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diorsluv · 4 months

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feather , part 24

“ it feels so good ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by calemakar_, trevorzegras, dylanduke25, and 127,985 others

yourusername i found these in my blackmail album but i promised them i wouldn’t use the pics against them so.. photo dump 🫶🫶

like look at little lukey lookin all cute i couldn’t help but post it for the whole world to see

tagged: trevorzegras, lhughes_06, dylanduke25, colecaufield, jackhughes, jamie.drysdale, calemakar_

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missseraphina puck bunny

username17 i cannot escape that jamie pic

→ username80 why would u ever want to escape 🙄

username24 ok but.. why is the quinn photo lowk cute tho

trevorzegras the first pic of me is ruthless

→ yourusername dogs are out and about

→ trevorzegras SHUT UP

→ yourusername ravaging and rampaging 😘

calemakar_ oh NOW you post me

→ yourusername says the old ass man that never posts me

→ calemakar_ it’s a five year difference. AND ALSO YOU LITERALLY ACTIVELY TALK TO NATE??

→ yourusername actively is a STRONGGG word

→ yourusername we dm like once a week 🙄🙄

→ calemakar_ same thing

→ yourusername but i actually hate you both and i hope you lose against the sharks

username47 cole and cale’s pics 😭😭

colecaufield i’d like to think i look amazing

→ yourusername ofc ofc you ate it up

→ trevorzegras i’d argue differently

jamie.drysdale absolutely foul

→ yourusername you have no one to blame but yourself 🙄

lhughes_06 aw you think i’m cute

→ yourusername lmaooo not anymore

→ lhughes_06 i know you’re lying

→ yourusername oh yes i just think you’re superrr cute and totally irresistible

→ lhughes_06 i’m so glad you were brave enough to admit your true feelings

→ yourusername 😐

→ lhughes_06 😳

jackhughes i knew i shouldn’t have showed you those pics on ft

→ yourusername your fault fr

→ lhughes_06 oh when were u on ft 🤨

→ jackhughes like 4 days a week

→ yourusername jack that’s a gross exaggeration

→ lhughes_06 why not me

→ yourusername didn’t know you were so desperate for my attention moose

→ lhughes_06 well now you know 🙄

→ jackhughes when did i say you could start flirting in my replies

→ yourusername not flirting 😒😒

dylanduke25 THATS ME I MADE IT!!

→ yourusername yes u looked adorable there

→ dylanduke25 😁😁

→ lhughes_06 wb me :( yourusername

→ yourusername no response

markestapa god he’s complaining again what have you done

→ yourusername I BARELY DID ANYTHING

→ mackie.samo clearly you did something

→ yourusername you two are always ganging up on me

username31 jack in the back of that first pic

username97 photo evidence of quinn on the phone w me

username83 quinner’s such a supermodel

_quinnhughes my picture is suprisingly the least embarrassing

→ yourusername oh just you wait 🫢

→ _quinnhughes i take it back

luca.fantilli how adorable, duke and luke dressed like church boys ready to golf

→ lhughes_06 targeted

→ dylanduke25 am i allowed to report this as a hate crime

→ yourusername little cuties 😚😚😚😚

→ luca.fantilli my little baby boys 😝😝😝

→ lhughes_06 stfuuuu

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, luca.fantilli, jamie.drysdale, and 77,156 others

yourusername a little appreciation post for the only person in my life i can simultaneously hate and love (would not recommend getting an older brother)

tagged: jamie.drysdale

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jamie.drysdale would not recommend getting a younger sister

→ yourusername i found out about how you tried to ship me off to australia as soon as i turned 2

→ jamie.drysdale 10/10 would try again

username16 I LOVE THISSSS

_quinnhughes where’s my older brother appreciation post jackhughes lhughes_06

→ jackhughes appreciation posts only happen when the person actually appreciates their older brother

→ lhughes_06 you’ll get it when i get my younger brother appreciation post

→ _quinnhughes ihy jackhughes

trevorzegras is that my favorite drysdale

→ jamie.drysdale yes 😘😘😘😘😘

→ yourusername i’m right here 🙌

username68 okay but this is incredibly sweet

→ username75 yes!! u can see how much they love each other

markestapa i think you should appreciate me n mack too

→ mackie.samo FRRR

→ yourusername well i do appreciate you guys i would just hate my life if either of you were my brother 🤗

→ jamie.drysdale stop trying to steal my sister

→ _alexturcotte and my honorary sister

→ jackhughes and my soon-to-be sister

→ rutgermcgroarty HUHHHH?? jackhughes

luca.fantilli waiting for my older brother appreciation post adamfantilli

→ adamfantilli stay waiting

username25 drysdale siblings 🔛🔝

username11 whatever would we do if they weren’t siblings

→ username83 luke would be lonely for the rest of his life

colecaufield theoretically what would happen if i replaced jamie

→ yourusername you would get married to trevor

→ colecaufield hell no

→ trevorzegras I WOULD BE A GREAT HUSBAND

→ yourusername HIGHLY debatable

_alexturcotte is my appreciation post happening soon

→ yourusername u dont even need a post i appreciate you all the time 🥰🥰

→ jamie.drysdale ok this is starting to get unfair

→ _alexturcotte i’m just better 🤣

lhughes_06 cute

→ markestapa loser

→ trevorzegras weak

→ yourusername ur cute too luke

→ _quinnhughes oh please

→ dylanduke25 embarrassing

→ edwards.73 you can do better

→ jackhughes moosey this is lame

→ mackie.samo oh luke…

→ adamfantilli is this supposed to be flirting

→ colecaufield this is so sad

→ luca.fantilli wtf is this

→ missseraphina thanks for the compliment 🤭

→ jamie.drysdale hey now this is still my baby sis

→ rutgermcgroarty even i could do better than that

→ _alexturcotte lmao

username72 yall i think luke blocked that seraphina girl LMFAOAOAO

→ username5 i think they all blocked her 😭

→ username5 besides drizz bc she thinks it’s funny

lhughes_06 and also now that you’ve had your sibling time with jamie, imy and u need to come back to the lake house rn

→ yourusername yeah yeah i’m already omw back 🙄

next chapter notes ) a filler chap with dryshughes crumbs and seraphina’s delulu antics 🤍🤍 we are inching our way closer to the finish line!!

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust

#luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #cole caufield #jamie drysdale #ethan edwards #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich #mark estapa #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli #adam fantilli

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ticklinglady · 1 year

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The Guild's actions during the story are so insane, when you think about them properly, you know? When I first read the arc with them, this moment hasn't really occurred to me, as I was too busy going nuts over finally seeing the names of the familiar writers, but now when I think of that... I am not sure, I comprehend how they managed to achieve such a ferocious reputation. I have already made a little post about how extremely dysfunctional the DOA members are, but at least those guys have a plan, which actually makes sense more or less, even despite the gang using cheatcodes/the Book. The same cannot be said of the Guild however archghhjkn. Like, what the hell were these guys even doing??? XD

So here are just some moments, which weirded me out the most

At first I'd like to address the entire story with everyone's favorite tsundere, Lucy Maud Montgomery. Her introduction leaves quuuuite an impression in the best way and nothing makes me happier than the fact, that she gets a chance to find happiness in the following chapters and actually becomes a reoccurring character! HOWEVER, her entire involvement with the Guild is super odd... I still can't wrap my head around her getting fired. She is a girl with a hella powerful ability, who got taken to the Guild from a terrible, terrible orphanage in order to fight for them in the war for the Book, so not only is she very strong, but she's also immensely dependant on the organisation and wouldn't do anything outside of its interests. Yet Lucy is also put under extreme pressure. As she herself puts it, the Guild doesn't tolerate failures and will kick her out the moment she screws something up.

Later we see that this is exactly what happens, when she messes up her first mission. Fitzgerald himself confirms that, since she failed and revealed her ability to the enemies, she's no longer useful, so now a powerful esper, like Lucy works for free as a... laundress?

EXCUSE ME??? WHEN HAVE THE GUILD MEMBERS EVER DONE ANYTHING, BUT FAIL AND REVEAL THEIR ABILITIES?

Let's be real, these dudes were successful like only once or twice...

This fact not only makes Fitzgerald look like an idiot for wasting such a talented and useful worker, because of one mistake, but also as one hell of a hypocrite, cause he is more than fine with everyone else fucking up. And in case of Lovecraft and Steinbeck: fucking up twice. To add to the oddity, we later learn, that Louisa genuinely cares for Lucy and despite her social anxiety actually stood up for her during the entire story, but even that wasn't enough to change Fitzgerald's mind on the issue, though Louisa is one of the few people, whose opinion he respects. Honestly, this is such a waste of a truly useful subordinate. And speaking of which....

The Guild has never even tried to implement Edgar Allan Poe during the war...

This man is actually rather op when you think of it. He can capture and neutralise literally any ability user in Yokohama (besides Dazai, Mori and Ranpo ofc) just by throwing a book at them. Seriously, as we see with Chuuya, they don't even have to read it, they just need to see the pages. Plus the book can be actually sent via email!!! So why has there been an absolute zero amount of strategies with the use of this ability??? They could actually try to catch Atsushi by sending him such email containing any of Poe's mystery stories and then safely carry him back to their base. And it doesn't have to be just Atsushi, it could be literally any of their enemies. Non-combatant, like Ranpo could use this pretty damn well to his advantage and it doesn't take a genius to understand the potential of the "Black Cat in Rue Morgue". But nooooo, it seems like everyone has just forgotten of Poe!!! (Tho to be honest, I can actually see this situation in a funny extra awfgbfggfjj. Not the main story however) The agency would never even learn of his existence, if he didn't personally decide to try to fuck Ranpo's life up. Like, what does Poe even do in the Guild? He's the master architect and, according to him, the third ranking man in the organization, but we never see him be of any use, so Idk. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Lucy at least got to do something, unlike this poor man.

Then there's the entire drama with the Guild's decision to destroy Yokohama. Where do I even begin...

First of all, Fitzgerald has no way of knowing that Atsushi is going to come to Moby-Dick to fight him. Poor guy is the Guild's primary goal and has already gotten himself captured once, so it would have been safe to assume that the ADA decided to hide him somewhere and not send him on any dangerous missions for the time being. That basically means Fitzgerald could have burned down not just Yokohama, but also the only person, who could actually help him find his precious Book.

But if we're to ignore this, let's also go with Wikipedia then~

"Yokohama is the second-largest city in Japan by population and the most populous municipality of Japan. It is the capital city and the most populous city in Kanagawa Prefecture, with a 2020 population of 3.8 million. It lies on Tokyo Bay, south of Tokyo, in the Kantō region of the main island of Honshu. Yokohama is also the major economic, cultural, and commercial hub of the Greater Tokyo Area along the Keihin Industrial Zone."

..........................

Good luck making up for the destruction of THIS, Fitzgerald 🖕

And if this in itself wasn't bad enough, most people, including me, tend to forget that all Guild members are actually big shots in the American government, which I think is very sad. Because first of all, can you imagine any of the Guild members actually working as politicians?!! The sheer idea makes me hysterical avshbgj. Like, just consider Lovecraft working as a senator or something. This eldritch horror of a man leaves the ocean once in three years at best LMAO. Second of all, I have a feeling, that the destruction of Yokohama at the hands of influential politicians from a foreign country would have resulted in an international conflict or two~ Like as if random deranged rich Americans arriving in Japan, wreaking havoc over there and destroying the second largest city in the country wasn't bad enough, these Americans just HAD to be super influential businessmen and politicians. Louisa, my dear, I understand that it wasn't your intention, but it's as close to a declaration of war as it can get, you know? Fitzgerald may be ready to do anything to resurrect his dead daughter, but I'm not sure, that the execution of himself and the rest of the Guild at the hands of the Hunting Dogs is something he'd like.

(And here's another funny thing that stems from them being politicians 🤭 As @originalartblog wittily pointed out, Fitzgerald wasting all his money fighting sskk has probably resulted in a market crash and recession over in the USA)

I also have some other questions in regards to this entire plan, such as why did they have to waste Moby-Dick just to destroy Yokohama? Yes, it works in the short term, but in the long term they loose a super powerful fortress with the stealth mode and as the practice shows, you better have a safe base, unless you want another lemon freak to blow it all up. I mean, you could just ask Lovecraft to destroy everything for free. Or, if the device is the only way to stop the giant whale from crashing, why didn't Fitzgerald just take it to a far away bunker or something and waited things out there without the need to spend millions of dollars just to survive the explosion? (And it would have been extremely funny, if during the fight with sskk he just threw the device overboard) But I think I have already rambled for long enough already atxhghbgv XD

The Guild is an even bigger mess than the DOA and I think that's glorious 🙌

#the guys stole mafia's building once just to show off and nobody has ever brought it up again #if that's not a true definition of hilarious I don’t know what is 🤭#bsd fitzgerald #bsd lucy #bsd louisa #bsd poe #bsd lovecraft #bsd guild #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd meta #sort of #bsd francis #bsd spoilers #ticklinglady talks

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keiksy-cake · 7 months

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Hetalia Collezione: America's pg 2

Tl;Dr: use this link for all my collezione tls so far!

Hi everyone, I've been thinking to upload my collezione tls to MangaDex (I've already uploaded "chapter 0"!) As you know, a lot of my early work is a bit unreliable, and most of my work is generally inconsistent haha. So because I wanna make sure my stuff is good quality before it gets auto reposted elsewhere out of my control, I hope to re-do a lot of said early work to improve, correct, and standardize everything as best I can. I've already done a few pages, and thank God I saved the vast majority of my cleans too haha. It also means I wanna try to finish the missing pages in order so I can upload chapters as a whole, hence why I finally have America's second page. (I'll still also work on the poll thing tho!)

I've also been meaning to have all my collezione tls available in one place, and bc I was unable to edit my previous post that I said would have "all" the tls far, and bc tumblr just recently made it impossible to upload more than 30 or smth pgs at once (I used a loophole before haha); I decided to make a google doc! You can add it to your drive, dl it as a pdf, make a copy, idc; but the link should be available to everyone and I'll be able to edit it in the future with new tled pgs and new version pgs! It's ofc in the link above, PLEASE lmk if it doesn't work for you! The first page btw is just a long disclaimer bc I always write too much haha.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia collezione #aph america #I'm still busy af tho I really should focus on my hw that's been piling up but I spent the whole day organizing all of this haha #but anyway idk how long this'll all take me hopefully I can at least upload the whole of chapter 1 soon...#half the day went into just this one page please appreciate how much effort I put into cleaning #even though you can barely tell bc of how it always just gets covered up by text anyway...

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 7

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, bit of smut.

Word Count: 4,813

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Chapter 7 has arrived. 😊 I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging this series! It means SO much! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Three and a half weeks later

“And these would be beside every tent?” Dean asked Brandy as he looked at the rough drawings she’d made of her latest idea.

She nodded. “Yeah, on the West side of every tent. It would mean families don’t have to come to Food Storage every few days for more rations, and once the deep snow comes that’s gonna be a huge benefit for folks. Plus it’s easier for people to plan ahead and stretch their food if they have two weeks worth of rations sitting outside their tent. I mean, it won’t work once spring comes, but that’s a problem for spring.”

Dean nodded. He looked at their builders, the group of half a dozen survivors that were tasked with providing new buildings and necessities as the camp required. They’d built the sheds earlier in the year, the chicken coop last summer and were currently finishing up a small barn for the cow.

“Is this gonna interfere with completing the barn?” He asked, nodding at Brandy’s drawings.

One of the women, he was pretty sure her name was Vanessa, shook her head. “No, we’ll be finished with the barn in a couple of days, and be able to get Lily settled for the winter all snug, and then move on to the food sheds.” She looked at the drawing again and shrugged. “They’re small enough that we should be able to get them all done within a few weeks?”

She looked to the rest of the builders who nodded their agreement.

Dean frowned. “Lily?”

Vanessa grinned. “Yeah, sorry that’s what the kids have dubbed our little cow. Y/N has them going to visit her once a week so Ralph can teach them about farming.” She said, referring to the old farmer who had helped to plant the winter vegetables.

Dean felt his stomach twist as it always did when someone brought up her name. But he just nodded. “Okay, good. Get started on the food sheds as soon as you’re able. The deep snow is gonna come in the next couple weeks. It’d be good to have them all done by then.”

They all gave a chorus of “Okay, Boss” or “Sure thing Boss” as they nodded and took their leave. They wrapped their scarves tight and pulled on their mittens. The deep snow may not have come yet, but the ground was layered in white, and winter was sharp and stinging in the late November air.

Brandy gathered up her drawings and was headed out when Dean called her back.

“Brandy?”

She turned back to him, an eyebrow raised in question. They'd never discussed their meeting in the cabin with Y/N, but he'd noticed a slightly colder demeanor from her lately.

And he knew why, of course.

Brandy had been one of the original dozen survivors who had built the camp together. She'd been an incredible asset from the beginning, and they probably wouldn't have survived without her planning and strategies for running the camp. He and the soldiers may have kept the survivors alive, but Brandy kept them living by organizing and planning for their food and shelter. She was an invaluable member of the camp.

But three weeks ago he'd treated her like a servant meant to do his bidding. He knew he owed her an apology, but it had been so long since he'd apologized for anything that it stuck in his throat.

Now she contemplated him, waiting for him to speak, and he just nodded. He pointed towards her drawings.

“This is a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “So, thanks.”

Brandy stared a moment longer before a small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She nodded.

“No problem, Boss. That's what we're all here for, right?”

Dean just nodded and she lifted her scarf over her face and left the big cabin where Dean conducted most of his business these days, since it was warmer than his tent and could fit more people.

As he ran a hand over his face, the door opened again and most of his soldiers tromped inside. They were there to talk about security and possible threats, but Dean immediately looked at Johnston.

“Hey, did you tell her I want to see her?”

The thin man nodded vigorously. “Yes sir. I told her yesterday. Has…has she not come to see you yet?” He looked around the room as though Y/N might be hiding somewhere.

Dean shook his head. “No, she hasn't.” He pointed towards the door. “So why don't you go get her and tell her I expect to see her now.”

Johnston looked wary and as though he definitely didn't want to follow that order. But when Dean just stared him down, he turned and left quickly.

The rest of his soldiers began giving their reports about any problems they were having at the outposts, like equipment that needed repair or items that needed replenishing. But Dean was only half listening; his gaze kept straying to the door, waiting for Y/N to show.

Ten minutes later, Patrick was briefing him and Dean tried to focus on what he was saying.

“Williams has seen the group twice now, but -” Patrick cut himself off as Y/N and Johnston pushed through the door.

Y/N smiled at the soldiers as she came in. “Sorry to interrupt, but apparently I was summoned.”

She cut her glance to Dean and her smile turned brittle.

“I was told you needed to see me.”

“Yeah, since yesterday.” Dean responded, hardening his voice in an attempt to not seem desperate, especially in front of his soldiers.

“Sorry. Busy.” Was Y/N's curt reply. “What do you need?”

Dean took a deep breath. “I just wanted to know how you're -” he altered his words, “your school, or, uh, the school was going?”

Y/N paused for a moment before answering with a shrug.

“Fine.”

When it was clear that was all she was going to say, Dean scowled at her. “You wanna elaborate on that?”

She raised her chin a fraction. “Oh, I'm sorry, Boss, I don’t have anything else to say right now, but I’ll be sure to write out a full report for next week.”

Her eyes shot daggers that found their mark, bringing a pain to his chest that he felt a lot these days. He’d thought it might go away if he could talk to her, see her, but it was just worse with her there.

He shook his head. “That won't be necessary.” He said quietly.

“Anything else then, Sir?”

He'd never hated that moniker more. “No, that's it.”

She spun on her heel and walked out of the cabin. Silence reigned when she left. Dean waved at everyone else. “We'll finish this another time.” When they didn't immediately move, he made his voice a bit sharper.

“Dismissed.”

That got them moving and they all shuffled their way out the door - all except Risa. She closed the door behind her fellow soldiers and then turned back to face Dean.

He caught her eye and lifted his hands. “What?”

She shook her head slowly. “You're such an idiot.”

Dean dropped his hands and raised an eyebrow. “Wanna try that again?”

Risa shook her head as she walked back to him. “No, I said what I said.”

Dean gave her a look of annoyance as she reached him and leaned one hip on the table where he stood. She raised her hand to his cheek, her countenance softening.

“I really wanted to be the one.”

Dean scowled in confusion. “The one what?”

Risa pushed her fingers through his short hair. “The one to make you smile.” There was a long pause between them and Dean had no idea how to respond to that. She shook her head and stood up straight, dropping her hand. “But, it was obviously meant to be her.”

Dean scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You know I'm talking about Y/N.”

He gave a short burst of sarcastic, humorless laughter. “Yeah, right. You think Y/N's gonna make me smile? I've done nothing but pull my hair out since she got here, so ..” He trailed off and looked away from Risa's knowing gaze.

Risa nodded. “Yeah, cause you're an idiot.” She reiterated.

When he looked back at her, Risa was smiling softly and wistfully. “Apologize to her, idiot. Try to get back what you've nearly lost. She's pissed, don't get me wrong, it might take some real groveling on your part but,” she nodded, “she has a very kind heart, so she might forgive you. It's definitely worth a try.”

Dean stared at her for a moment before he looked down at the ground, conceding the truth in her words. “I don't know how to do it.”

Risa gave a gentle laugh. “You're a smart guy. Bet you'll figure it out.”

She put her hand on his cheek again, resting the other on his chest as she stood on tiptoe to reach his lips. She placed a light, lingering kiss there and then pulled away.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean felt a jolt of worry at the farewell. “You’re leaving? Am I losing a soldier?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, the soldier is staying. I'm saying goodbye to the woman I wanted to be for you. And the man that she…cared about a lot. I hope he lets himself be happy.”

Dean frowned, feeling the weight of her goodbye, with all of its disappointed hopes.

“Goodbye Risa.” He said, and knowing it wasn't enough, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her lips, light and brief. “Thank you…for being the woman you are.”

He thought he saw a glimmer of moisture in her eye, but she blinked it away quickly and pulled out from under his hands. She moved to the door in a few strides and, with one last smile thrown over her shoulder, she walked away.

***

That afternoon as the winter sun headed into the west, Dean made the decision to go talk to Y/N. This was ridiculous. They were a camp of less than 150 people, continuing to try and avoid each other was impractical.

He'd just go tell her that.

He walked to the school because she was usually still there this time of day. But when he got there, the schoolroom was empty. He looked around the space that he hadn't seen in over a month and had to shake his head.

What had been a cold empty shed not even three months ago was now a warm, inviting, cozy space. She'd had a little camp stove installed, and on the Northern wall, replacing the fall leaves that had been there, was a giant, beautifully sewn quilt. He recognized it as the same design as the one that hung in the big cabin.

Hannah, who was Ralph-the-farmer's wife, had made it out of old scraps of material. It took a long time to gather enough scraps for a whole quilt so he knew this quilt probably took her months of hard work. But of course she'd gifted it to Y/N and the school. That's what Y/N brought out in people - hard work and generosity.

The small wooden table in the room had four chairs around it now and he wondered where she'd snagged the other two chairs.

The kids’ blanket seating had been enhanced slightly with the addition of a few pillows, and on the western wall, beside the old map, two long, weathered planks of wood had been nailed in place to serve as bookshelves. The books he'd brought back had been placed lovingly on the shelves, not a single corner bent on any of them.

He sighed at the changes and felt a warmth flare to life in his heart. Y/N did this too - seeming to warm the spaces around her without trying.

He walked out of the schoolroom and was just starting to walk back to his tent when he heard high pitched giggles coming from the side of the school just seconds before three small bodies hurtled forward, chasing and grabbing on to one another - Emma and her two little friends. He couldn't remember their names.

When they all saw him, the laughter fell away and Emma's eyes got wide, fear and suspicion filling them instantly. It felt like a punch when he remembered the way she'd climbed up on the chair beside him that one time, shy acceptance in her expression as she asked him to read to her.

He hated that she was so scared of him; he had to try and fix that much, at least.

“Hi girls.” He said in what he hoped was a friendly sounding voice. Emma's friends nodded and waved at him slightly. But Emma stayed on high alert.

He looked at her two friends. “I need to talk to Emma, so you girls head on home now.”

They looked to Emma who looked more scared than ever. But she whispered goodbye to them and they ran off.

Dean got a bit closer to her and went down on his haunches. He took a second to think what to say to her.

“You know, you don't have to be scared of me.”

“I'm not.” Emma said quickly while her big blue eyes were shrouded in fear.

Dean nodded. “Okay, good because…” He struggled to find the words that would help. “Cause I thought maybe I scared you a bit before. When I, uh, needed to talk to your mom alone.”

Emma nodded, the suspicion growing in her gaze. “When you were mad at Mommy.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I wasn't mad.”

Emma gave him a look that said she didn't believe him and he conceded with a nod.

“Okay, I was a little…upset, but I was just…confused. Eventually everything got figured out.”

She didn't say anything, clearly still highly skeptical.

Dean took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. “Anyway, I didn't mean to scare you and I'm…sorry about it.” He cleared his throat. “And I promise not to scare you like that again. Okay?”

Emma stared at him for a long time and he kept hold of her earnest blue gaze throughout her scrutiny. Slowly a smile spread across her face.

“Okay.” She said, accepting him at his word. “Then can you come over again for supper tonight? I can read a bunch of words now, mommy taught me in the books. So, I could help you read the story this time.”

Dean shook his head at the speedy ways of forgiveness in a child's heart, and for the first time in more years than he could remember, a small smile turned up one side of his mouth.

He reached out to pat her cold cheek. “I'm not sure, kiddo. We'll have to wait and see.” Emma was about to argue the point but Dean stood up. “Now it's gonna be dark soon and it's way too cold for you to be out here without a scarf. Don't you have one?” He asked.

Emma nodded. “Yeah, but I don't like it. It itches.”

Dean hummed. “Ah, yeah wool does that sometimes.” He unwound his own scarf from around his neck.

“Here, I'll trade you.” He said as he wound the polyester scarf around her neck and up over her cheeks. “Now, you head home.”

Emma's eyes were bright and happy above her new scarf as she danced away, skipping through the light snow that blanketed the ground.

He watched her go for a moment before turning back to head home himself. But he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Y/N standing in the path with an arm full of wood. Silence reigned for nearly a full minute. Finally he reached forward to take the wood, but Y/N shook her head.

“No, I’m fine.” She nodded toward the school. “Just stocking up for tomorrow.”

“Right.”

More silence. Y/N’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke. “Thank you for the scarf. It’s been impossible to get her to wear one.”

He nodded and then realized something. “How long were you standing there?”

Y/N took a deep breath, answering on an exhale. “Since just before you promised my daughter not to scare the shit out of her again.”

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. “So, basically the whole time.”

“Yeah, basically.” She took a beat pause. “Thank you for that.”

Dean nodded. She walked towards the school again but before she could close the door and shut him out, Dean called to her, knowing his voice sounded desperate.

“I needed to believe it.”

Y/N turned in the doorway, a frown on her face. “Needed to believe what?”

He took a step closer, feeling choked by all the words he wanted to say that wouldn’t form properly in his mind. Y/N stared at him for a moment more before huffing slightly and walking into the schoolroom. He followed her inside, closing the door against the wind as she dropped the pile of wood into a metal bucket by the stove.

When she turned back to face him, she was scowling. “Dean, I don’t know what you want here. What do you want me to say?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want her to say anything. He wanted to say things, so many things. “No, nothing.” He croaked out.

She crossed her arms over her chest, bunching up her too big jacket. “Then what are you doing here?”

He took deep breaths in through his nose, pushing the words out through a closed throat. “I needed to believe it.” He said again, quieter this time.

“Believe what?” Y/N asked in frustration.

He stepped close to her and she took a step back before refusing to retreat. He gazed at her and wished more than anything that she really could just see inside his head so he wouldn’t have to try and get it out.

But he looked at the ground quickly and then back at her. His breathing was slightly labored and his voice was thin as he spoke. “You’re so dangerous to me, Y/N.”

He knew he said the wrong words when her forehead wrinkled into a deep frown and she nodded. “Because - I’m a psychic monster? Or because I’m a croat? Why exactly am I dangerous this time?”

“Because you’re you.” Dean answered loudly, speaking over the end of her question. He sighed in frustration; he was getting all of this wrong. He looked up to the heavens, as though they could possibly help him, and tried again, speaking softer.

“I needed to believe that you could control my mind or my…my feelings because…” He trailed off and looked at Y/N hoping she’d just know what he was saying and finish the sentence for him. But she was still just frowning in confusion.

“Because,” he continued, “my feelings when I'm around you are…dangerous. For me, I mean, they’re dangerous. Y/N I can’t…” He shook his head. “The way you look at the world? And the way you change how I see it too? It’s so fucking dangerous.”

He waved his hand, trying to encompass everything. “This world is ugly and shitty, and fucking ended! We literally lived through the end of the world, and now all that’s left is this - this dark, violent, bullshit reality.”

He shook his head and his voice was filled with awe. “Yet somehow you move through it like this,” again he struggled for the words to describe her, “like some kind of lighthouse, like a refuge for every cold, lost thing. And I - “

He cut himself off, not sure he was making any sense. But Y/N had stopped frowning and was now just contemplating him.

He shrugged. “And when I’m around you, I feel warmer than I’ve felt in years, brighter.” He shook his head and moved away from her, embarrassed by his confession and knowing he wasn't saying it right.

He stared at the map as he spoke. “So, I needed to believe that the feelings weren’t real, that you’d just forced me to feel that way. Because if the feelings and thoughts you bring out of me are real?” His shoulders slumped. “God, I’m so fucked.”

He felt Y/N come up to stand just behind him on his right, but he stayed staring at the map as she spoke.

“Why? What’s so dangerous about warmth and light?”

His voice was barely audible as he answered slowly. “Because they bring hope. And hope is a lie. It’s a lie I believed for a long time, a lie I clung to. The lie of possibilities, of family, of good conquering evil. And when the lie was revealed and the world fell apart, the truth almost killed me.”

After a moment he turned to face her and felt his heart skip as he saw her expression of sadness and the tears that sparkled in her eyes, even in the growing dusk.

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and thumbed away a tear as it fell over her bottom lashes. “And Y/N, if I allow myself to hope again, and it gets crushed by the world again…” He shook his head. “I won’t survive it, I know I won’t.”

He took a step closer to her and felt her warmth penetrating his cold bones. She grabbed his free hand and held it in both of hers as he dropped his other hand from her cheek.

“Or…” she said, her voice filled with conviction, “or we can both hope, both fight, and both win. Even if we never get big wins, the little ones still count. And they add up. Every day we’re here alive is a win. Every time we smile at someone and they smile back is a win. Every time the sun shines so bright you have to close your eyes, every time we hear Emma giggle, every time our stomachs are full, every time we do something to make our home here better - every small thing adds up to big wins.”

Dean shook his head. He knew that trying to resist the pull of her light and life was pointless; she’d been pulling him out of the dark, and changing his plans since the moment she’d come into his life.

He used their connected hands to pull her tight against him and watched heat enter her beautiful, red-ringed eyes.

He bent his head, but before his lips touched hers, he whispered words that came much easier now. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. For all of it. I’m so sorry.”

Another tear fell down her cheek and she smiled and bit her lip. “If I say you’re forgiven will you kiss me?”

He pretended to mull it over and then nodded. “Yes, I think that’s fair.”

In the dusky twilight around them he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers; his arms tightened around her as she moaned softly.

He was definitely counting that sound as a win.

***

Over the next month Dean resumed his dinners with Y/N, the difference being that he was there nearly every night, and he’d stopped pretending to himself that he didn’t relish every moment with her and Emma.

Over the evenings spent together, Emma had warmed more and more to him so that now she ran to meet him every time he walked through their tent flap, holding her arms up so he’d pick her up and toss her up into the air, catching her in a swooping motion as she came down. It made Y/N gasp every time, but Emma squealed with delight. He’d set her down and she’d grab his hand, nearly three times the size of hers, and pull him over to the table.

He’d take off his heavy canvas jacket within the relative warmth of the tent, and drape it over Emma’s shoulders, making her giggle as she drowned inside it.

They’d sit around the table and share the day's events, though Emma usually did the majority of the talking. It always brought a mixture of feelings when he listened to her bubbly, excited stories. It made him happy and terrified at the same time. She was so precious he couldn’t help but smile, an expression that was becoming easier for him as the days went by. But also, his chest felt tight and he could feel terror creep in as the darkness whispered a warning, telling him that he couldn’t possibly keep her safe. He’d lose her, and Y/N too.

Sometimes that thought woke him from a deep sleep and made him shake and sweat. It was proving incredibly difficult to make all his fears go away. But as soon as he saw Y/N’s smile the next day, it felt easier.

In fact it was becoming increasingly difficult to go home at all, to leave her warm cozy tent and return to his dismal gray one. But they were trying to be careful and move slowly in deference to Emma. They didn’t want her to feel confused or unsure of things now that she finally seemed so at ease.

So they hid their kisses and their caresses until after Emma was sleeping, at which point they’d usually try and brave the cold long enough to enjoy some alone time, even if it was encumbered by bulky jackets and scarves. They never had enough time, but they’d managed slightly more satisfactory make out sessions in the empty school and in Dean’s tent. But they were always too rushed and things had to end too quickly.

Dean ached for her more and more every day.

One evening in mid December, the air was much milder than usual; the day had been unseasonably warm and the night held on to a trace of it. Dean had Y/N pressed up against the side of the thick canvas tent, sucking on the soft skin just below her ear. As her breath caught and she angled her head so that he had better access, he was practically vibrating with how badly he needed to feel her.

As he breathed into her mouth, he slowly unzipped her jeans, letting her tell him no if she wanted. But she just nodded and bit her lip.

He watched her face as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of the leggings she wore as an extra layer against the cold, and then down into her panties. He desperately tried to stifle the moan that wanted to escape as he felt how soaking wet she was for him.

“Goddamn.” He whispered roughly as he slid two fingers inside her, rubbing his thumb against her little bundle of nerves and making her bite harder into her lip to keep quiet. He decided to help her out and closed his mouth over hers, swallowing up her small moans.

He pushed in and out of her body, his cock hardening as she gripped his forearm where it disappeared into her pants while her cunt clenched tight around his fingers. He passed his fingers over her sweet spot a couple of times and she fell over the edge. She broke off their kiss to bury a scream in his neck, muffling it with his thick collar.

As she came down she clung to him, her hot breaths creating puffs of white in the cold air. She moved her hand to cup his hard on through his jeans and was just reaching for his zipper when they suddenly heard Cas’ voice inside the tent.

“Emma, where is your mother and Dean?”

Dean groaned. What the fuck? Y/N squeaked slightly and pulled her hand back, making him absolutely throb with need. He was gonna slaughter his best friend.

They were quickly righting their clothing when Emma's voice reached them, and it didn’t really sound like she’d been sleeping.

“They’re outside the tent, kissing each other.”

Y/N’s eyes got huge and round and Dean stifled a snorted laugh behind his palm while she slapped his bicep.

“It’s not funny. Jesus, we’re gonna traumatize her!” She said in a horrified whisper.

Suddenly Cas’ head poked around the side of the tent and he frowned. “Are you finished kissing?”

Y/N buried her head in Dean’s chest and Dean scowled at the angel. “Well, we sure as hell are now.”

Cas nodded, completely ignoring Dean’s frustration. “Good. You need to come inside. I have incredible news.”

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. “What news, Cas?”

The angel’s smile was surprising in its rarity and it made Dean raise an eyebrow.

“I know why Y/N isn’t a psychic.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean series #endverse!dean fan fiction #dean winchester #dean x reader

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visforvengeance · 3 months

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as it was (carmen berzatto x reader)

How do you let go of someone you once loved so dearly? Someone you spent every waking moment with, who loved you just as much as you loved them? Carmen never meant for this to happen. He hated himself for fucking up something that others could only dream of. If he ever regretted anything, it was not fighting for you harder.

You weren’t just some girl he became close friends with, you were all of that and more. If he believed in god, he’d be praying for one more chance with you, to do things differently. He loved you. More than life, more than anything.

He stands in this empty restaurant that he’s worked so hard for, his life is practically perfect. Except there’s no you. He should be happy but all he feels is emptiness. He’s gone and fucked it all. As cheesy as it may sound, you were the one that got away.

Warnings: cursing ofc, angst, no happy ending, whatever the hell donna has done to her kids, grief, death of a family member (mentioned), claire slander, cheating, eventual smut (hell yeah). i believe that's it lmao. if I've missed anything, I'm so sorry. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

{in progress}

Chapter 1

Chapter 2, 2.5

if you'd like to be tagged comment on this post or send me a message<3

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear

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emmitaaa4 · 3 months

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Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies

Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.

I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.

A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.

This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).

Anyways.

I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.

All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.

All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:

(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)

and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.

The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.

Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.

---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺

---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.

#please be so for real rn #elain archeron #anti gwynriel #anti nonsense #acotar 5 #elriel #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel #sjm interview #azriel bonus chapter #nesta archeron #elucien

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sixhours · 1 month

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One Day at a Time - Chapter 4 - Gestation

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

He’s browsing at the trading post when he sees Charlie again. He’s checked off 14 more days in his little calendar, and each time he picks up the pen, it stirs a bittersweet feeling of anticipation and sheer terror in his gut.

He’s picking over the trades, looking for new sneakers for Ellie, when his eyes fall on something else.

Footed pajamas, impossibly tiny, the little plastic price tag still clipped to the sleeve. His hand drifts over the yellow fabric, faded but minky soft. Warm. Good for winter.

Sarah had pajamas like this once…a sleep suit with a hood and little round ears peeking up from the top. He hasn’t thought about that outfit in…well, decades. The memory of her toddling toward him with those silly little ears poking up from her downy head is so vivid that he can almost hear her trill of laughter and he has to lean on the table to catch his breath, the yellow onesie still clutched in his hand.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Charlie’s voice comes from over his shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and he turns around.

“Yeah…yeah just, uh…yeah, m’fine. What’re you doin’ here?”

He hides the pajamas behind him, balling them up in one large fist.

She holds up a white package. “Heard they had TP. Figured I’d better get down here and snag a roll before it was all gone. You?”

“Lookin’ for stuff for Ellie.”

“Find anything good?”

“She won’t think so.”

Charlie smirks. “Teenagers, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, shoving the onesie deep into his bag and making for the counter. He drops off a sack of old clothes into the donation bin, all the stuff Ellie has outgrown, and watches as Charlie does the same with her trades.

They find themselves outside, the warmth of late spring making everything smell fresh and green. Charlie’s button-down shirt floats over her jeans in such a way as to hide her midsection, but her proportions have changed. Her face is fuller, her breasts are swollen, and her skin looks so soft and smooth and—

He coughs and looks away, feeling a brief wash of shame for noticing her. Again.

“So you’re, uh…still…”

“Yeah…I’m still,” she says.

“That’s good,” he says, and means it. “Feelin’ okay?”

She shrugs. “A little tired…but yeah. I feel better. So far, so good, I guess.”

He nods thoughtfully and bites his lip, thinking of the calendar next to his bed. He can almost hear the days falling away.

“Look, I…uh…I shoulda said somethin’ before now. I…know I haven’t been the most…uh…I’m not trying to get out of…anything.”

She blinks up at him, brow furrowed, waiting for him to make sense. He winces, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I wanna help,” he tries again. “However I can. I know it’s not easy goin’ it alone,” he says, looking down at the bag with Ellie’s clothes and the onesie tucked at the bottom. Then he’s thinking of Sarah, of long nights spent pacing and rocking and soothing.

“You’ve done enough.”

“Oh,” he chokes out. “Uh, I, uh…s’pose I deserve that.”

Her eyes widen, cheeks turning a faint pink. Now it’s her turn to fumble her words.

“Oh…I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…you’ve been good. You’ve helped. I–shit. I’m sorry.”

There’s a painfully awkward silence as this sinks in and he bites back a smirk.

“We’re pretty fuckin’ bad at this, huh?”

“Yes,” she sighs. “We are.”

This admission seems to ease something between them. Before he can lose his nerve, he continues.

“Could I come to your next appointment? Is that somethin’ people still do?”

She nods slowly, considering this. “I have one next week. It’s not very exciting, but…you could come with me.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m not sure you will,” she says. “The midwife is…intense.”

“I’ve heard,” he says. “I think I can handle it.”

~*~

He can’t handle it.

The midwife, Joanie, is cold and abrupt and downright abrasive. He can’t imagine this person welcoming anyone, let alone his future child, into the world. He wants to put his arm around Charlie, turn her around, and tell her they’ll find someone else.

But he can’t. Jackson has one midwife. And the town doctor is a 76-year-old man who “doesn’t do babies”.

The woman is dressed in a long, flowing caftan, gray hair pulled neatly into a braid down her back. She looks like a hippie but her eyes are sharp, and her tongue is sharper.

“You brought the boyfriend this time,” she says as Charlie settles on the makeshift exam bed, a chaise lounge with a sheet draped over it. Joel can’t help but notice that Charlie doesn’t bother correcting her.

“You can sit,” Joanie says to him, gesturing to the chair next to the chaise. When he doesn’t move, she throws her hands up. “Or keep hovering. Whatever.”

Joel crosses his arms and barely restrains a snarl. Charlie shoots him a look as she slides her unbuttoned jeans down to her hips.

I told you.

The woman performs a cursory physical exam in silence. It’s obvious they’ve done this routine several times, and neither seems to feel the need to explain it to Joel.

The midwife is frowning, digging into Charlie’s belly with pointed, demanding fingers, feeling around until Charlie winces. Joel clenches a fist at his side, resisting the urge to snap at the woman for being so careless and rough.

“Growth is on track. You’re measuring at sixteen weeks.”

She pulls out a speaker attached to a wand–he vaguely recognizes it from appointments with Sarah’s mother at the beginning–and a tube of gel. She covers Charlie’s lower abdomen with goop and presses the wand in, levering it this way and that, seeking the sound of a second heart. There’s a long moment where he thinks they won’t find it–that this will be the day it all goes to hell.

But then there’s a familiar but distant echo, a rapid pulse of sound, the memory coming back to him across thirty-five years and an apocalypse. It’s the sound that once filled a small room in a sterile hospital. He remembers it as a black-and-white flutter on the ultrasound screen, fast and vigorous and alive .

Mine , he thinks dimly. He sinks into the chair because his legs no longer want to hold him.

The midwife, satisfied she’s found what she’s looking for, holds the wand steady and looks at her watch. It’s the shortest fifteen seconds of Joel’s life and he doesn’t want it to end.

“One-twenty-six. You can sit up.”

Charlie does. Joel notices she doesn’t bother trying to button her jeans. He vaguely remembers Sarah’s mother needing soft, stretchy things, and wonders if Charlie has anything like that.

“Any cramping?” Joanie asks, flipping through a file.

“No.”

“Still bleeding?”

Charlie hesitates for a fraction of a second. “A little. Not every day.”

Joel’s eyes snap to her at that, but she’s not looking at him.

The midwife frowns. “Given your advanced maternal age and your history, I don’t like to hear that.”

Her sharp eyes focus on Joel. “You’re, what, sixty?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Mmm. Sperm quality after fifty is a crapshoot,” she sighs. “You’re looking at an increased risk of genetic defects.”

Joel grips the arm of the chaise hard enough to rip it from the frame. He’s going to kill this woman.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” she continues. “Maternal-fetal medicine in this country was a shitshow before cordyceps, and the pandemic might as well have sent us back to the dark ages. I’ve seen one death for every five live births. Maternal survival rates are better, but only slightly.”

She’s looking at Charlie. “I can’t tell you you’re going to be okay. I can’t tell you your baby is going to be okay. I can only tell you what I think will help your chances and then…we wait and see.”

Charlie nods, her face drawn into a flat, emotionless mask as she takes this in.

“No more patrols. Light duty work only. No lifting. I can give you a doctor’s note for the council to reassign you if your regular job is too strenuous. No sex,” she says, looking pointedly at Joel. “And if the bleeding gets worse–if it’s bad enough that you need a pad–you go on bed rest immediately.”

Her eyes shift back to Joel. “Stress is a baby-killer. Your job is to take care of her and make sure there is no stress. None. If you can’t do that, you need to find someone who can.”

He grinds his teeth so hard he thinks he hears a molar crack.

“We’re done. I’ll see you next week,” she says dismissively.

And then Charlie’s off the chaise and ushering him to the door before he can open his mouth to give the woman hell and they’re stepping out into the rain. They make it to the end of the street before he stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he says, hating the way his voice shakes, recognizing the animal clawing within his chest as barely contained rage.

“I did–I warned you,” she frowns. “She’s rough.”

“No–I mean, the bleeding. You said you were fine.”

“I was. I am,” she says flatly. “You heard the heartbeat.”

“S’not what I meant and you know it,” he hisses.

Her lip curls in a snarl. “You fucked me once . You think that gives you the right to—to everything?”

He blinks. “That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

When he can’t answer, she turns and walks away. The sight of her retreating back hunched against the rain only serves to stoke the fire of his anger further. Her shirt is getting soaked.

Where the fuck is her jacket? She’s going to get sick.

He catches up and grabs her by the arm, turning her around and holding her in place.

“You heard her. How am I supposed to take care of you if you won’t fuckin’ let me?”

Only then does he see the tears in her eyes, rain mingling with salt on her cheeks. Guilt stabs at him and he loosens his grip.

“I don’t know,” she hisses. “I can’t just…be that person with you. I don’t fucking know you! I don’t even know your middle name, but we’re having a fucking baby. Or maybe we’re not, because our odds are shit, and I should have taken care of this when I had the chan–”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, he pulls her to him, wrapping her in his arms until he’s holding her in the middle of the street. “Stop. Please.”

She shudders but doesn’t push him away. The sky rumbles, threatening a downpour.

He ducks his head, speaking softly. “It’s Arthur.”

She snorts into his shoulder. “What?”

“My middle name. S’Arthur. After my grandfather.”

She makes a noise that sounds like a sob…or a laugh. He can’t tell. The sound stirs a frantic need within him and he grips her by the shoulders.

“Move in with me.”

“What? No.”

“Just until the kid gets here. Let me take care of you both.”

She looks up at him, eyes ringed with dark circles. A raindrop splashes on the tip of her nose and drips into the divot above her upper lip.

“Do you even want this? I need to hear you say it.”

Any lingering anger melts away. He thinks of the soft yellow onesie still tucked into the bottom of his pack.

“I do,” he says, hoping the two little words are enough to hold her, to convince her.

She ducks her head with a watery sigh, close enough for her hair to brush at his chest. “Let me think about it.”

He nods. “Alright, but…not too long, okay? You’re, uh…”

He trails off as the back of his hand touches her stomach, just grazing the fabric over her bellybutton, before dropping back to his side.

She sniffs. “Yeah. I’m well aware we’re on a schedule.”

“Okay…okay then,” he nods, resuming their walk toward town. They’ve almost reached the trading post when she speaks again.

“It’s Sarah, by the way.”

The name takes his breath as it always does, pulls at that black hole in his heart that even Ellie can’t completely fill.

“I don’t under–”

“My middle name,” she sniffs. “You didn’t ask, but…it’s Sarah.”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, just ducks his chin in a nod. Sarah. Of course it’s Sarah.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

~*~

That night, she appears on his porch. The rain has let up, but her hair is still damp, matted to her temples.

“I’ll stay with you,” she says without preamble. “Under one condition.”

He blinks. “Anything.”

“We don’t talk about the kid. No names, no what-ifs…no…playing house. I can’t do any of that,” she says. “We take it one day at a time and…see what happens.”

“If that’s what you want,” he says, swallowing hard.

She nods, satisfied. “Alright. I can bring some stuff by tomorrow.”

“Good. That’d be good. But I uh, need to tell Ellie,” he pauses, thinking. “Can I make dinner for you? For the three of us, I mean?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not playin’ house or whatever,” he clarifies, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “Just…figured the news might go down better with food.”

She nods slowly. “I could do that.”

“You like spaghetti? S’Ellie’s favorite and it’s hard for me to fuck it up.”

“I like spaghetti,” she says, smiling a little. “I get off work at six.”

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Six. See you then.”

~*~

That night, instead of staring at the ceiling during his usual sleepless hours, he moves most of his clothes into the spare bedroom closet and cleans his stuff out of the attached bathroom.

As he works, he thinks of Charlie’s unbuttoned jeans straining around her womb and the climbing summer temperatures. Soon there would be no hiding her stomach under a jacket or sweater.

Jackson was friendly, but it was still a small town. People got bored and they talked, and anyone who paid attention would have seen Charlie and Joel together. There were already enough rumors about Tommy Miller’s broody older brother and his mysterious adopted daughter, the one who wore long sleeves even on the hottest days and carried a switchblade.

Ellie.

Another pang of guilt gnaws in his gut. He’d done enough damage to their relationship as it was, and now he’s about to drop a fucking bomb.

He finds himself knocking on the garage door the next morning, hands rubbing restlessly at the thighs of his jeans as he waits for her to answer. He realizes it’s been a few days since he’s talked with her beyond a simple “hello” in passing, or to pass the salt at dinner, or to ask where she’d put the TV remote. He chides himself; Ellie is independent by nature, but she’s still a kid, still his responsibility. She’s never going to trust him again if–

She answers the door, rubbing her eyes and blinking owlishly up at him. She looks so young when she first wakes up, hair tousled, sleep lines on her cheeks.

“Hey, I uh…we’re, uh…having dinner at the house tonight. Makin’ your favorite. Spaghetti.”

She raises an eyebrow. Joel doesn’t usually cook if he can help it; the caf is easier and less prone to burning things. “What’s the occasion?”

He swallows hard. “There’s somethin’ I need to talk to you about. And…Charlie will be there.”

“Ooooo-kay,” she yawns. “Love a good third wheel situation, I guess.”

“S’not like that,” he shakes his head. “She’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she smirks, then sighs dramatically. “I guess I can make room in my packed social calendar for dinner. As long as it’s spaghetti. Maria’s sauce, right? ‘Cause yours is…yikes.”

She sticks her tongue out to drive the point home.

He snorts softly. “Yeah. Maria’s sauce. And garlic bread.”

“Cool.”

He nods, and the moment draws itself out, that awful, awkward, twisting silence filled with all the things he can’t say.

“So…was there something else?” she asks. “I gotta get ready for school.”

“No…nope,” he mutters. “I guess not. I’ll see you tonight, kiddo.”

~*~

He doesn’t quite burn the garlic bread, but it’s pretty fucking dark. He’s scraping the crumbs into the sink when Charlie appears at the door with a salad in hand and a backpack slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing an oversized blue button-down over soft black leggings. For comfort’s sake, he hopes the jeans have been retired for a while.

“Thanks,” he says, taking the bag, frowning at its weight. “You’re not s’posed to be lifting stuff.”

“I can handle a bag of clothes.”

He grunts, gestures to the salad. “You can put that on the table. Ellie’ll be over in a few.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“You can sit,” he says, perhaps too gruffly, placing her pack by the stairs. On the stove, the reheated marinara starts to bubble, spitting red flecks. He rushes to take it off the heat.

Ellie arrives just as Joel is setting the last bowl on the table. She nods in a wary greeting to Charlie, then helps herself to spaghetti and salad and bread.

“So what’s up?” she asks around a mouthful of food, forgoing any small talk—his kid, through and through.

Joel swallows hard, looks at Charlie, who simply shrugs as if to say this is your show .

He opens his mouth but the words are stubborn and nothing seems right.

You’re going to be a big sister.

Your old man is going to be a dad again.

I fucked up and we’re having a baby.

He’d never had to worry about this with Sarah. On the rare occasion a date went further than dinner, he’d been cautious to a fault. He’d been considering a vasectomy before the pandemic but time and savings were sparse. He probably could have had the procedure done back in the QZ, but Tess had been his only partner, and she’d had a hysterectomy in her thirties. An operation that would put him out of commission for any length of time seemed like an unnecessary waste of ration cards.

He realizes he’s lost in thought, and they’re both watching him, still waiting.

“So, uh…Charlie’s gonna move in with me for a bit,” he says. “I’m givin’ her my room, and I’ll take your old one…if that’s okay.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. “You two aren’t… together ?”

“No,” Joel mutters, meeting Charlie’s eyes across the table. “S’temporary. She just needs a place for a bit.”

“Weird, but…fine with me,” Ellie shrugs, then turns to Charlie. “Joel’s good at taking in strays, it’s kinda his thing. Case in point.”

Charlie smiles a little at this, takes a sip of her water.

“She’s, uh, gonna have a baby,” Joel continues, focused on his plate, pushing the food around.

“Oh shit, congrats!” Ellie grins at Charlie, then looks back at Joel. He can’t meet her eyes.

There’s a heavy silence. Joel grips his fork until the design in the handle makes an imprint in his palm. He waits for Ellie to do what she does so well, to pick up the hints, put the pieces together, and say the things he can’t.

“Wait,” Ellie says, looking back and forth between them, mouth dropping open in a scandalized O .

“You didn’t—”

She coughs then, choking on a mouthful of food, and fumbles frantically for her water glass.

“Joel,” she says when she can speak again. “Tell me you didn’t.”

All he can offer is a tiny shrug.

“Holy shit ,” she breathes, fork clattering to her plate. “You slut !”

Not for the first time, Joel wishes she had a proper full name–Elspeth, Eleanor, Elizabeth, Eliza–anything that, combined with a solid middle name, made for a convincing and forceful reprimand.

“Sarah Elizabeth Miller” was always effective when his first kid was being a little shit, even if he rarely had to use it.

As it is, he can only growl Ellie’s short-and-sweet name under his breath and watch it roll right off her back. She doesn’t miss a beat.

“Wow, I can’t…I mean, you just said you weren’t even together –”

“We’re not,” he grates out. “It was a…a one-time thing.”

His face is so hot, he can practically feel the vein throbbing at his temple. He wonders if his second kid will give him a fucking aneurysm before his third kid can even be born.

“Thanks for that, now I need to bleach my fucking brain,” she says. “Gross. So, so gross. Dude, you’re like, sixty .”

“I’m fifty-seven,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, so really fucking old . Do you not know how babies are made ? FEDRA school was shit but even they taught us how to put on a fucking condom—”

“Ellie, we didn’t—“

“Don’t, dude. Just stop. You’re really fucked up, you know that? Like, I know I have issues, but this is fuckin’—”

She’s interrupted by a muffled snort from the other side of the table. Charlie has clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes are brimming with tears. She’s going to fucking cry because his kid is an asshole and he is an even bigger asshole and this has gone all fifteen kinds of wrong.

Joel would like to die, right now, face down in a plate of spaghetti with his face the color of marinara—anything to end this godawful conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie gasps, and it dawns on him that she’s not crying at all–she’s struggling not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, I haven’t–this is just–holy shit .”

She breaks out into a peal of giggles, leaving both Joel and Ellie in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, heaving and hiccuping as she tries to catch her breath. “Everything has been so awful and serious and…this is just so…so…fucking funny –”

Ellie blinks, looking back and forth between Joel and Charlie in wide-eyed amazement.

Something in Joel’s chest unfurls from its tight, anxious knot, and when he meets Charlie’s eyes, he can’t help but return her grin.

“You two are fucked ,” Ellie pronounces, but there’s a slow smile spreading across her face.

“We are,” Joel agrees. “We’re fucked.”

“Totally fucked,” Charlie agrees, then giggles again.

Ellie shakes her head in disbelief, digging back into her spaghetti. “Welcome to the fucking family, I guess.”

~*~

Joel shows up for work the next day feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’d finally slept . Ellie, while completely disgusted, hadn’t disowned him; she’d even hugged him before returning to the garage. And Charlie had made herself at home, joining him on the couch to watch a movie after dinner.

Maybe this could fucking work.

His newfound peace lasts about as long as it takes for Tommy to find him and clap him on the shoulder.

“What’s this I hear about you takin’ in strays?”

Joel scowls, picking up an extension cord and trying to untangle it from a pile of the things. “Don’t believe everythin’ you hear.”

“So Charlie isn’t shackin’ up with you, then?”

“S’not like that. It’s temporary.”

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots his brother a look over his shoulder, weighing his options. The rumor mill isn’t churning as fast as he thought or Tommy would be all over it by now. He rolls his eyes, knowing what comes next will be just about as bearable as a tooth extraction, aware he can’t put it off any longer.

“She’s gonna have a kid.”

“Right,” Tommy snorts. “Your kid?”

Joel turns and holds his brother’s gaze.

“Holy shit,” Tommy breathes. “You’re serious?”

“You’re gonna be an uncle again,” Joel says dryly.

Tommy whistles. “Well, don’t that just beat all. How the hell–”

“The usual way,” Joel grumbles, turning back to his work. “Can we not do this here?”

But Tommy has never been easily deterred. He practically launches himself at his brother for a bone-crushing hug while half the work crew looks on, bemused.

“Christ, get offa me.”

Tommy doesn’t. When he finally pulls away, grinning and gripping Joel’s shoulders, he’s almost teary-eyed.

“Maria’s gonna be thrilled.”

“I doubt it,” Joel mutters, thinking he’s already not held in high esteem by his sister-in-law. Knocking up a girl twenty years his junior is hardly going to redeem him.

“Does Ellie know?”

“Yeah, we told her last night. She’s…about as excited as you’d expect.”

“Damn. I can’t—I mean, I always thought—after—“

Tommy sobers, and the word lingers heavy between them.

After .

“I know,” Joel says, realizing with a dull ache that his brother is the only other person alive who understands the gravity of the situation…the only one who knew Sarah as more than a sad story in their history.

Joel closes his eyes and sees his brother at twenty, Sarah’s tiny arms wrapped around his neck as she clings to his back, laughing wildly as he dives through the sprinklers on the front lawn.

He blinks the memory away, busies himself with the extension cord again. He doesn’t even remember what he wanted it for, but he needs to do something with his hands.

“But it’s good, right? This is good,” Tommy says, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Joel swallows hard. “It’s good.”

Tommy grins, then frowns just as quickly. “Oh, man. The midwife–”

“Yeah, she’s awful.”

“Maria damn near killed her when Izzy was born.”

“‘Bout ready to myself,” Joel mutters.

“And…you and Charlie ain’t…?”

Joel glares at him in answer.

“Alright, brother. Damn, man. A kid…and at your age…”

Tommy laughs and ducks just in time to avoid the extension cord as it whips by his head.

#fanfic #fic recs #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #babyfic #pregnancy #tlou fanfic #tlou fic

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sgkophie · 7 months

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Hate To Love You - Chapter 6 - The Lady Doth Protest (Charles Leclerc Series)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (OFC) Warnings: language Word Count: 3200 Tag List: Drop a comment or add your name HERE. Synopsis: Enemies to lovers + sizzling banter + fake dating with Charles Leclerc. Full synopsis & master list HERE. Author’s Note: Wow, it's been way too long and damn it feels good to be back with you all. I'm feeling good about posting 3-4k words each week, probably on Thursdays or Fridays. THANK YOU for your patience!!! It's been a crazy summer and fall, here's to a nice and settled winter ❤️ A Man's World has officially been PUBLISHED. Interested in a copy? Click HERE! As always your feedback on my content is truly INSPIRING and makes my day, so if you liked the chapter let me know what you think below in the comments! I eat them up like DESSERT! Want more updates or just want to launch at my hilarious Georgia and Lily reels? Follow me on TikTok Or Instagram! @authorgracenewman Now enough of my shameless self-promotion... let's get back to Lily and Charles!

You'll definitely want to chapter up with Chapter 5 HERE.

I woke up the next morning to the ringing of my cell phone. With my eyes still groggy with sleep, I turned over and groaned, reaching over to the bedside table as I fumbled for the device. The phone stopped as soon as I grabbed it, and I sighed in relief, hoping that whoever was on the other end of the phone call had realized that it was still the morning, although I knew I should already be awake.

As soon as the ringing stopped, my mind wandered back to last night, and the horror of what I had done settled on my chest. I’d done what I had promised I would never do again – I’d ended up back in bed with Charles fucking Leclerc. Charles had once again dragged me back under his spell, and just like last time, he had managed to leave me feeling as if I was trash in the gutter just by one look on his face.

Regret.

Charles had regretted me the last time we had traveled down that road, and I knew he regretted me this time. As much as I wanted to tell myself that I didn’t care about how Charles Leclerc felt about me, I knew deep inside my soul that it wasn’t true, especially not when that feeling was regret.

I looked at my phone and immediately went to open Instagram, but before I could open the app my phone rang again, and Georgia Dubois’s name flashed on the phone’s screen.

What on earth did Georgia want with me on a morning after a night out?

“Georgia… I feel like the pre-season debrief could wait until we’re back at the office, hmm?”

“Lily, I need you to come to my room, now. Floor 15, room 1568.” There was urgency in her voice, urgency and something else., something that sounded like panic.

“… Now as in… now now?”

“See you in five.” Before I could protest, Georgia hung up the phone. I looked at the clock - 10:10 a.m., which meant the hallways would be fairly empty since most guests had either left on early flights or were still hungover in their rooms. I threw on some clothes and made my way up to Georgia’s floor, which was of course much higher up than mine.

No expense spared when it comes to Ferrari and their drivers, I scoffed to myself. The Mercedes F1 team was known for its cost savings when it came to hotels and drivers. Lewis used to always complain that as a 7x World Champion, he was lucky to get a suite when it came to Toto and Mercedes’ purse strings.

I headed straight to the room that Georgia had texted me and knocked on the door. It was as if Georgia had been standing there waiting for me, because she opened it on the second knock, causing me to fall forward, only to catch myself on the coat rack that had been placed right next to the door.

“Jesus, Georgie…” I grunted, shaking off the small moment of shock as I walked into the room. Seated on the couch was her fiance Carlos, who just nodded my way as he kept his eyes on the TV, glued to the Real Madrid game going on in the background.

Georgia motioned for me to take a seat, which I obliged as Carlos immediately lowered the volume of the television, finally turning to face me and Georgia. As soon as Carlos looked at me, I felt dread take over my entire body. Carlos was always so happy-go-lucky – and I likened him to a golden retriever, barely anything got him down, but the solemn nature of his face told me exactly why I was here.

“Is someone going to tell me what is going on?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between the three of us. I could see that Georgia was trying to find her words.

“So… after the pre-season party last night, what did you do?” Georgia finally asked, and I frowned, giving her a pointed look to let her know that I wasn’t thrilled with her nosy question.

“Not really any of your business,” I scoffed at my ex-teammate, but I knew my cheeks had gone slightly red. I wasn’t sure what Georgia had heard, but I wasn’t about to admit that I had slept with her brother last night.

“Well, it seems like it is my business now,” Georgia quipped, clearly unimpressed with my snarky reply. Her tone sounded like a mother who had just caught a child stealing from the cookie jar.

“… just fucking spit it out, Georgia.”

“Lily, I don’t care if you and Charles are fucking. I don’t care that you and Pierre are fucking. Hell, I don’t care if you have slept with the whole fucking grid…” Georgia’s tone was sharp, and I could feel her words start to slice through me.

So she did know that I had slept with her ex-boyfriend Pierre. Guess I wasn’t as discreet as I had hoped.

Before I could get a word in, Georgia continued, “… but what I do care about, is your reputation. As only one of two women on the grid, you know what is at stake here. I fucking hate that the entire world looks at the female drivers through a magnifying glass, but they do. The world shouldn’t care about who you are with, and quite frankly, it’s none of their business… but that just isn’t the case.

What we do is, and for the foreseeable future will be, looked at through a microscope. Am I making any sense to you?” Georgia sighed and looked back at Carlos, who just grabbed her shoulder and gave it a squeeze before nodding at her in supportive agreement.

As if out of instinct, I felt my lips starting to apologize to Georgia. “Look, Georgia… I’m sorry about…” But before I could finish, Georgia cut me off, putting her hand up to signal that her tirade wasn’t yet complete.

“I’m not done, Lily,” she said tiredly. I could see that the actual lecture was about to happen, and I felt my stomach sink to the floor. By the look on her face, I knew she was more upset with me for something other than sleeping with her brother – and that thought disturned me more than Georgia admitting she already knew that I had slept with her brother and ex-boyfriend.

“Lily, someone caught you and Charles in the elevator last night. And to make matters worse, as of this morning, the video is all over Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, you name it. I had a call from Toto this morning, who debriefed me on the situation…

Lily, are you listening to me?”

No, I wasn’t listening one bit. Truth was, I had stopped listening after the word ‘caught.’ Dread started to fill my entire body, and I could feel my hands and legs start to shake from all-consuming panic.

How could I be so fucking stupid? Of course, someone had caught us. Charles was the number 1 driver on the grid, people knew his face everywhere, and this hotel was crawling with tourists.

I just stared back at my racing coach, not able to utter a single word. The silence for the next minute was deafening, and it was clear that even Georgia didn’t want to continue with this conversation, but I could see from the urgency in her eyes that we had no other choice.

“How bad is it?” I eventually managed to force out my question, gazing up at Georgia through my flooded eyes.

“Salvageable,” was all she responded.

“What are they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I knew from the look in her eye and tone of her voice that it did matter.

“Bull shit, Georgie. We both know I’m going to hear it eventually from my mother, so you might as well spit it out.” The uneasy expression on her face and exasperated sigh told me exactly how bad it was, and I immediately pulled out my phone, but Georgia grabbed it from me, placing it back on the table screen facing down.

“Let me guess, it’s a lot worse for me than it is for your brother?” I scoffed, and the lack of response from both Georgia and Carlos confirmed my suspicions.

It was always worse for the woman.

“It’s not great for either of you, honestly.” Again, she paused, and as I watched her mouth something to Carlos, the anger inside of me started to explode into full-blown rage.

Fuck this.

“Georgia, if you don’t tell me what’s happening this instant, I am going to go down the hallway and start yelling until I find someone who does. Clearly, Toto and the team have asked you to tell me what is going on, so spit it out. This torturous silence and limbo you have me in is crucifying my soul!”

“I know, you’re right,” Georgia sighed. “Here’s the lowdown. You and Charles were caught, in the elevator, before rushing into his hotel room. The tourist, or whoever it was, filmed the two of you. Unfortunately, they also caught you coming out of Charles’ room, looking like you were doing a walk of shame.

“By early this morning, the photos were all over the internet, and The Sun posted a ludicrous story a few hours on the matter.”

“Please, no one believes The Sun. I mean, it’s The Sun, the crappiest tabloid ever made. Plus, these photos should blow over in a week - maybe two tops, right?”

“Yes… except this morning, someone decided to fan the flames of the article.” Georgia didn’t have to say the words for me to know exactly who it was.

Fucking Louis, my ex-boyfriend, and the gift that kept on giving. Every fiber of my being told me he was behind this, and if he wasn’t behind it, I knew he damn well would make the most of it.

“Louis was caught this morning at the airport offering up his opinions on the photos in front of tourists, VIPs… anyone that would listen…”

“Lucky me,” I sneered. “And tell me, what did my dear ex-boyfriend have to say about this?”

“He insinuated that you and Charles have been sleeping around for a while.”

“And by ‘insinuated,’ he just fucking flat out said it, didn’t he?” Again, the silence between the three of us told me everything I needed to know.

Oh, Louis.

He must have been immensely pleased with himself in that moment. He had always believed Charles and I had slept together during my first season in Formula 1, something I never confirmed as I knew it would only serve to make him more jealous.

I couldn't risk Louis's suspicions of Pierre growing further by making him aware that I had slept with someone else on the grid – that wasn't a reputation I wanted for myself.

”Georgia’s foot was now tapping up and down as she eyed me warily, not ready to utter the words that I could see were killing her on the inside.

“He accused you of sleeping around the grid, said that Charles wasn’t the only one…. Lily, Louis said that’s why you came third in the championship behind Charles last year, because you have been sleeping with him and a few of the guys.”

“I’m sorry… did my ex-boyfriend, who I caught in bed with another woman, dare to accuse me of cheating on him when he's had his dick in how much pussy?” I was now standing, my arms outstretched as I just motioned to me and then back to my phone like a buffoon. I was both speechless and had too much to say at the same time.

“Not in so many words.”

“Good grief, Georgia, just say yes.” My voice was laced with sarcasm as I said the words. I knew lashing out at one of my closest friends was not the answer, but the utter despair and frustration of this conversation was starting to get the best of me. My racing coach was phenomenal with data –bad with people.

“Look, he didn’t directly say it, but it’s clear that social media is inferring it from his words, especially considering everyone assumed you guys were dating… and now you aren’t.”

“Everyone thinks we currently aren’t dating because he was seen with a new blond bimbo!” I exclaimed, still waving my hands frantically in the air as I stood up, as if that was going to make my point hit home. “Of course, everyone was going to think it was my fault. No one ever blames the white man… Let me guess, Charles is coming away unscathed from this one?”

“Now that is where you’re wrong. Apparently, his sponsors and PR team aren’t thrilled about him sleeping with one of the two women on the grid, especially not one that just got out of a relationship with a supposed friend of his.”

“I didn’t think who either of us slept with was any of our sponsor’s business.” Georgia just gave me a pointed look that told me to stop daydreaming – of course, sponsors cared. I was their property until they stopped paying my bills.

“But the good news is, there is a solution to this.” Georgia’s face slightly lit up, and I immediately knew where she was going with this.

“You’re out of your mind. Like hell am I going to pretend to date Charles Leclerc. I don’t care if he’s your brother. I don’t care if he’s Ferrari’s golden boy. I don’t care that his stupid smug face could save my career. No. No way. Not a chance.” I downed my coffee and began pacing the room, but Georgia’s silence and slight uptick of her mouth told me that nothing I said had gotten through to her.

“Why do you hate my brother so much?” Georgia’s tone wasn’t as upset as I had expected. As twins, she and Charles were incredibly close, and yet Georgia always seemed so amused by the visceral reaction I had every time I saw her brother.

“I don’t hate your brother,” I bit back – unconvincingly.

“Me thinks the Lady doth protest too much,” Georgia winked.

“There’s no way Charles would agree to this! Why would he? The sponsors aren’t actually going to drop the racer all of the bookies have their money on.”

“No, you’re probably right, but his sponsors could make this very, very painful for him. Being seen having a one-night stand with a female driver who was dating your friend and a fellow racecar driver jsut days after their supposed break up, is a very bad look for Charles – and judging by the comments on his Instagram this morning, the fans have noticed. Believe it or not – Charles loves his golden boy image, and that image is unmistakably tarnished.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I believe that Charles loves his golden-boy image.” I couldn’t help but snicker, as if Georgia thought the entire grid wasn’t constantly witnessing Charles enjoy his status as the grid’s most desirable driver. The press loved him. The fans loved him. All of Monaco loved him.

Well, I guess until he slept with a certain rebellious Brit. That thought had me slightly grinning, a grin that was quickly wiped off my face as Georgia cleared her throat; her look of disappointment was noticeable.

“Georgia, there’s no way Charles is going to agree to this,” I insisted. The only thing Charles hated more than losing his precious reputation was the idea of dating the rebellious, stubborn British driver whose dirty laundry filled up a laundromat full of machines.

“He already has.”

Stunned didn’t describe how I felt as Georgia said the words. Not a single bone in my body believed what she was saying.

I was speechless.

“There’s no way…”

“There is. I spoke to my brother this morning after I chatted to Toto. Toto didn’t ask me if you were dating, but I could tell by his voice that he was definitely hopeful the two of you were dating. The Mercedes social media posts have been full of fan’s inquiries – and Toto said Petronas were asking as well.”

“So what you’re saying is none of these traditional sponsors want a grid slut… really puts a new meaning to grid girl.”

“Lily….” Georgia chastised as she rubbed her temples.

“No, no, it’s fine. No need to remind me of my place Georgia. I suppose I should be happy that my ‘hero’ Charles has come to my rescue, hmmm? Best to not look a gift horse in the mouth.” Again, I knew the sarcasm was untimely and incredibly rude, but the entire thing felt like a slap in the face.

“Look, I know it’s not what you want, but not only will it help boost both of your images, but it’ll put all of those dating rumors from Louis at bay and shut him up.

We’re looking to get ahead of things. If you and Charles announced that the two of you are dating, then Louis can’t exactly come out and say that 'no, in fact, Lily and I were dating.’ It would be much too embarrassing for him, especially since he has a new girlfriend. This stops all of the rumors about you and him and settles it once and for all.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. There’s no way this was a good idea. Even if this worked, it wouldn’t matter, Charles and I would kill each other before either of us could see the benefits of this arrangement.

"And what does precious Charles get out of this?"

"Charles can restore his image and reputation. He's always been a relationship boy, and his relationship with whatever-her-name-was has been out of the public eye for some time now. He's never been the one-night stand type of guy, and this way he can have a positive relationship that won't get in the way of his racing."

I threw my hands up in disbelief as I exclaimed, "That's just great! So now I'm helping not only my rival with his PR image but also his racing? Fabulous!" I could only hope that Georgia would pick up on the sarcasm in my voice. "As far as I see it, you're helping each other," she said pointedly, and I knew she was reminding me of what I had at stake here. "Look, you don’t have to get back to me today. We have a couple of weeks’ break, and you have a few days at home. Take a day to think on it?”

“I don’t have to think on it. It’s a no.” Georgia just smiled at me as she sipped her small decaf coffee.

“Just take some time to think on it, Lily.”

Without sparing Georgia a glance, I stormed out of her hotel room and marched myself back to mine.

The notion of even considering this idea was so absurd that my blood boiled in rage.

Hell would have to freeze over before I would ever date Charles Leclerc.

Hate To Love You Tag List

@auawdo @franx3sxa @noeesd19 @opfire @sgkophie-writes @kidlnthedark @dan3avocado @lwstuff @montenegrina086 @lovingdennishauger @softiecaro @giuseppeyuki @lecsainz55 @she-shines-bright @angstyturtlewitch @smoooothoperator @xscorpioxmoon @zoobabystation @irmpyrz @holaputanas @imnotcryingyouare1 @noncsi87 @lissimountf1 @stas-0 @miniminescapist @khadijahisham @earfquak3 @fuckedupbutadorable @whosays75 @eas-8 @its-skywalker-luc @cawamities @sainzcaleruega @internetgremlin-writes @alina-starksov @buendiabebeta @abditory-77 @lightfury10 @starxqt @pancakesonacow @lestappenwhore @juliantheupsidedown @queenslife @messyblondsblog @samsationalwilson @cocomira @lovelyxtom @alexturnersmic505

#charles leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc smut #f1 smut #Charles Leclerc x you #formula 1 #charles leclerc x ofc #f1 fanfic #cl16

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wildemaven · 6 months

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fall apart, again : interlude - a letter to joel | joel miller

-> pairing: joel miller x ofc!genevieve

-> wc: 1001

-> content warning: 18+ blog; angst, alluding to loss, post outbreak, reader is Joel’s wife, reader has a name but has zero descriptive features,

-> a/n: I kind of abandoned this series and didn’t really have any plans to finish it. It felt good where they ended in chapter 3 so I was just going to call it good. But then I was reading through the chapters and kind of found some inspiration to write something for them again. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for always listening and encouraging and fixing my writing!!

series masterlist / playlist

previous / next

Joel,

Feels weird to be sitting here, on our bed, in our home. I guess I should mention we made it back to Austin— Steve and I.

I met Steve in the ER in Laredo on the evening of the outbreak— he lost his wife. We managed to make it out of there together and promised to keep each other safe. He heard there’s a QZ in Denver, so we’re making our way north.

I made him promise to stop in Austin. I just had to see for myself, see if there was a chance you and Sarah might still be here— alive.

Like I said, it feels weird to be here. Seeing our house in this state. Disheveled and abandoned, but still feeling very much like the place we thought we’d live forever. It’s like a personal landmark now, for what once was such a beautiful home filled with so many beautiful memories. Maybe it’s more of a mausoleum of sorts. Kind of morbid, but also very true. ‘Here lies the Millers, before the world went to shit.’

Except, I’m here and you’re not.

I think the worst part of all of this is not knowing if you’re okay. Steve says I have to accept that there’s a chance that you’re not, that any worst case scenario that I have lost sleep over, might be my reality. But I refuse to accept that. So, I silently pretend that you are okay. That you have managed to get Sarah and yourself, and hopefully Tommy, to safety. You’re somewhere out there protecting our baby girl and staying strong for her like you’ve always done.

I feel like I’m rambling. My thoughts are just all over the place being here and thinking of you. Or maybe I’m just dragging out my time here because the minute I leave, it will be like a final goodbye to this place— and I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet.

It’s like I can still smell the faint musk of your cologne in the air. Like you’ll walk through our bedroom door, pulling your keys and wallet from your jeans and tossing them on the dresser, all while telling me about some mishap on a job site that set you back a few days. I can just see that grumpy look you wear so well. Then, when you’ve let it all out, you instantly soften when you finally look at me sitting on our bed and then you’re apologizing for boring me with your work bullshit. I would listen to your work bullshit every single day if it meant we could be together again.

When I got here, it was like I was being pulled into Sarah’s room. I sat there for a while, remembering all the times we had laid there with her reading her bedtime stories until she would fall asleep. I miss our dance parties while we would wait for you to come home, her insisting I had zero rhythm anytime one of her little boy band hits came on and I attempted to keep up with her choreographed routine she had memorized. I’m taking a few things of hers, I hope that’s okay. I don’t think I can come back here and I want to have something of hers.

I found your ring on our dresser. Don’t worry I’m not mad you aren’t wearing it. Gosh, I can’t believe I would get so worked up over seeing it laying there instead of on your finger. I know how much it bothered you wearing it to work and worrying about losing it or getting it caught on something, and yet I would still get annoyed over it. But, maybe you weren’t meant to wear it so I could find it today, so I could have a piece of you with me always.

I guess I should wrap this up. I know how much you love when I can go on and on about anything.

I will write to you. Whenever I get the chance. To Sarah, too. I’ll keep writing to you both for as long as I can.

I love you Joel. I always have. And I always will. Wherever you are, I just hope you know that.

Forever and always,

Eve

“Hey, Genevieve— ya doin’ okay up there?” Steve calls up from downstairs.

“Yeah! Just give me a sec! I’ll be right down.” You try to hide your pain as you respond, wiping the few tears sprinkled across your cheeks.

You fold your letter to Joel, placing it securely in an envelope you had found next to the pile of printer paper you tucked away with the items of Sarah’s in your pack. You push yourself off the bed, walking around to the side where Joel slept since the day you moved in. You run your handover the indentation in his pillow, remembering how much you loved to wake up before him just so you could watch him sleep.

Lifting the corner of his pillow, you gently place the letter underneath it. The last place you talked to him, is the first place you’ll write to him. You imagine he’s laying there, sleeping peacefully when you kiss the top of his pillow.

Grabbing your pack off the bed, you take one last look at the space, your heart clenching at the finality of this visit. You force your legs to move towards the direction of the door, stopping briefly at the dresser to grab Joel’s ring, tucking it into one of your packs inner pockets safely.

Steve is sitting on the couch when you finally make it downstairs. His patience is something you’ve appreciated since the day you met. He knew how much stopping here meant to you, and he told you to take as much time as you needed.

“All good?” He asks once you’ve stepped off the last step.

“No, but it will be, I think.” You tell him as you make your way out the front door.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller x Genevieve #the last of us au #the last of us #tlou #wildemaven writes #pedrostories #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female oc #pedro pascal

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the-river-runs · 10 months

Text

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

#river says...#bestie posting #cryptid sighting #crytid sightings spoilers #many more memes for everyone to enjoy :)#now that I've caught up to CS i can actually look at these memes hdjssjn #real talk though #crytid sightings is genuinely such a beautiful fic and one of my favorite stories of all time #naff has such an incredible writing style and is such a good storyteller #i really recommend reading CS even if you're not into fnaf #it's such a rollercoaster #the fluff is so sweet and the angst is so heartbreaking #but everything just works #I'm so grateful to have found Naff and her work #she's such a lovely person and an extremely talented author #I am so excited to see what she writes next #especially since the end of CS had me so emotional #i will never get over this fic #sorry for the long rambling tags but i had to gush a little bdjdjsj #hope you guys enjoy the memes <3

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 month

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Love, Napoleon!: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Sweet Desserts and Sweeter Kisses

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Black!OFC

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Summary: Love letters can only do so much, sometimes you need a grand romantic gesture. This is the love story of Napoleon “Leon” Solo and Roberta “Bobbie” Collins.

Chapter Summary: Bobbie and Leon entertain Gaby and Illya.

Warnings: p-in-v sex, creampie, fluff

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“Leon! It’s been six months. You are now legally obligated to introduce me to your friends.” Bobbie moves around the kitchen, checking on various dishes on the stove and in the oven.

“Gaby is beside herself to meet you,” Leon acknowledges from his post, leaning in the doorway to the quaint kitchenette.

“Well, see? Gaby is excited, so why aren’t you?” She challenges, pulling out a baking dish from the oven and setting it on the counter.

“It’s not Gaby that I’m worried about. She’s a sweetheart once you get past the tough exterior. But Illya? Tough is all he knows. I can’t exactly blame him,” he says, looking over to where Bobbie picked her head up and looked at him for more information. “And I can’t exactly tell you why that is. Sorry, love.”

“Right, right. Need-to-know basis. But not to worry; I’ve got a secret weapon for Illya. I made a dish specifically for him. And if I know anything, it’s the way to a man’s heart, and that is through his stomach. So, even though this is nerve-wracking as all get out, I think he’s going to at least tolerate it,” she huffs, balling up a dishtowel before tossing it on the counter.

Napoleon walks up behind Bobbie and wraps his arms around her, his head resting on her shoulder as he pulls her into him. “You know, I am so proud of you for putting all this together for my friends. You’ve done so much to make everything perfect, and I think you deserve a little treat of your own.”

“What are you-” Bobbie starts, only to be cut off by the shock of Napoleon’s hand smoothing down her sweater-covered breast and further down over her corduroy knee-length skirt. When it disappears under the fabric, she squirms. “Leon, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Well then, I’d better make this fast,” he whispers. Walking backward, Napoleon rests his hips against the counter behind him. Holding Bobbie against himself with one hand across her middle and one in her panties, he continues toying with her swelling clit until her legs buckle. “There she is, so close already.”

“Leon…please,” she trails off, her wringing hands at her sides. She knows if she reaches for his hand, he will stop. Throwing her head back against his chest, she looks up into his face and witnesses how much he truly enjoys having this power over her. That doesn’t stop her from pleading with her big brown eyes.

“Oh, you know exactly what that look does to me,” he growls, leaning down to capture her lips with his own. His hand that was around her middle comes up to cradle her face, his thumb caressing her cheek as she stands on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Breaking the kiss, Napoleon turns them around to face the counter, pulling Bobbie’s skirt up and her panties down. “That kiss of yours is going to be the death of me.”

He has his pants unzipped, his cock pulled out, and inside of her in record time. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not that it mattered. His main goal is to get her off so her mind clears. He moves his hips back before slamming them back in, and she is already putty in his hands.

Within minutes, he has Bobbie on the brink of her orgasm. He’s holding her there, his hands on her hips, as he maintains a punishing pace. With every thrust, he pushes her closer to the edge, only to catch her before she can fall. Only when he’s ready will he allow her to come crashing down.

Judging by the footfalls and the sound of the front door of the apartment building closing, he doesn’t have much time. Luckily, he knows how to play her body. His right hand finds her puffy clit while his left hand migrates to her throat.

Whispering into her ear, “Come for me, pretty girl. Let go and show me you can follow directions like I know you can.”

As if by a magical spell, her walls clamped down around him. He had every intention of fucking her through her orgasm; he really did. But the grip her pussy had on his cock was enough to send him right over the horizon with her. His hips are still as he empties inside her, all while still managing to hold up both of their bodies.

Extricating himself from her hold, Napoleon squats down to pull Bobbie’s underwear back up her legs and rights her skirt again before fixing his clothing.

“I am going to be thinking about my cum leaking out of you all night long,” he sighs, kissing her forehead when she turns around to face him.

Just as she opens her mouth, three sharp knocks sound on the door to her apartment. They fuss over each other for a moment, making sure it doesn’t look like they were just having sex. Once done, they go to the door to greet their guests.

Bobbie swings the door open, greeting the couple in her apartment. “Gaby, Illya. I’m Roberta, but you can call me Bobbie. So nice to finally meet you. I was starting to believe you might be a figment of Leon’s imagination.” She takes their coats, and Napoleon gets drinks ready for them.

“I hope Leon’s imagination flattered me, at least,” Gaby laughs, sipping her dirty martini and winking at Napoleon.

“I only told her the good stuff,” Napoleon replies, bringing a Sazerac to Bobbie and a Manhattan for Illya.

Illya nods to Napoleon, smiles at Bobbie, and remains silent.

Bobbie ushers everyone to the dining table before she starts to bring out dish after dish of foods that are almost too beautiful to eat. Leaving dessert as a surprise, she comes back to the table, and everyone starts to serve themselves. As the first bites are taken, compliments are given to the chef.

“Bobbie, this is delectable,” Gaby hums, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Darling, you have outdone yourself,” Napoleon praises.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like everything. I’ll be honest, I was nervous that I was going to burn something or undercook something. I was a wreck,” Bobbie giggles, looking over the faces of her boyfriend and her guests. “Eat up; I have a treat for dessert, and I hope you all like it.”

Illya eats in relative silence, not one emotion gracing his face. Bobbie has been secretly staring at him for most of dinner. When the meal is complete, Gaby volunteers to clear the plates away, and the women retreat to the kitchen. While they are out of earshot, Napoleon turns on the record player, and the smooth sounds of Peggy Lee’s Fever fill the air.

“Peril, what game are you playing at?” Napoleon cuts to the chase, motioning for Illya to sit on the couch with him.

“It’s been a long time since I had dinner with a civilian. My social skills may not be the best. If I don’t say anything, I won’t accidentally-”

“Have a good time?” Napoleon supplies, cutting off Illya.

Illya rolls his eyes. “I’m not afraid to have a good time. I'm worried about getting close to new people. I don’t know how to be a civilian. I’m an agent,” he says, crossing his arms.

“She’s not going to say anything, so I will. You’re on the verge of being rude. So, do yourself a favor and speak to my lovely before she thinks you don’t like her; that’s if she doesn’t already think that,” Napoleon huffs, tilting his head at Illya.

The girls come out of the kitchen with dessert already plated with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Gaby places two plates on the coffee table while Bobbie serves Napoleon and Illya. Noticing the look of surprise on Illya’s face, Bobbie thinks the worst.

“Is there something wrong?” she supposes.

“Not at all. I haven’t had sharlotka since I was a little boy. My mother used to let me help make it for special occasions,” he marvels, taking a bite and closing his eyes before nodding and saying, “This is perfect. So was dinner. I apologize for my earlier silence; please don’t think I am dissatisfied with you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you would be the hard sell. Luckily, I had the idea for the sharlotka and knew if anything, you’d at least be impressed by me,” Bobbie jokes, taking a bite of the dish. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. That is going in the recipe book, for sure.”

“I’ll have to get that recipe from you. I think you’ve made Illya’s new favorite,” Gaby chuckles, smiling at her husband when a blush creeps up on his face.

When dessert is done, the couples talk for a while over coffee before Illya notices Gaby nuzzling into his side and suggests that they end the night’s fun. By this time, Napoleon is already a pillow for Bobbie as she leans into him from her spot on the couch.

Napoleon picks up Bobbie’s head from his lap, depositing it on the couch after he gets up, not wanting to wake her up just yet. He walks Gaby and Illya to the door, saying goodbye on behalf of himself and Bobbie and promising to tell her that they enjoyed themselves.

Closing the door behind them, he walks over to the couch, where a tired Bobbie is now hanging halfway off the couch. He knows today was a struggle for her; planning an entire dinner and entertaining is no short order. He is so proud of her, not just for today but in general. He thinks the world of her, and nothing could change his mind.

Picking up her limp body from the couch, he takes her into the bedroom and lays her down. He removes her shoes and his own before climbing into bed next to her. He laughs when she cuddles into him and wraps an arm and leg around him possessively. He plants a kiss on her forehead and is met with a mumble from Bobbie.

“What was that, little one?” He presses, cradling her sleepy face in his hand, unsure of what he heard.

“I said I love you, Leon,” she confesses, ducking her head and looking up at him.

Napoleon breaks out into a grin and leans down to kiss Bobbie, only to stop at the last second before their lips touch. Looking into her eyes, he says, “I love you too, Bobbie.”

Bobbie melts in his arms. She knows how Napoleon dotes on her and spoils her. But this love confession of his means the world to her. She also knows that she has loved him for some time now, but the timing was never right to tell him.

Until tonight, this moment could not happen. Napoleon knew that if she didn’t get along with his fellow agents, it would be quite tricky. But watching her win over Gaby so easily and Illya so charmingly cements in his mind that she is worth every ounce of his love.

Of course, if you ask him, he’s loved her since their first kiss. If he’s honest with himself, he still feels butterflies when her lips touch his.

Chapter 5 (TBD)

A/N: This story is far from over. OMG, I missed my babies so much.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @kingliam2019 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @juliaorpll78

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If you are crossed out, I couldn't tag you

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anundyingfidelity · 1 year

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MEMORIES LOST — Jareth x ofc/fem reader. Ch. 1.

Summary: A mysterious woman falls into the Underground, claiming she does not have memories and not knowing why she is there. Jareth, who's bored and taking slight pity on her, takes her under his wing to ease some of his own misery. Post Labyrinth (1986).

Warnings: nudity, masturbation, voyeurism, manipulation, corruption, smut in general.

Word count: 1,377.

Note: female character is named Leah, but no physical characteristics (such as skin color, hair, eyes, etc.) are described on this story. Feel free to imagine how she looks like.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

This fanfiction is also posted in Ao3 under the name undyingfidelity.

Chapter 1. | Chapter 2. | Chapter 3.

Jareth remembered vividly that day when the woman fell to the Underground.

Sitting lonely on the oblong dark table by himself, he had dedicated the last minutes of his day to eat - almost against his will - the well-done dinner the goblins prepared specially for him. Defeated and feeling weak, Jareth spent the last months trying to forget everything about Sarah and her brother. It was ridiculous. How he had become this bored, shattered man on his own. Of course, his own goblins were kind of fools, easy enough to get them to do whatever he wanted, but it wasn't enough. Jareth swallowed a bite of the exquisite steak, and even if it was fair delicious, his mood often shattered down the smallest of the pleasures he still was able to enjoy as a King, including something as mundane as eating.

But that same night, a little old goblin quickly made his way to Jareth, squeaking and muttering unintelligible noises as if trying to say something but couldn't catch any of his babbling.

"What is it?" he questioned, rather annoyed.

"Majesty, Majesty! A woman! She’s fallen into the Labyrinth!"

A woman? He frowned. No, it couldn't be her. Sarah knew how to summon him and it was completely impossible for someone to enter just like that.

"Goblins found her, Majesty! You must come!"

Were the goblins sure it was really a woman? Worst, she might be even human. Jareth hesitated for a moment after remaining silent. He got on his feet quickly forgetting the dinner, scaring away his subject.

"Lead the way," he ordered.

The little creature guided Jareth to come to the Castle gates, where a small crowd was there murmuring and surrounding the so-said woman, who seemed to lie down on the hard concrete. Once the King appeared, the goblins started to make room for him to get closer to the lady. She was graciously asleep over some piled-up clothes that might have been improvised by the goblins to give her some sort of comfort on the hard ground, and a large beige gown adorned her figure as her chest rose in a calm way, just as the look on her face. How was this possible? He didn't know, but she was right there. He bent down slowly, taking better sight of her.

"Has she been asleep since you found her?"

"Yes, Majesty!" the goblin who guided Jareth said behind his back. "She's been sleeping like a log!"

Jareth came closer, prudent of each one of his moves, noticing a shiny necklace hanging around her neck preciously with a black pearl stone decorating her skin. Fascinated by it, his fingers brushed over the pearl softly. A soft breath went past the woman's lips, her eyes opening wide at the sudden touch. The goblin king backed up a little, letting the mysterious woman sit down in horrid, and before her, the quite grand number of creatures watching her attentively as she moved slowly, feeling eyes over her.

"Where am I?" she panted, looking at the man who looked as human as she did.

"This is the Goblin City, and you're trespassing my kingdom," Jareth explained to her. He was standing tall, towering over her and she looked at him from down below.

"How is it that I am here," she mumbled, holding a cry. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, the unknown place she fell on was strange and she started to feel she was unwelcome there.

The piercing eyes of the man were all scanning the woman, who was kneeling quietly before going to her feet.

"Where are you from?" Jareth questioned her, the globins made enough space around their king and their visitor so she could not escape in case she tried to.

"I- I don't know... I don't remember anything," she stammered, scared of the king.

Jareth tried to go over her mind and thoughts but found nothing, but a blank space and a word that might seem like a name, repeating constantly in her head.

"Do you have a name?"

The woman blinked and swallowed hard before speaking softly again.

"Leah."

Leah.

Her name was spinning in his head like it was the first time. Jareth took her to the castle after learning he could not read her mind nor find a single memory, which was certainly unusual. However, he felt some sort of compassion in his heart, and the sentiment was strong enough to make him decide to take her with him. Jareth let her settle down in one of the rooms he had and ordered the goblins to take whatever she needed. But as time grew, Leah found herself in debt after not doing more than the bare minimum - such as eating, cleaning her room, reading books from the library, and taking strolls in the city, or at least, what she could see from it.

Jareth wasn't really fond of Leah going out of the castle, but he understood she needed to go out for some time. After two days, she came in very happy of having encountered a new friend. Let's say Hoggle's name was not the best thing to hear for Jareth that day. He still had a bitter feeling over the dwarf, so knowing Leah had befriended him was not good news at all. But he let it slip away, just for her.

Days later, Leah found herself wanting to help in the castle, so she shyly asked Jareth for it. That's another thing he will never forget.

It was, perhaps, the third time in the five days she has been in the castle, that she had dinner with him. Leah normally would be very quiet, but she was right there sitting on the table some feet away from Jareth, asking if she was able to do some of the work along with the goblins.

"Are you getting bored?" Jareth simply asked, a light smirk forming on his lips.

Her face grew hot at his eyes lurking on her. "Maybe..."

"Tell me something you can offer me to have you working around," he told.

"I am interested in cooking, I can learn!"

Leah didn't know a single thing, more than her own name. Jareth tried to read her again after some time, and he just found her hesitant under his gaze. Jareth was very aware he was terrifying and he loved that, mostly because he spent years and years bored and defeated, but having Leah as a companion sometimes was interesting, just like that night.

"You can, certainly."

"Really?" the woman seemed to be taken by surprise.

"If that's what you want, you can go on. The goblins will help you with learning all you want to learn, and you can serve me."

"I will" A smile curled on her pretty face, and Jareth took a great liking to her determination.

He stayed within her thoughts, finding passion and happiness in her head, with so much anticipation of what she would learn. She didn't look past thirty human years, so it was quite curious for Jareth how she lost her memory. Jareth of course would find a way how to do that but decided to wait a little bit more. He got on his feet, his silver plate and the goblet were left empty as he walked toward Leah, who was still in her seat. His gloved right hand cupped her cheek and rubbed it softly with his thumb.

"Why don't you start now, clean the dining room," he ordered.

She felt the heat rising on her, not sure why he was provoking that type of reaction on her body and soul, but his touch, even when the glove was on, felt right and good. And Jareth, of course, noticed this. Leah nodded, holding his gaze, feeling hypnotized by his beautiful and deep eyes. A mischievous smile drew on his face before letting go of her and walking outside the dining room. Oh, she was going to be so much fun to be with.

#jareth #labyrinth #jareth x reader #jareth fanfiction #jareth labyrinth #jareth the goblin king #david bowie #david bowie fanfiction #labyrinth 1986 #labyrinth fanfic #jareth x female reader #jareth smut #jareth the goblin king x reader #jareth imagines #jareth imagine

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theysaidhush · 3 months

Text

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Chapter 1: Animal Farm

Pairing: Stray Kids x 9th member!OFC

Warnings:

I'll say this only once, this is the only warning you'll get. Future chapters will contain lot of smut (eventually) angst and fluff. Heavy topics will be discussed (idol life y'know) but I don't wanna spoil it. This story isn't for sensitive person? I don't know how to put it. Just don't read if you think you'll feel uncomfortable!

This is a x OC but will be tagged as a x Reader. I find it difficult to write properly about a character while worrying about making it inclusive and fitting my story. I don't really care about her name or physical apparence though so if you have any suggestion I'm up for it.

No pressure chill under the trees. Updates will not be regular as this story is solely for my entertainment and whenever I feel like writing it. Means that I'll keep on posting even if I don't have any feedbacks but also means that chapter lengths will vary to very short to more words. You can have many chapters the same day, depends on my life, but I don't really like short chapter so ill do my best.

"I am not being a pain in the ass."

"Yes you are."

"You kinda are."

Minho sent a chilling glance to the boy who was curled up next to him on the living room's couch. It was enough for Jisung to shudder. But the topic was serious, he wasn't about to change his opinion just because his hyung was giving him that look.

"No seriously, you really are."

"Okay."

Minho smiled and kept on doing what he was doing on his phone, ignoring everyone's stare - Jisung's stare particularly. The younger boy was looking intently at him, he was waiting for something, something he was sure his hyung would do. And he did. Like three minutes after. He blew through his nose, still looking at his screen.

"Ah! I knew it!"

"I really don't understand what's the problem. Has she done anything to upset you? We can talk it out like adults."

The couple on the couch looked up from each other and Minho stared at Chan intently yet silently. The leader couldn't really tell what was on the dancer's mind, and it was upsetting him to no extent. Any other day he would have brushed it off as Minho being Minho. The latter was a great friend, he almost considered him his brother, despite not knowing on the tip of his fingers the boy's small quirks and habits. It was a Jisung thing. But now, more than never, he wished he could know him a bit more, he wished for the other boy to let him in.

"I don't want to talk it out with you."

"Minho..."

Jisung's hush whispers was not a warning, yet, it felt like one. He was not scolding his Hyung, he was just trying to appease the tension. Chan's face was contorted in what people would consider anger, but Jisung knew better. He was frustrated.

"This is about the whole group, not just me. I didn’t come to you as a friend, Minho, I'm here as a leader."

And it might have not been the right thing to say. Because Minho frowned, and retreated into silence.

"What a mess." was Jisung's thoughts, his eyes drifting toward his leader’s, whose head was turned toward a silhouette standing in the hallway.

"No. You can't do this to us."

"You don't have a choice."

"We do! It's my group, our group, we've worked so hard to reach our goals and create the music that will fit us!"

Chan did not know what was more upsetting at the moment; the fact that he was having this conversation while he was sleep deprived - he would blame himself for that latter, saying that it was the reason he couldn't plead their case better - or the fact that he was even having this conversation.

"They've let you do your things, you know that Chan."

"No, they gave up on us, so we had to fight our way to the top! That's what happened."

The word 'top' was a far too big word for Chan, but one he had to use nonetheless to prove his case. They were enough. They were just fine.

"They..." his manager sighed and pinched his nose. The situation was getting out of hands and even he could not do a thing about it. But at the the end of the day, his job was on the line, and he had a family to feed. "They threatened to disband the group if you don't agree to the term."

"Just fine by then! We'll go elsewhere and keep on doing music together."

"You don't understand Chan, think it through! This is not a GOT7 type of situation, they'll take Stray Kids' name, your music, your brand and all that you've accomplished by yourself, and if you do try to prosecute them you'll lose. I've read the contracts, everyone's contract. You can't refuse."

"I can't - " Chan laughed and sat on his chair, running his hands on his face. "This is disgusting and despicable."

"I know, Chan, I'm sorry."

"They just want to make publicity, it'll bury us."

"I know..."

It was a one in a life time opportunity, the young woman really and truly understood that. She was considered too old to even sit in that room, she was told countless times. Yet, it did not change the fact that she was sitting in that room. The room where all important decisions were made.

She felt uncomfortable, growing uneasy, fighting the urge to scratch her skin off - one bad old habit. Her choices, her decisions; all of those were flashing in her mind like a broken tape, image and pictures of the times she spent practicing to be here - not that much, if you ask her.

Those people stare - those important people's stare was making her fidget in her sit, avoid eye contact. Were they testing her? Waiting for a particular reaction, the one which could get her out of here in a matter of seconds? The room was feeling too warm, she will sweat buckets if she doesn't go out. Right now.

"There you go. Miss?"

They did not even knew her name. It was a bit disappointing, but then again, she was just another someone wandering between those halls, wasn't she?

"Athéna."

"A- Axina..?"

"More like, Ah-thé-nah." she corrected their pronunciation with a soft voice, continuing, "You can google it."

But their glare was enough for her to shut her mouth and look at the ceiling. It was a fool idea to correct them, they were older, knew much more things than her. It was a little unnerving, this whole elder situation was a lot to get accustomed to in South Korea.

"Axina. Have you read the terms and condition of the contract?"

"I have."

"Any reclamation?"

She wanted to laugh at their face, but she couldn't. She did not had it in her to do that. So she nodded, pretending to be genuinely interested by their answer, even if she quite knew what they would say.

"Regarding the whole part of you managing my...image. I'd like to know if it concerns my hair too?"

"Yes, obviously. And your weight too."

Freezing cold in her bones. Was it because the window was opened? Or was it their stares? It was chilling nonetheless. It was sending her back into a period of her life where she had looked at her reflection days and nights to get a glimpse of her ribs and be satisfied with the view.

"Oh."

"You'll have to work on your Korean too, your pronunciation isn't that good."

"What are you?" another one asked, shifting through the page of the contract she had signed.

What she was. Not who. Not her nationality. But what.

"I'm French, mister."

"Great, it'll help with publicity oversea. Are you fluent in English?"

Why was she having this discussion with them?Wasn't she supposed to talk to the manager and the team helping Stray Kids? Why was she sitting in front of JYP's shareholder.

"I'm almost fluent. I've learned while traveling."

"What a shame. If she was prettier we could have scored partnerships with French luxury brands such as Dior or Channel."

"She'll be perfect for the role that will be given to her."

"I guess so."

"We're done with you."

Was it an animal farm? She never felt that disturbed by a conversation in her whole life. She shuddered, getting up from her sit as she grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt to pull on the lose strands. She couldn't help herself but rock back and forth on her feet - another bad habit of her that some even called weird.

"And stop doing that it's weird."

Chapter 2

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #poly!stray kids #stray kids angst #swan dive and she met the stars #idk how to tag this

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missvelvetsstuff · 9 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/missvelvetsstuff/719658565357420544/i-have-a-request-please-if-its-open

Thank you so much for taking my request.

So Steve and the reader met while he was on the run and he fell in love with her and Thanos blipped the people but she was there for him no matter what

He proposed to her before they got married Scott lang showed up and etc

Steve saw Peggy and started acting weird with the reader and after returning the stones he came back old asf😭

But the reader had a surprise for him (a pregnancy) what he wanted all those 5 years he spent with her and she got mad and he argued back saying he deserved after everything he did for the people😭 so she didn’t tell him about the baby and left

After a few months she was at the grocery store and ran into Bucky and his eyes were on her swollen belly and she saw the look on his face and said “yes it’s his baby” on the way to his apartment the thousands questions on his mind “did Steve knew his girl was pregnant? Why would he leave her? If i was him I would’ve never left her. Okay stop she is /was your best friend’s girl but he left her someone he once kissed.

There was a lot going on Bucky’s mind, so decided to locate her and find where she lives so he did find her and she was shocked to see it was bucky on the door

So he demand to help her and they became closer and more comfortable around each other and ofc Bucky told Sam about the situation and Sam told the old Steve 😤 and Steve tried contacting her but couldn’t but Sam told him where she lives and he saw his Best Friend and best girl kissing while she was carrying his baby he got mad and possessive/obsessive so he went back and came back younger you know take what was his before he got selfish and left🙄

You can add more angst I wanna cry😭

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to respond to your request. It took me a minute to flesh it all out and it'll be 5-6 chapters. Hope you like it.

This story was getting too long for me to manage so I've broken it up into chapters and will be posting each when I finish editing. I'm almost done writing so it should be posted by the end of the week. It's been a minute since I saw Civil War so please forgive me if I mess up any details.

Apparently I'm unable to write short blurbs or drabbles, sorry.

As always reader is female and above average height.

Hope y'all enjoy.

The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

1. Meeting

Warnings: swearing, angst

Y/N had watched the news about the Avengers fight in Germany. All the anchors calling it a 'civil war' but she was in NYC in 2012 and saw the aliens trying to invade. She knew that the world was less safe with the Avengers fighting amongst themselves.

After losing her brother in the Battle of New York she felt her mortality acutely so quit her office job, packed up her apartment and put everything in storage and left to see the world. She had no other family or close friends to keep her in the states and yearned for something different. At this point she had seen most of Europe but lingered in Ireland, entranced by its beauty and the wonderful people.

The bar in Dublin where she was working was quiet with only a couple of customers, typical for suppertime in the middle of the week, so she worked on inventory and organizing the storage room to make room for tomorrows delivery.

The bell rang and she went up to the front to see who was there. It was a couple, the man was taller than her and took off his cap as he walked in. He had broad shoulders and a tight t-shirt, sunglasses covered his eyes and he walked to the furthest corner booth, facing the door.

The woman, pretty with blonde hair, came up to the bar "4 shots of whiskey and 2 pints of Guinness." and handed her a bill "keep the change"

Y/N nodded "Thank you. I'm Y/N if you need anything else."

Y/N knew who they were even with their attempted disguises but she certainly wasn't going to help any crooked government catch some of the Avengers so kept her mouth shut.

The next night the captain returned with another man who was black and had an easy smile, obviously the Falcon. He came up to the bar to order their drinks and flirted a little with her.

This kept up for a few weeks. Always the Captain but he had a few companions that seemed to be on a rotation, Falcon, the Scarlet Witch and a tall slender blonde man that Y/N couldn't place. Black Widow hadn't returned since the first night.

One night the Captain finally took off his sunglasses and smiled at her which made her knees weak and stomach flip, he was beautiful. Every night after that he graced her with that smile. She wanted so badly to talk to him, outside of drink orders and thanks, but didn't want to intrude.

Then she saw something on the news about them being sighted outside of Dublin and they stopped coming in. She hoped they could avoid the authorities. When the pub was slow she daydreamed about the Captain coming back to sweep her off her feet in some grand romantic gesture and she would go on the run with him.

She laughed at herself for her childish fantasies but figured they weren't hurting anyone. It wasn't like she had men, or women, knocking down the door to her apartment above the pub.

A couple of months passed uneventfully and life stayed predictable. Until the Captain came back in by himself. She felt her heart speed up, butterflies swarming her stomach and a tingle in her core.

She smiled at him "Evening. Would you like your usual or are you feeling adventurous?"

He looked at her, right into her soul and smiled, making her feel faint. "I'll take a pint and..." He paused awkwardly and she waited patiently "and, your, uh your number?"

Y/N laughed and the Captain felt his heart clench, he hadn't seen anyone like her since...

"Are you sure? You don't seem like-"

He interrupted her, almost shouting "NO!" Realizing how loud he was he spoke softly, giving her a chill, when he said "I mean yes, definitely yes" and looked at her hopefully.

"How could any girl refuse a request like that?" and took his offered phone to put her number in, naming herself 'Barmaid'.

His grin grew until he realized something "You don't have an Irish accent. Where are you from?"

She laughed lightly "It's called an Irish brogue and I keep hoping it'll rub off on me but no such luck. It's been almost 2 years and some of my regulars tease that even an Irish brogue can't overpower a New Yawk accent."

"New York? Whereabouts? Brooklyn here."

She smiled knowingly at him "I already knew that, learned about you in school. I wrote a term paper about your friend Bucky Barnes."

Steve blushed and chuckled "When did you realize who I was?"

"The first time you came in with Natasha Romanoff, you were pretty easy to recognize. Don't worry, I won't sell you out. I've always been on your side."

Steve looked at her seriously "Not always on my side if you wrote a report about Bucky." He teased.

"I seem to recall you always being on the same side. I noticed you never bring him in, is he ok?"

Steve nodded, touched by her warmth and concern "Yeah, he's uh somewhere safe, getting help to get rid of the Hydra programming."

She smiled "I'm glad he's being cared for. What about you? Are you taking care of yourself?"

He sighed "Not many opportunities for that on the road. I'm more concerned about my friends, if we were caught....."

He left off and looked at his hands, not wanting to contemplate that possibility.

Y/N reached out to touch his cheek gently, smiling when he leaned into her hand, and pulled his face up to look at her. "You'll be in just as much trouble as they will." She cupped his other cheek "You need to take care of yourself too."

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying her soft touch. Feeling sparks where her skin touched his, a stirring in his groin making a small moan slip out. When he realized it, his eyes snapped open and looked into hers.

His eyes darted around the room, confirming that no one else was in the bar before he leaned forward until his lips brushed hers, his eyes fluttering closed.

Y/N could feel her heart racing, was Captain America really kissing her in a pub in Ireland? She moved her hand from his face to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

He smiled into the kiss and teased her lips with his tongue which she accepted and the kiss intensified until they were both out of breath.

Steve pulled back, smiling "I've been wanting to do that since the first night I came in."

She tskd him "And we've been wasting all this time? For shame Captain."

He leaned in to kiss her again before she put a finger on his lips. "I'm actually still on the clock but closing in an hour. If you want to hang out until I'm done, we can get some food and eat at my place." She asked holding her breath. She hadn't taken many men home since she stopped here but how could she not.

His grin grew and he blushed bright red as he nodded "Yes, absolutely."

They spent that night talking, getting to know each other in between making out and discovering each other's bodies.

The next few weeks they spent as much time together as possible, both dreading the time when he would have to move on.

One night a month after they first kissed, Steve came later than usual and she could tell he had something on his mind.

After she gave him his drink he grabbed her hand and looked at her sadly. She knew before he said anything. "You have to go, don't you?"

He tried to keep the tears in his eyes from falling and couldn't find the words so just nodded. After a few minutes he composed himself and spoke softly "I'm so sorry. I never meant. I can't find the words."

She nodded sympathetically and held his hand "I know Steve it's alright."

"No" he shook his head "It's not alright. None of this situation is alright but my time with you has been the only real peace I've had in, well ever really."

He pulled his hand away and stood suddenly "I'm sorry but I have to go. I'll try to come back soon."

She stood up and went up the stairs. When she came back she was on her phone. She finished her call and looked at Steve with a smile on her face, then grabbed his hand, a backpack in the other hand "So let's go."

Chapter 2

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #the wrong one

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radiowallet · 1 year

Text

Eyes Open - Chapter One

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: As the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno always seems to get stuck with the worst of the legislative duties, including dealing with the local police stations. The station secretary, Amy Oliver, quickly steps in, finding subtle and not-so-subtle ways to get Marcus the information he needs. WC: 2.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, eventually explicit.

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

>>> Chapter Two

A/N: Hello friends! It's been a very very very long time since I've posted a fic and needless to say, your girl is nervous. I've been hard at work on book prep and promotion, and in between all of that I have been plucking away at this story. I really wanted to write something fun and easy and self-indulgent. Thank you to everyone for reading!

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

----

Marcus is tired. The kind of tired that builds slowly, the feeling cresting higher and higher until it’s pulsing behind his eyes. The kind of tired that leaves him irritable and anxious, and ready to take it out on anyone or anything. His head is pounding, his body aching from the physical exertion of standing his ground for far too long. It had been what felt like hours of runaround from the chief of police; a semi-regular occurrence that he had grown far too accustomed to. The room was stuffy, the blinds pulled closed and the door shut tight, locking them in with the stale air and cigarette smoke. He fights the urge to tug at his tie, refusing to give the bullheaded ass sitting across from him the satisfaction.

Being leader of the Heroics came with quite a few headaches but the bureaucratic anxieties that came along with dealing with the local law enforcement was one of the biggest thorns in his side.

“Sir, the Heroics have always done our best to keep the lines of communication with your precinct open. But in order to achieve that, you’ll have to meet us in the middle.”

Chief Baldwin chuckles, the sound demeaning in more ways than one. He leans back in his chair, his heels making a heavy thud as they hit his desk. “As in break protocol? Skirt the rules? Allow vigilantes free reign in my precinct and my city?”

“I don’t see how my asking for a few unredacted case files is–”

“Forget it, Moreno!” He grins, making a show of picking up the very file Marcus had asked for. “You can go through the proper legal channels and you’ll take what I give you. Now get the hell out of my sight.”

Marcus turns where he stands and storms out, making sure to slam the door as hard as he can, the bland, generic art hanging on the wall rattling on impact. For a moment he doesn’t move, chest heaving and fists clenching, wishing he had something (or someone) to take this simmering rage out on. Just as he’s about to start walking again, intent on completing his righteous tantrum with a moniker of dignity, a soothing voice hits his ear with the smallest of peace offerings.

“Coffee?”

He turns to see Baldwin’s secretary staring at him from her desk, a stack of paper sitting in front of her, her pen poised above a signature line. His frown shifts, the tension melting from his shoulders as his head jerks out a nod and he falls into the seat beside her desk, the chair squeaking beneath the weight of him.

She doesn’t say anything else, instead gripping his shoulder once before standing and stepping away. He watches her from the corner of his eye, her movements precise as she pours him a cup of dark liquid. She tears open two sugars, adding them along with a splash of cream before finally setting the navy blue mug down in front of him. She pours her own, a chipped white mug with a worn-away police badge on the front, and returns to her seat, turning her quiet gaze in Marcus’s direction.

“You can say it,” she prompts, brown eyes watching him over the rim of her mug, the slightest hint of a smile curling along the corner of her lips.

“Your boss is a jerk.”

She doesn’t respond, but her smile shifts just a smidge wider. She takes a generous sip, humming as if she actually enjoys the taste of it. She sets her coffee to the side, and pushes up the sleeves of her cream-colored blouse, turning back to her stack of papers with renewed intent, jotting something down across the top of the page.

“The two of you have been doing this dance for years now. I’d think you’d be used to it.”

Marcus grumbles into his own coffee, refusing to respond, knowing full well how good of a point she’s making. Amy Oliver has, after all, had a front row seat to every argument between the Heroic and the chief of police from day one. She knew the pattern just as well as Marcus did, and after every instance of door slamming and name calling she was always there to help in her own way. She was one of the few people in the building who brought a smile to his face and he found that even when he knew there would be trouble, Marcus always looked forward to sitting at her desk and sipping her terrible coffee.

“Might be time to just end these little visits. Not like they get me anywhere.”

“Don’t joke,” she gasps, her over the top pout more than comical. “What would I do for entertainment around here without the two of you having your little pissing matches? My job?”

He rolls his eyes, but her smile is contagious, and before he can stop himself, he’s hiding his own behind his mug.

“Perish the thought.”

“The audacity,” she murmurs mostly to herself, checking another box with a bit too much flourish, her ponytail swinging from the effort. “How was your weekend? Did Missy end up going out with what’s his name? The one who’s death you’ve been daydreaming about?”

Marcus feels his smile slip at the change in topic, but Amy doesn’t miss a single beat. “She did! I love this! How did Marcus Moreno, leader of the Heroics, handle his baby girl going out on a date?”

“I’ll have you know I handled it great.”

The admission seems to finally have her full attention. She drops her pen and leans forward on her elbows, the tips of her fingers just grazing the tops of his thighs.

“Define ‘great’?”

Marcus swallows hard, ignoring the heat swirling deep in his belly, even as he feels himself lean, just barely, into her phantom touch. Amy, for her part, takes his silence in stride, reading between the lines of everything he doesn’t say.

“Let me guess? Sharpening those silly swords at the kitchen table when he came to pick her up? A stern reminder of curfew while also demonstrating superhuman strength? A text or two under the guise of ‘checking in’?”

He barks out a laugh at how keen her eye really is. “Alright, you got me! I may have leaned a little hard into the protective dad thing.”

“And I bet Missy was still home by curfew.”

“A few minutes early, actually. Not sure why I worry so much.”

Her hand is on his knee before he even has a chance to register the feeling, another comforting squeeze, there and gone faster than he can pull air into his lungs. “Because you’re a dad.”

He coughs and takes another sip of coffee, an action meant only to help slow his racing heart, and leans further back in his chair.

“How was your weekend?”

“Oh, big Saturday night. My mom sent Harris Candy Land. So, naturally we had to play it 5,000 times in a row.”

Marcus feels his chest fill with a different kind of warmth, picturing Amy and her 7 year old daughter going toe to toe over the same board game he and Missy would play night after night. She could downplay it all she wanted, but he knows that when given the chance to spend quality time with her daughter, Amy would play as many repetitive games as there were stars in the sky.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times she beat me, Marcus! I swear! This weekend I’m pulling out Monolopy and letting her taste my wrath.”

“Big words,” he teases, admiring the way her cheeks heat up beneath his own gentle ribbing.

When their snickers finally start to subside Marcus moves to refill both their mugs while Amy continues to work. She thanks him, easily splitting her focus in a way he’s always been jealous of. She checks a few more boxes and signs one paper after another, all the while never letting her bright eyes and impish grin stray from his attention. She doesn’t falter, even in the throes of her gentle teasing, and Marcus wishes he could spend the rest of his day sitting across from her.

And then, as if she can read his mind, “Can you stay for lunch today?”

“No,” he sighs, hating the taste of the word more than the shit Amy calls coffee. “I have to get back. The rest of the team will be waiting for me.” He takes one final sip of coffee before standing, knocking his fist against her desk in lieu of goodbye.

“Okay, well, can you toss these files in the shredder for me on the way out the door? I have to get a presentation set up for a briefing, and I’m already behind.”

“Of course,” Marcus agrees, accepting the stack of papers that she had been carefully chipping away at since he walked in this morning.

“Thanks, handsome,” Amy quips, turning back to the computer screen, the click of her mouse following him as he goes. When he gets to the shredder he stops and tosses one single piece of paper away, taking care to fold the rest in half before sliding them into the breast pocket of his jacket. Once outside, he walks quickly to his car, only stopping briefly to send a quick text.

M: Thank you

A: For what?

She always was a pro at playing dumb.

It would have been easy to mistake Amy as a wallflower, her eyes always pointed down, her lips seemingly sealed tight, fetching coffee and filing paperwork with zero complaints. She knew the precinct better than anyone, and though every cop in the building would rather die than admit it, she was the reason that place made any difference.

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a secretary was underestimated.

But it wasn’t long before she proved that very notion wrong, finding Marcus after his very first argument with Baldwin, pushing a crumpled piece of paper into his hand along with a crappy cup of station coffee. When he smoothed it open later that day, it was to find a list of suspects, hastily scribbled in Amy’s beautifully looped cursive.

Neither of them mentioned it again, but the tips kept coming, subtle and not so subtle alike. Case files meant for the shredder that never made it, heavy boxes carried to the evidence locker under the guise of a favor, and one hilarious time when a phone number had been penciled into five down on a Monday morning crossword puzzle. Each one had helped him avoid the legislative tape wrapped securely around police work, and Marcus was eternally grateful for all she did to help him and the other Heroics.

Even if he couldn’t tell a single soul.

M: Next time I’m around, lunch is on me.

Marcus tries not to think about how it’ll probably be a few weeks before he shows his face around the precinct again, especially considering the confidential information he had just been handed. It always felt prudent to keep a low profile after these run-ins with Baldwin. He picks up his pace, anxious to get back to Heroics headquarters and begin parsing through the case report tucked out of sight, his detective skills already thrumming to life with the potential of new puzzle pieces.

It’s another helpful distraction from the lingering memory of her comforting grip around his shoulder, the hint of her smile over the rim of a chipped coffee mug, the teasing lilt of sweet adorations that he knows don’t mean a thing.

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

Amy takes care to keep her eyes forward, watching Marcus over the top of her computer monitor, only catching a glimpse of his hands as he tosses away some of the pieces of paper she had handed him, and pocketing the rest. The transition is seamless, and she can’t help but swell with pride as the Heroic disappears completely from view, the front door of the precinct swinging shut behind him.

Her concentration is broken by another stack of papers hitting the corner of her desk. From the sound of the dull thud it gives, she already knows the rest of her afternoon is now spoken for. But, she reasons, at least it should help the hours tick by just a little bit faster.

“I swear. That Moreno. He just doesn’t know when to call it quits.”

She casts an eye over her shoulder at her boss, refusing to feel any sort of shame for being caught staring. It was hardly the first time she had let her eyes linger on the width of his shoulders or the cut of his jaw, unable to deny how handsome the man is. She was only human after all.

Today had been just like any other, Marcus’s righteous fury boiling away to reveal his tender heart, joking along with her as he slowly relaxed back into himself. Amy could feel the heat making a home in her cheeks, unable to look away from his plush lips as they formed around a laugh or the stretch of his skin as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. But for all her stolen glances and coy flirting, she knew she could never bear to ask for more, not willing to risk the precious friendship they’d built together over the years.

“You could try playing ball with the Heroics every once and a while.”

“He’s a bleeding heart, Oliver. Walking around with superpowers and worrying about petty police business. Best not to get too hung up on him.”

A bleeding heart is one way to put it.

A good man is another.

A rare find in a world full of men and women alike who were anything but. Amy had had her fair share of experience with those, Harris’s dad the best example she could conjure up. But it hardly mattered. He was gone and she and Harris were better off for it.

And if given the choice she’d gladly take Marcus’s bleeding heart over the man who walked out when there were two lines on the stick instead of one.

Derek stares down at her, dark eyes nearly piercing where they pin her in place. For the briefest of moments, white hot panic slices through her heart and she worries he’d seen the case report Marcus had slipped out of sight. But then he’s turning away, reaching for the coffee pot that lives behind her desk, pouring the last dregs of dark liquid into his cup.

“But we’re all on the same side. Right? Derek?”

Amy watches the older man for a minute longer, doing her best to listen to the steady beat of his silence for any lingering secrets. But Derek Baldwin has always been best at keeping things close to the vest, and his true feelings towards the Heroics were no exception. He taps two fingers on the stack of papers, his movement firm, his orders concise.

“Finish these up and then you can head out for the night.”

“Sir?”

“Take the afternoon. See your kid. You’ve earned it.”

Amy can’t help but smirk, ducking her head and pulling the papers close, anxious to finish up and head home.

If only he knew the whole truth.

Earned it doesn’t even begin to cover it.

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>>> Chapter Two

A/N: All my love and thanks go out to @jazzelsaur who has listened to me talk about these two (and silly book stuff) basically non-stop. Really, truly, I can't believe I get to call you my friend. How is that possible????

#marcus moreno fic #Marcus Moreno x ofc #Marcus Moreno #pedro pascal characters #Marcus Moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #wcbh #we can be heroes fic

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