirt. A bundle of dried wheat, some oats, canola oil, and a pair of cow ear tags. As the items dropped the feeling of finality swept over Lucy. He was really gone. The man who had supported her through everything over the last twenty-five years was now in a box. Surrounded by the things and people he loved. On his right the love of his life Shirley, and on the left the two sons he had to bury before him. One was Lucy’s Dad, his headstone is where she went, placing another small jar of dirt beside it. Tears ran down her cheeks as she said how much she missed him, and that he needed to give Grandpa a big hug for her. 

—-

“I am not sure why there is even a discussion happening.” Shrilled Henry, the last-born son of Tim MacLean. He was a fidgety bird-like man who had been all too happy to get off the shit-hole farm. His words. 

“I am the only son, so clearly it should go to me,” Henry pipped, examining his perfect nail beds.

“Why would you think Dad would want you to have the farm? You haven't been here since Mom died.” Katie scolded. A favorite daughter, but still a middle child. She was a petite woman who had married a chicken farmer down south, she wasn't frequent to the farm but she always had made sure to phone once a week.

“Katie, you don't got much to say,” Theresa quipped, she was the eldest of six kids. She was three times divorced and spent most of her time in Europe. “You got your own farm and your own land.”

“Never said I wanted the land, Theresa,” Katie bit back at her older sister. “Just figured it should go to someone who could use it.”

“Who says I wouldn't use it?” Henry joined in, “I know plenty of people who would be happy to help.”

“Oh yeah, I am sure your closet of boy toys could be persuaded to help.” Theresa sneered, making Martha, Henry's wife, gasp.

“How dare you!” Martha gasps clutching at her purse.

“Don't you start, Theresa!” Henry added, grabbing his wife's hands and glaring at Theresa.

A roar began in the small waiting room. People arguing and yelling, and a magazine went flying. Lucy tried to tuck herself away from the madness. She was the only Grandkid there and the ‘adults’ were losing it.

“Alright.” A big man in overalls and a brown shirt stood up. Great uncle Harris MacLean, Tim's second youngest brother. The man was imposing and loud, and easily commanded the room. Making sure everyone settled back in their chairs without more damage. 

“What would your father think of all of you? Damn shame. Fighting over what isn't even yours.”  Harris came over and put a comforting hand on Lucy’s shoulder. 

“None of you were here when your Dad got sick. Didn’t hold his hand when he passed. When he asked for your Mama. But y'all sure show up looking for another handout.” Harris sat down beside Lucy. “Pretty sure the will has all the answers.”

The couples and their lawyers murmured between themselves.  Eyes glaring at each other from across the room, the coffee table scatters different papers.

“You doing alright Lucy?” Harris asked, glaring at his relatives, his voice low enough that only she could hear him. 

Lucy shrugged, “Was hoping it would be smoother.” Hoping was one thing, it was another to have this many MacLean's in one room.

“Thought your Mom would have come down.” Harris let out a huff, watching all his shifty relatives closely. 

“She's busy in Mexico with her latest fling.” Lucy sighs shifting uncomfortably in her seat, why were waiting room chairs always so uncomfortable? 

“Of course she is. Oh, Rosealy, you were never much for settling down.” Harris sighed, big hands rubbing against his dirty jeans. Margie would be pissed to know he showed up at the lawyers in stained clothes.

A striking man walked into the room, he was wearing a pinstripe grey suit that matched his silver hair. He was all long legs and a lean figure, the suit made him look imposing. Looking at the room taking in the rag-tag bunch and disheveled coffee table.  

“I am guessing you all are the Maclean family?” He says, a faint hint of British accent tinging his voice. 

“Yes that would be us,” Henry chirped, his eyes wandering over the man. 

The man let out a sigh, “Well I suppose if you are all here, we will read the will. I'm positive we do not have any other space-” He glanced around, “For everyone.” 

Lucy stood up and handed the man a folded envelope. The man opened it and read it through before reading it out loud. 

“Here is the Last Will and Testament of Tim Louise MacLean, of Rosewood, I make this will being in sound mind and body.” The man continued, going through the document quickly. “I leave an account to each of my five grandchildren held in trust till they turn eighteen. To my last daughter Lucy Rose MacLean, I leave all my property, and worldly possessions, as well as give her exclusive access to my accounts. To the rest of my children, I ask that you remember that you never had a want in this world. From schooling to houses, and though I love you into entirety. Lucy was my first grandchild, and my last child to raise, the one who loved the farm more than me or Shirley ever could. She will be the one to make any decision regarding the property and finances. “ 

Lucy’s mouth had fallen open as the room had erupted in an outcry. Her heart pounded in her chest at the realization that Grandpa had left everything to her. She watched as Tim’s kids stood and demanded that the will be read again. That their lawyers would have to read it, Henry going so far as to say he would contest it in court. 

“If everyone would please be quiet,” The man in the suit hollered, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. The room fell silent as they all turned to look at him. “I understand this can be hard news for everyone. But this will was originally formed a decade ago, it has been updated yearly. Including 6 months before Mr. MacLean’s diagnosis. I can assure you that he was of sound mind, it was notarized and signed by three separate witnesses.” 

Henry was sitting with his arms crossed, Theresa looked close to tears, Katie was bright red, and Great Uncle Harris just looked amused. 

“You are all within your legal rights to try and take this to court. But, I can assure you no judge in the area would not dismiss this case outright.” He made sure to look at each of them in the eye.

“As for Ms. Lucy MacLean. I have a large amount of paperwork to go over with you. As well as an appointment with the bank.” His green eyes locked on to Lucy’s.

“May I bring my Uncle Harris with me?” Lucy asked, her hands tight fists in her lap.

“Yes, of course, love.” The lawyer said, before turning on his heel and walking down a hallway.

----

It took three weeks to finalize everything, Henry had gone to the court, and he had tried several times, unsuccessfully to get the will reexamined. At the same time, Lucy was engulfed by phone calls, emails, and more. Most of these were tenants of Tim wanting to sort leasing arrangements, others were about moving cattle to new grazing homes. Lucy was never more grateful for her Uncle Harris, he had known most of these men and women. Was able to handle the negotiations and fill Lucy in on what she needed to do regarding cattle, seeding, planting, and more. There was also opening up the house again. When Tim had gone into hospice,  Lucy, Margie, and Harris had taken time to go through things. Tim had not had many worldly possessions, a fire had taken most of that less than five years before. But things like a new mattress, power hooked up, gas running, and the wood stove inspected all needed to be done. 

Lucy sat in the middle of a mostly empty house. She had decided at the last minute to leave her job as an x-ray tech and move to the farm. It wasn’t ideal, but she also had come into a fair sum of money. Her Grandpa had been a smart man and a frugal one too. He had kept most of his and Shirley’s money tucked away in investment accounts that had built a neat little sum of cash. Shirley had always wanted to travel once they had retired, so she had also stashed money away as well. It hurt Lucy’s heart knowing that they had never gotten to do that. 

But now it was in her hands, sort of kinda, she had leaned heavily on her Uncle Harris. He was so incredibly kind and made sure she never felt stupid about the millions of questions she asked. The first year they were leasing almost everything, the hundred head of cows Grandpa still had would be taken care of by Cooper, a neighbor down the way. Lucy had given herself two years to get herself sorted and get more acquainted with the workings of the farm. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known how to do things, she could run a tractor, cut down trees, med fences; she knew how to preg check cows and what to look for when tilling a lot. But the business end of things was a whole different ball game and she was diving headlong into it.

The trailer was doublewide, the living room had a couch and lazy boy, and the kitchen had a table with 4 chairs. The walls were mostly bare except where Lucy had put her artwork. She had also moved a handful of bookshelves in and her desk. It was surprisingly roomy and beat her eighties-era apartment she had lived in for the last five years. She had slid the desk and table together spreading out all the different pieces of paperwork, along with a large map of where all Grandpa’s property was. Her property, she corrected herself. It was hers now, somehow. Where she lived she was surrounded by almost 200 acres of forested land backed onto parkland. Besides the garden beds, barn, and shop it was wild land. It was one thing that Grandpa had asked to stay the same. That the land around the property be left untouched by man or machine, she planned to keep it that way. Even when several large logging companies had called knocking, for Lucy her grandfather's words meant everything.

A knock on the front door woke her from her musing. She also needed to go get a couple of dogs, not just for company; but also so she knew if someone was coming down the long drive. She walked over to the front door, steeling herself to be met with another person wanting to buy or hunt on the land. Opening it she was surprised to see a man standing there in a cowboy hat, fitted jeans, and button-up shirt. Scruffy face with a day’s worth of stubble, bright hazel eyes, and a blinding smile.

“Good afternoon,” The man said with a nod, “I’ve come over to introduce myself -’

“If you’re looking for hunting, logging, buying, grazing, or leasing, I am not interested,” Lucy said curtly, she really didn’t have a lot of time to dally. 

“Oh no,” The man said, holding up a large hand, “I am the neighbor down the road with your Granddad’s cows. And a friend of your Uncle Harris’. He said that you’d moved in just down from me, so figured it was only neighborly to come say hello.”

Lucy’s shoulders sagged a bit, she had gotten so used to people wanting something from her she had forgotten that most folks out here were friendly.

“I am so sorry,” Lucy sighed, “It’s been a tough month. Been a lot of folks wanting a piece of what’s not theirs.”

The man nodded, “I can only imagine. Not many people have morals these days. If there is a buck to be made they’ll take it. My name’s Cooper.” 

He extended a hand, and Lucy took it and gave him a firm handshake. “Lucy, I am Tim’s Granddaughter.”

“Pleasure to meet yah,” Cooper said with the same grin. “Tim was a good man and talked very highly of his last daughter. You meant the world to him.”

Lucy gave a half-hearted smile, it still felt so wrong that her Grandpa was gone. “Do you want to come in? I can make some coffee?”

“Oh, I will take a raincheck on that. Gotta go check on our newest heifers, see who all needs taggin’ and whatnot.” He said a small grin tugging at his mouth. “Want to come?”

Lucy looked back at the table full of papers, “I am gonna have to pass today,” She could see some disappointment flicker across his features. “But let me give you my number,”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he dug into his jeans for his phone, the two of you exchanging numbers. 

“Just in case, umm, you need help with the cows” Lucy felt a bit flustered, “Never know.”

The man smiled and tipped his hat to her, “I will see you around Lucy.”

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** Yes this is fic number 3 please don't yell at me. I've had this one sitting for a while. Will mostly likely be updating this one once/twice a week along with all the others.. I DON'T NEED SLEEP. Sleep is for the dead.

#alternate universe #au #fallout au #fallout #fanfic #cooper howard #writing #fallout tv #writer #lucy maclean #lucy x cooper #cooper x lucy #horror #thriller #mystery #murder mystery #ghoulcy atomic blast

[whumped-by-glitter]

Chapter 1, Pt 1: Dasa's Dream

⚠️CW: Institutionalized slavery, degradation, dehumanization, objectification, emotional whump, blood/licking blood, food whump (starvation/poisoning), sadistic whumper, cold calculating whumper, multiple whumper, sensory deprivation, fantasy whump.

✨️I want to thank my amazing beta reader who has been listening to my incessant and at times wild and chaotic babble. you have been amazing @3-2-whump! I seriously couldn't have done it without you!✨️

I'd also like to thank @i-eat-worlds for the feedback, too! as well as everyone else who has listened to my world building (talking through things helps me world build) and everyone who has sent me asks over these past months. you have all been so encouraging, and I appreciate you all more than you know!

Story under the cut:

The distant crowds roared with excitement as the blindfolded Drar slave was led up the stone stairs by an armed guard. He didn’t need his sight; he could tell everything by sound alone. He was grateful for the break from restraints though. His Master had been in a mood lately, and he could not recall the last time he could move his limbs freely.

He could tell when they reached the top of the stairs, the crowd's roar ringing strong and the sun warming his skin. The smell of the blood-soaked dust rose in the air from beneath his feet.

One of the guards roughly shoved him further into the arena. “Move it, mongrel,” he growled.

He obediently stepped forward, not reacting to the name. That was one of the terms he was called. Dog, mutt, mongrel, cur, slave, it really didn’t matter to him, he had no real name. Obedience and pleasing his master were all that mattered to him. He was just a tool, and tools didn’t care about names. It was easier to simply not care

His opponent was dragged in soon after him. He could tell a lot about them without being able to see them, though the crowd did obscure a lot as well. Dog could also assume his opponent was larger than him, didn’t take a great academic nor animalistic senses to know the latter. Years of consuming poisons had stunted his growth and normal Drar abilities.

“Reminder this is not a death match or an execution match. Refrain from killing your opponent,” the overseer announced to the two fighters. This was a fact that relieved the dog greatly.

The Dog bowed gracefully to the overseer, then to his opponent, and then to each side of the arena. The other did the same, presumably. It was hard to hear the whisper of fabric that would give these movements away over the crowd.

He at no point had been given permission to remove his blindfold, so he kept it on as he took his stance. He didn’t need his sight anyway, though it would have helped.

The fight itself was over quick, hardly worth the fuss of getting cleaned and to the arena. He wasn’t as strong or as large as other Drar, but he was fast, faster than most. Due to his master blindfolding him for hours every day, his senses were much keener as well. If he could outmaneuver his opponent and end it fast, he would win. allowing the fight to drag out would be a recipe for disaster though, he could tell the other slave was strong, even for a Drar.

-

“You idiot mutt!” his master hissed, digging his nails into the slave's jaw. “Why wouldn’t you remove your blindfold?”

“No one told this dog it could,” The Mutt replied stoically. He kept his face neutral as best as he could, struggling to contain his confusion. His master felt unusually tense, and usually he made him fight handicapped. He knew pointing out that usually he wasn’t supposed to would be interpreted as back talk.

“Corvius,” a man interrupted.

“Coming, just give me a moment.” His master turned back to the slave. He pulled the blindfold off, and the Mutt instantly dropped his gaze to avoid looking at his master’s face. “You are to stand there, you are not to move, you are not to speak.”

“Yes, master.”

His master produced a small object that resembled a lapel pin without a back. The top of it was marked with swirling sigils. Mutt knew this object well and braced himself. There was a sharp stab in his chest, and then the world went black.

Once the pin was embedded in his flesh, it blocked his hearing, sight, and smell completely. There were some versions that blocked all 6 Drar senses, but thankfully his master rarely used those. Those were terrifying.

It felt like hours, but it was probably only minutes when he felt someone grab and excitedly shake his hand. The softness of the touch confused him, but he couldn’t help but savor it. It was small and warm, and it felt like a child’s. He almost never felt a kind touch, so this was a novelty he would remember for a long time.

He then felt a rougher, but not unkind, set of hands turn his face this way and that. All he could tell was that it was not the familiar grip of his master. The child continued to poke and pat here and there.

 Too soon the hands withdrew, and the touching stopped. With it, the warmth dissipated. He wondered who they were, and what they wanted with him. Most importantly, he wondered if that warmth would ever return.

His master pulled the pin out, and he blinked, adjusting back to the world. He could still feel the ghosts of the warm hands on his skin. He could also smell the faint, fading scent of the two visitors.

“Good Dog, you behaved yourself well. The father of your future master is pleased with your progress as well.” His master rarely praised him, and the words melted into him, bringing a warm sensation to his chest that he could never quite identify.

He brought the hand that the child shook closer to his face. The scent was warm, kind even, and it held a tone of softness, however he could pick up some loneliness in it as well.

‘His future master,’ he thought wistfully. ‘HIS master….. There was a light at the darkness now.’ He would work extra hard from here on out to be as perfect as possible for that warmth.

The warm hands from his dream lingered on his skin when he woke, contrasting to the cold of the slave building. The faint scent of his future master momentarily replaced the smell of damp brick and heavy air that always hung in the slaves’ outbuilding. It was still very early, he shivered as the wind blew through the bars of the glassless windows.

@whumpsandbumps, @whumperofworlds, @wounds-seen-and-unseen, @pigeonwhumps

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#whump writing #whump community #devros #cw institutionalized slavery #chapter 1 Finally!!

[veritas-scribblings]

welcome - @jegulus-microfic - words: 843

[Exists within the same universe as ‘safe’ and ‘more’]

It’s raining, night-time, when Regulus shows up at the Potter home. A full school term ago, Sirius had been the one standing in his place and since then, their relationship has been broken. Not that they had ever really seen eye-to-eye to begin with, but as far as James knows, Sirius and Regulus have barely spoken. James has been the not-quite-mediator. The neutral middle space. Switzerland. Not passing messages like an owl, but rather, checking in with both boys to ensure their conflict and hadn’t mutated into something worse.

But James has always been Switzerland.

So when Regulus shows up on the Potter’s doorstep, everyone is caught off guard. He has a small bag thrown over his shoulder and the hood of his cape ominously pulled up, giving the impression of a midnight vigilante. It’s James who answers the door and finds Regulus. Wet. Blank-faced. His black curls water-logged and plastered to his forehead like he’s forgotten that Umbrella Charms exist. Sirius stands on the staircase to the left of the entrance hall some distance behind James just staring, speechless. 

‘Regulus,’ James breathes. 

Regulus’s nose is pink from the cold. His cheeks are pink. He has his scarf coiled around his neck, thick and yellow and fluffy. Regulus places his bag by the open front door and simply invites himself inside, barely acknowledging Sirius’s presence.

‘It’s cold,’ he informs them. ‘I’d like a cup of tea.’ He says this firmly, pulling his gloves off and lowering the hood of his robe. Like he is a guest in their home, one who has been invited over, and they are the ones who have dropped the quaffle on basic tenets of hospitality.

Sirius charges down the stairs and stops in front of Regulus. ‘Do mother and father know you’re here?’ he demands. ‘Did they send you after me or something?’

Sirius doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, James knows. He’s wanted Regulus here, was conflicted for months about leaving without telling Regulus, had feared the reaction of their parents. It had kept Sirius up many nights trapped in a tug-of-war between knowing he had to leave and feeling some sort of retrospective responsibility for Regulus now that he was out of Grimmauld Place. 

Regulus shrugs. ‘Possibly, I wouldn’t know,’ he says in a low voice. He tucks the gloves under his arm. ‘So, tea?’

James grins. ‘Tea,’ he repeats, delighted. ‘Come on, mum’s in the kitchen, there’s some chai. She makes it when it’s raining.’ He leads Regulus down the hall and into the kitchen, which smells like roast (it was his father’s turn to cook). 

James knows Regulus loves Yorkshire pudding, knows that Regulus loves crispy roast potatoes slathered in gravy. He knows Regulus hates peas, that Regulus hates cheese sauce, loves crispy Brussel sprouts fried with bacon and parsnip mash.

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter greet Regulus warmly when Regulus sits down at the bench in the kitchen. They’re used this now—boys taking up residence in the Potter Home for Runaways—and have long stopped questioning it since Marlene ‘ran away’ when she was seven. 

James potters around, heats the chai on the stove, grabs a plate to fetch Regulus dinner because the Potters feed people as a form of love language. Sirius floats by the door. He’s trying to determine whether Regulus is staying or whether Regulus has an ulterior motive. Because Sirius is wary of being hurt; it’s a trait that both brothers possess. 

‘You can have the bedroom down the hall from me and Sirius,’ James says. He looks over to his mother for confirmation and she nods. Unlike when Marlene had ‘run away’, she won’t be contacting home. She understands. 

‘Great!’ James chirps. ‘Mum’ll put linens in the room. And sweets on the pillows or something.’ He places the plate and mug of chai in front of Regulus and grins. ‘You know, Dad keeps a potions lab. It’s a small one, but it’s got almost everything. He could show you. Dad, Regulus is a genius at potions, you know.’ At Regulus’s look of scepticism, he adds, ‘Crouch says you could brew an explosive to blow up the school if you wanted to.’

Regulus scoffs, but doesn’t say anything. He looks around and seems to note that Sirius is gone. Pushing the food around his plate, he says, ‘I’m sorry for putting you out,’ because he was evidently raised to have manners. 

‘Nonsense,’ Euphemia says. She crosses the room and places a reassuring hand on Regulus’s shoulder, and then immediately notes how tense Regulus becomes at this and withdraws her hand. ‘We’re glad you’re here. And Sirius is too. Just…give him time.’

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ James says, and he means this from the bottom of his heart. He does. He really does. 

Regulus nods. It’s a placating nod. He still isn’t sure. But that’s okay, James decides, because he’ll do everything he can to make sure Regulus believes it.

#harry potter #fanfiction #myfanfiction #microfics #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #regulus x james #james x regulus #sunseeker #starchaser #myjegulusmicrofics

[milk-tea-sakura]

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓷𝓸 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 '𝔂𝓸𝓾'. 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯!

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 754

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 2 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓼 58 𝓼𝓮𝓬

~~~~~~~~~~

Changbin was known for his rapping skills, fiery passion, and sharp wit. He helped Chan carry the weight of Stray kids on his shoulders, but his heart had remained partially hidden from the world.

That was until he met you. You were a vibrant soul with an infectious smile, you had unwittingly captured Changbin’s heart. You had been friends for months, but Changbin had held back his true feelings for you, unsure of how to approach the situation. However, fate had other plans.

“Hey Changbin! What’s up, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You ask with a bit of excitement in your voice.

Changbin’s heart fluttered at the sound of your voice. He turned around to see your radiant smile. “Hey, I’ve been great. Just prepping for our next comeback. You know how chaotic things get.”

“Yeah, it gets chaotic. My group goes through the same thing.” You reply

Changbin nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Ah, that’s right. You’re an Idol too. I forget about that sometimes. It must be really tough for you though. Juggling promotions, performances, and just keeping up with all the chaos. Especially since people expect more from female groups.”

“You should know just as well as I do by now, we just go with the flow.” You answer

Changbin lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the hallway. “You’re right. We’ve seen our fair share of ups and downs in this industry. Sometimes I wonder how we keep our sanctity intact.”

“Friends and sleep are how I manage to do everything.”

“Ah, sleep. The precious thing we never get enough of,” Changbin replied with a weary yet playful tone. “I rely on it just as much as our fandom relies on our songs. And friends? Well, they’re the real MVPs. They keep us grounded.”

You nod “Hey, how have you been doing with all the chaos? I know sometimes you forget to check in on yourself.” You ask.

Changbin's expression softened at your concern. “Honestly? It’s been a rollercoaster ride, but I try to not let it get to me much. I’ve realized that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of the group. It’s a constant battle, balancing being the strong one everyone depends on and also remembering that I’m human too.” You nod your head in agreement “It’s very important to remember that… Do you have this afternoon off?” 

Changbin looked at his phone to check his schedule. “As a matter of fact, I do have this afternoon off. Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to go somewhere that’s not our place of work to talk with each other, to catch up.” You reply

Changbin’s face lights up with a warm smile. “Sounds perfect! I could use some time away from all the hustle and bustle. So, where would you like to go? Somewhere quiet or someplace with a bit more action?”

“Somewhere quiet, for sure.” You answer.

“Alright then, how about we head to my favorite cafe? It’s a small, cozy place tucked away in a quiet alley. They have the best coffee, and it's perfect for some peaceful conversation.” Changbin suggested with a contented smile.

“Alright, I’m down. I’ll pay unless you want to.” You state feverishly

“I’ll pay! It’ll be my treat, dear.” Changbin replied with a chuckle, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “After all, I wouldn’t dare make such a captivating woman pay for her own refreshments.”

“Dear? Captivating?” You repeat back with a bit of shock.

Changbin chuckled, a hint of bashfulness creeping onto his cheeks. “Ah, you know me. I’ve always had a tendency to say things without filtering them properly. But yeah, you’re captivating, and I mean it. Your energy, your passion, everything about you captivates me.”

“So, you like me?” You ask teasingly

Changbin blushed even more, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. “Don’t tease me. You already know I do. But just to reaffirm, yes, I like you. A lot.”

You pause for a second, “I like you too.” You mumble slightly.

Changbin’s heart skipped a beat as he processed your words. A bashful smile spread across his face, and a light blush dusted on his cheeks. “You do?” He asks softly, a mix of surprise and joy in his voice.

“Mhm, how could I not? You’re a very easy person to fall in love with.” You reply. “Now, can we go get that coffee?”

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids changbin #changbinnie #changbin #straykids x y/n #straykids x you #straykids x reader #straykids #changbin moodboard #changbin fluff #skz x you #skz smut #skz changbin #skz imagines #stray kids smut #changbin smut #bang chan smut