#Does he have purpose in the story as is? Hell yeah he does

[jackass-jones]

Persona 3 reload should not entice me with those damn shiny bells and whistles!!!

[astro-g0re]

tempted to make a story that'd cause so much discourse on this app and would probably get me doxxed if it got noticed

[aliteralsemicolon]

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend. 

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only.  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk. 

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers. 

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it. 

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you. 

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored. 

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue. 

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today. 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful. 

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra. 

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe. 

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state. 

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror. 

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought. 

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”,  you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little. 

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around. 

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had. 

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?” 

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?” 

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.” 

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive. 

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone. 

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM. 

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything. 

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could. 

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him. 

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours. 

“Emily!” 

“Hey, how are you holding up?” 

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?” 

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue. 

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise. 

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself. 

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?” 

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that. 

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?” 

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place. 

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.” 

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off. 

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now. 

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.” 

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out. 

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?” 

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay. 

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon. 

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say. 

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided. 

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too. 

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?” 

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself. 

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern. 

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it. 

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?” 

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.” 

“Are you sure?” Emily asks. 

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason. 

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again. 

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?” 

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time. 

“I’m not.” You persist. 

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you. 

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.” 

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.” 

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.” 

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her. 

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark. 

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush. 

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay. 

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back. 

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.” 

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice. 

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy. 

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes. 

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.” 

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around. 

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start. 

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events. 

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer. 

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling. 

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly. 

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears. 

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand. 

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing. 

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to. 

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times. 

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second. 

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.” 

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other. 

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

[cherishedhope]

Dormleaders Reacting to Their Fanbase.

Genre: Crack?? I think it's crack. Not sure. Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus. Synopsis: How I think they would react to having so many fans, fanfictions, etc. A/N: I made this a little short. Sorry. :( anyway enjoy!! <3 Disclaimer: This is solely for entertainment purposes only. No hate to any of the ships mentioned!! Characters could potentially be ooc. Mentions of NSFW content but there isn’t actually any in the post. NOT proofread. A/N 2: Malleus’s part was inspired by a convo I had w @moonswolfie . Go follow her. Her twst stories are just- *chefs kiss* Requests: Open!

————————————————————

— He's a bit shocked that he has a whole ass fanbase. Like-?? What?? I mean, yeah, he's well-known around the school but not for good reasons. But to know that he has thousands of people who actually enjoy are obsessed with him is pretty flattering.

— Ace and Deuce are also just as surprised if not more so. Probably even questioning the tastes of the people in our world.

— Appalled when he sees a bunch of posts dissing his mom. (does find it comforting knowing all of them are on his side and seriously questions his upbringing.)

— Turns into a tomato at an impossible rate of two seconds when he sees that a LOT of people are shipping him with Trey. A bunch of screaming and incoherent stuttering. I don’t think he has ever thought of Trey as more than a friend before. (Ace is dying in the background.) — Cater has already warned him of the nsfw tags so Riddle steers FAR FAR FAR away from it. His brain is already having trouble processing that he has people that ADORE everything about him. He can’t handle reading himself being intimate with hundreds of people. He does read a fluffy fic or two.

— I feel like he would take notes of how he acts in the fanfictions so he can apply fanfic Riddle’s actions to himself.

— Art? People make art of him? — Feels a sense of pride when he looks at the drawings people make of him. He’s flattered!

— Flustered as hell, but also super happy about it. Whenever he feels down he’ll think about all the people that like him and he starts feeling a lot better. :)

— THIS COCKY MF

— HE IS SO SMUG ABOUT IT

— Considers building an entire empire of his own with you guys as his loyal, devoted subjects. Then ultimately decides not to because that’s too much work and not enough time for sleep. (Then again, we would probably understand. You guys wouldn’t dare question HIM, right??)

— Definitely rubs it in Malleus’s face the first chance he gets.

— He is watching every single edit of himself he can find. Y’all don’t understand how big of a stroke this is to his ego. His head?? It's bigger than a hot air balloon at this point. Who wouldn’t react that way if someone made edits of them? It is a huge ego boost!

— Finally, after so long, he isn’t referred to as “Falena’s brother.” No. He is Leona Kingscholar. People like HIM. Hell, he could start an entire army with all the fans he has!

— Nothing can ruin his day.

— …..

— Physically recoils when he sees the Malleus x Leona tag. Powers off his phone and then throws it against the wall. He has never been more disgusted and disappointed in all of his life.

— he still likes you guys!! dw. Just give him a couple minutes hours and maybe he’ll get over it.

— What?

— Sorry, yeah, no, he isn’t believing any of you. There is NO way people would willingly sign up for one of his contracts and enjoy it.

— Once he finally snaps out of Denial River, he is still in disbelief. That quickly gives way to him scheming and plotting on how to use this to his advantage.

— Is a customer acting rowdy after signing one of his deals? Trying to sue him over it? Well, now he has thousands of witnesses to back him up. No one can touch him now. He is the most powerful of all!

— Someone tries to attack him? Tweels, release the hounds.

— He is UNTOUCHABLE

— He's too shy to read the fanfics. And he doesn’t wanna look at the edits of himself either. It makes him cringe inside. Not because of them being made. No, the people creating them have great talent. But the reason is because it's him. — He gets curious after a while and does take a look at one edit. JUST ONE!

— And now he's hiding out in his octopot scrolling through as many as he can find. He cries seeing all the love he gets.

— He prints out some of the fanart and hangs it up in his room.

— Whenever he feels self conscious he looks at the edits and then he’s all smiles and as confident as ever.

— FANS?? HIM??

— EEEE!!!!

— :DDDD

— NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

— SCREAMING! JUMPING ALL OVER THE ROOM! SO MANY FRIENDS! KICKING HIS FEET AND GIGGLING! He wants to meet all of you!

— Feels obligated to read every fanfiction, like every fanart, watch every edit. Not because he wants to make himself feel good about it, but because he wants to see how talented you guys are! And he is not disappointed.

— Gets really sad when he realizes that he can't talk to any of you guys.

— :(

— JamiKali? What’s JamiKali? What's a ship??

— Nsfw?? What does that mean?

— It doesn’t take long for Jamil to take his phone away. He probably even puts restrictions on it so Kalim doesn’t get exposed to the more inappropriate side of his fanbase.

— He does not care.

— Flattered, sure, but not as excited as the others are. Yeah, it's surprising that people still worship the ground he walks on even in another world, but not too shocking.

— He scrolls through a bunch of fan arts and criticizes them. If it doesn't resemble him perfectly then he doesn’t care for it.

— Unironically calls you guys his “adoring” fans.

— Doesn’t even look at the fanfics. He already knows that he'll see things that aren't accurate to his character. (little does he know, a lot of people write him pretty well 😭)

— REFUSES to look at the ships. He doesn’t want to see people shipping him with Neige. He already deals with it from the fans in his world so he doesn’t want to see it in another.

— Most of his reaction to this is basically “um yeah, obviously I have a fanbase. 🙄”

— Like Azul, he also does not believe it. Him?? Why would someone as insignificant as him have a fanbase? You guys must have gotten knocked on the head or something when you were younger.

— Dies and ascends to heaven once he sees that people make fanfics/art/edits of him. HE IS EXPLODING WITH HAPPINESS. Holes himself up in his room and binges e v e r y t h i n g. He makes a collage of all his favorite fanarts and uses it as his wallpaper.

— Dies again when he finds out there are figurines of him. And plushies. And rings. And and and and.

— I think his favorite out of all of this would be the fanart. Have you guys seen Ignihyde stans?? Their art is literally gorgeous omksn

— His hair instantly transforms into pink flames when he spots the ships. Him with Azul? Him with Lilia?? Him with Silver?

— Considers each and every ship he sees. I doubt he can look the other person in the eye for a while.

— His self-esteem grows a lot bit so consider that a job well done for being an Idia stan 👍

— What is a fanbase?

— The only thing this man is going to understand is the art part of everything. He’s probably used to having his portrait done in Briar Valley, so that is the only thing his mind can figure out.

— Other than that, what is a “fan fic”? What is the point of moving pictures of him with upbeat music? A ship? Why do people keep saying he's in a ship with some random person from NRC? He is clearly on the ground by himself.

— After Lilia spends the next three hours explaining everything to clueless dragon boy, Malleus finally slightly understands what the internet is. (He still doesn’t understand ships.)

— So many new additions to the gargoyle club!! On the outside he appears calm and neutral but internally he is ecstatic and doing what humans call “running around the room screaming and crying.” There are so many humans that are interested in him droning on about gargoyles! Some even want to participate in the conversation!

— Sebek is in the background complimenting all of you for having good taste and following the young master.

— He's touched by the fact that so many humans are like Yuu and don’t find him intimidating at all and even look up to him as a father figure :) (Lilia failed to tell Malleus about what the “daddy” comments truly entail. )

— He does not care that you guys are in another world. He is gonna find a way to get into contact w y’all. He is NOT letting this many friends go to waste. 😤😤

[chuuyasheaven]

Lovely wife on the surface, freak under the sheets !! (Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya)

TAGS. F. Dostoevsky, D. Osamu, C. Nakahara (separately) / Wife! Fem! Reader, p in v, oral sex, Fyodor’s might not be as spicy as the other two, masturbating (Fyodor), teasing, pet names, slight praise and degrading, slight brat taming (Fyodor, Chuuya), breeding kink (Chuuya), mentions of getting prego (Chuuya), might have grammar errors, etc.

NOTES. First two finals were good, yesterday in the english one, there was a task of writing a story and guess what I did? I wrote a cringy angsty soukoku fan fic 😭 but yeah small Drabble to feed y’all pookies!!!

F. DOSTOEVSKY

Everyone thinks you and Fyodor are a good match, because look at you! His pretty little wife who does everything she’s told, never thinking of saying ‘no’ to her husband.

But sometimes, you like being a little disobedient just to get punished by him. So that’s why you probably were fingering yourself, the cold wedding ring adding more to the pleasure. When Fyodor caught you, your legs were spread and your wet cunt was on display for him, so he obviously knew that you let yourself get caught on purpose.

“Such a naughty little wife, hm?”, Fyodor hummed as he slowly let his finger drag across your wet folds, picking up your wetness. “My, my, look at how wet you are, darling. Couldn’t even wait for me to come back, no? You know your fingers aren’t good as mine.”, he was right, his pale, long slender fingers could reach spots you never could on your own. “I know, but you took so long!!”, you whined, “Please help me out, Fedya.”, Fyodor chuckled, two fingers, going around your dripping cunt to avoid it. “I don’t know, a naughty wife who doesn’t follow her husbands orders shouldn’t get the pleasure they crave.”, wasn’t he right though? He specifically told you not to pleasure yourself when he wasn’t around, didn’t he?

“C’mon, Fedya, please!”, you begged him, moving around to get his fingers to touch your cunt at least once. “So desperate, aren’t we?”, he teased, a smirk making it on his face. “I’ll never do it again, promise. . You were gone for too long and I just missed you! Please, please, please, Fedya! Need your fingers in me.”, aw that’s cute, maybe he should give in to your pleas? “Do you think you deserve it, my dear?”, you better not lie and say something he didn’t wanna hear. “No but I’ll make it up to you! I will earn it.”, Fyodor really didn’t think of this answer, but went with it either way. “You’re gonna earn it?”, you nodded and sat up. “Promise.”, He was satisfied with that.

“Then come and earn it, love.”

D. OSAMU

Dazai wasn’t the possessive type, but when it came to you, his wife, then he might be. Especially when a man was flirting with you, even though you clearly have a ring on your finger! Luckily for you, Dazai was with you when this happened earlier. All that happened because of the dress you had on, a dress which was hugging your figure nicely, hell, if he didn’t know any better he would be flirting with you too!

Well, bless the heavens and the above for catching you before anyone else did, because you feel way too good than you should, he also had the privilege of ripping the very same dress of off you.

“You look way too sexier than you should, ‘donna.”, Dazai was working his tongue on your cunt, sending light vibrations to it by talking to you. You just nodded, being a little spent because this was going on for two rounds straight. “Oh, so you agree?”, he asks you, his hot breath moving further away from your cunt. “No, Dazai— don’t stop!”, you whined, but Dazai just chuckled deeply. “I gotta disagree with you on this one, sweetheart. . I think you’re rather divine, your taste especially.”, this teasing asshole, why was he asking you questions instead of making you cum for a third time. “My beautiful wife, thinking she isn’t sexy. . Maybe I need to convince her?”, Dazai was standing up, giving you the illusion of depriving you of your— much deserved in your opinion —orgasm. But no, he was far from done with you.

The amount of bliss you felt when he pushed his cock in you, nearly screaming of how sudden it was to you. “I think I already know how to.”, his hips started moving against yours while his hands were holding onto yours. Your moans were pulled from you again, you grabbed the sheets in the amount of pleasure he made you feel.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. . Just keep being such a good wife for me, ‘kay?”

C. NAKAHARA

Before your husband, Chuuya, came through the door, you were backing him a small cake. Just like a good wife should, also wearing a cute apron with the saying “Kiss the chef”. All went well so far and Chuuya walked through the door, not to greet you, that is.

You are a good wife, but sometimes you can be a little deceiving. A prime example being those photos you sent Chuuya at least a hour before his work ended, photos which included you in his favorite lace lingerie with the caption “miss you”. And what was your reason? Just to tease him a little, maybe a little motivation to work faster to get home earlier.

He was impatient, he’s been waiting for a hour to get home to you, just to not even get to the bedroom. That’s right, he was gonna take you right at the kitchen counter. Chuuya took off your shirt to see you were still wearing the set, a smirk was curving up on his lips. “You’re still wearing this, doll?”, he asked you, since you were bent over the counter he couldn’t see your smile on your face, but he could hear your giggle. “Yeah, just for you.”, you admitted in a teasing tone. “Just for me? Well then allow me. .”, he replied, pulling your lace panties to the side.

Chuuya wasn’t going slow at it, he was basically going so fast and hard that the counter legit started to shake slightly. His hips slapping against your ass, your moans filling the kitchen along side by his groans and breathy cursing. “Couldn’t wait for me to— mhm, fuck —to come home, hm? Sendin’ me photos of you looking so perfect sayin’ you miss me.”, he groaned, all you replied with was a moan. “Such a little slut, you jus’ wanted to get fucked, didn’t you? Teasin’ me at work just for a good fuck.”, Chuuya could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt clenching around him only sped up the process.

“Ch–chuuya— ngh!”, you moaned out his name in bliss, Chuuya sped up the pace. “Want me to cum inside you, baby? Want me to fill you up so fuckin’ good?”, he asked in a low mocking tone, waiting for a response from you. “Y–yes! Ah— please!”, his cock twitched when you gave him the permission. “Yeah? Gonna fill you up so much you’ll be leakin’. . ‘till you might get pregnant.”, he didn’t really mean it, did he? It was all in the heat of the moment, right? Nonetheless, it turned you on with the way he said it. A deep chuckle was heard from him as he felt you clench down again. “You like that, doll? You wanna get pregnant with our child— oh fuck —you’re squeezin’ me so tight. . You sure you want it?”, you repeatedly moaned a yes, making him smirk. “C–cumming!”, you almost screamed, the amount of pleasure being a bit overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that. . Take it like a good girl, baby. Hm— keep clenchin’ like that so nothin’ spills, understood?”

Hi again 😋 hope y’all are well fed now :3

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Until i found you." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

You always felt lost, adrift, until you found him. Oddly enough, Daryl always felt the same way, until he found you. From the moment you two met until your life together in Alexandria—quite a story.

A/N: Just a short imagine. Hope you like it!

Daryl Dixon is a strong man, to fight, to survive, to protect. But in the past, Daryl was a reckless young man with nothing to lose, without big emotions, bottling everything up so as not to feel too much—Until he found his person, a purpose, a reason to want to see the sun rise one more day, until he found you. You were always a flight risk, scared to feel too much too, until one night, you flew away from that place called "home", landing in that seedy bar forgotten by God himself, the place where you met him.

Daryl was attractive, very attractive to a point where it must have been forbidden to look like that, with his broad shoulders, his long dark hair that made him look like a goddamn rock star, with his strong arms that his shirt showed off mercilessly. But young Daryl Dixon looked lost. Adrift. Without a sense of direction—just like you.

“I’m actually running away from daddy.” You answered his accusatory question, so calmly that it caused some astonishment in Daryl, although he didn’t show it. “Daddy was forcing me to marry the son of a mobster or something like that, a rich guy who would forgive daddy the debts he started to have after his gambling addiction started, so his little princess ran away from home taking with her his only chance to get out of that debt alive. However, I don't hate my daddy or have any kind of daddy issues, but I hope he gets what he deserves for trying to sell me like a fucking thing.” You smiled, mocking him, challenging him to say something witty after that revelation. “What do you think about that, Daryl? Pretty surprising, huh?”

“Shit… M'sorry. That sounds pretty fucked up.” He said breathlessly, looking at you with an almost sad expression. Then, Daryl fell into a heavy silence, but he could tell you were feisty, fighting to keep yourself alive, like a force of nature. “Well, if it helps, there’s a couch in ma apartment. S’old as fuck, but it does the job.”

The way you looked back at him was almost overwhelming, so deep as that color of your gaze, but you could say Daryl meant it. The color of his eyes, blue like a new kind of ocean, were beautiful and transparent, but dangerous with that warning that you could drown in them if you weren't careful.

But to his surprise, you agreed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I really don’t have anywhere to go and you don’t look like a serial killer… well, maybe a little.” You chuckled, earning a scoff from him that made you laugh some more. “But I studied to be a vet, so if you try anything, I’ll just tell you that I know exactly where to cut you to make you bleed out. And I also have a hell of an aiming: I swear, if there is ever an apocalypse, this will save my life.”

Daryl blinked.

“Ya shittin’ me.”

You shook your head, hiding a smile.

“No, pretty boy, I’m not kidding.”

He scoffed, just to hide the slight nerves that being called that made him feel.

“Okay. Let’s go then.” Daryl stood up, taking a few bucks to pay for his drink and yours before you could do it yourself. “This is on me. Ya can pay the next one.”

Saying no more, he walked away first, leaving you alone and thinking what he meant by that. But when the girl in the bar gave you a silent look, like she was screaming at you while asking you if you were really going with him, you shrugged before grabbing your backpack and leaving the bar, too.

You two were like an unlikely duo, but maybe that's why you both looked good together. Even Merle, the asshole, said that when your one–day stay turned into a week, although to shut him up you told him the apartment needed some color so you didn't mind painting the walls red with his blood, with the gun you stole from your father. He loved you after that. And eventually, you got a job, helped pay the bills, and even cooked for everyone—forming a very strange family.

You and Daryl were quiet, always watching each other when the other wasn't looking, but it all felt like tiptoeing, on shaky ground, silently so as not to scare the bird. However, your “relationship” started with some drunken kisses, drinking Merle's alcohol to get the courage to take the first step. And you two continued like that for a while, without a title, moaning and grunting in each other's lips inside his room that was yours now.

Until one afternoon, a song popped in the radio.

Oh, I used to say, I will never fall in love again, until I found her. I said I would never fall, unless it’s you I fall into…

And like that click that two pieces made when they fit together perfectly, your feelings made more sense then, as if the panorama was clear, as if life had decided to unite all those words that didn't make any sense separately, but together, they explained everything, about you, about Daryl, about the fear of falling in love, until life, God, or whoever you believed in, left in front of you that someone you desperately needed, who, despite his own pain, showed you that people deserved to be loved completely or not at all.

There was no middle ground, because love didn't work halfway.

And you found a shelter in his arms, a real home with him: especially after a new world arose when the dead began to rise too.

Now, you are 6 months pregnant, with a bladder that is used as a soccer ball, and a baby (that was being cooked in your belly as Daryl used to say) who woke you up at odd hours demanding something to eat: so you have to listen.

When the moon takes its place at the top of the diamond sky and while the wind brings the last airs of the cold winter, the candle in the center of the dining room table keeps you company, and it's as if the silence mixes with the chorus of thoughts traveling at a thousand miles an hour inside you, along with the images your mind tries to make when you think about what the baby will be like when she or he is finally born. And it's terrifying to think about that again, but there's also a liberating emotion that allows you to stand firm on the ground, tall and strong despite your fears, with a fighting spirit that holds you up like gravity to the earth.

But between the shadows of the house that the candlelight tries to fight, you can see Daryl coming down the stairs, wearing those loose grey sleep pants even when he kept saying he looked stupid in them, shirtless, with those broad shoulders and the tattoo on his chest. It is a hot picture, kind of dirty because he is hot, older but too hot still, maybe that's why you let him get you pregnant.

However, when Daryl reaches the dining room as you finish the second brownie, you can see clearly his brow furrowed even though some of his long hair covers part of his forehead.

“Sup?” You joke, with a small nod.

“Sup? Really?” His voice is always low, deep, but in the middle of the night, it grows even deeper. “The fuck are ya doin’ here alone?”

“I’m eating, isn’t that obvious?” Using your head, you point towards the new brownie in your hand, trying to contain your laughter at his constant overprotectiveness. You loved that, but sometimes he treated you like you were suddenly made of porcelain. “And you?”

Daryl scoffs.

“Me? Jus’ woke up and saw that ma very pregnant wife ain’t where she should be.”

You chuckle.

“Daryl, I’m pregnant, but I still can use my legs to come down and eat in the middle of the night when the baby demands. If you have any complaints with she or he, please put them in writing, but I can tell you that there is a waiting list of approximately 3 months.”

He tries, he tries really hard no to laugh at the silly joke, but in the end, Daryl chuckles as he pulls the chair to seat on the corner of the table.

“I see ya’re feeling better, sweetheart, considerin’ how grumpy ya were this afternoon. But if ya get hungry when ya’re in bed, ya can jus’ tell me, y’know? I can bring ya up whatever ya need. And where ya got those damn brownies from?”

“Carol made them. Even when you told her to stop feeding me so much sugar.” You take a bite before answering, earning another scoff from him. “You look very domestic with those pants; you know?”

Daryl lets out a small grunt of frustration.

“I look stupid, but this is more comfortable than sleepin’ with jeans.”

You nod, thoughtful.

“You can always sleep in boxers.”

Hearing your words, Daryl chuckles.

“Ya are pregnant and yet ya’re tryin’ to get into ma boxers.”

You chuckle, too.

“I was just making a comparison!”

“Oh, yeah?” The corner of his lip curves into a smirk. “Then ya got to know I don' sleep in ma boxers anymore so ya don’ try to ravish ma body in the middle of the night. Yer poor husband jus’ wants to sleep while ya try to make him uncomfortable when ya pressed yer body against mine all night.”

Half surprise, you laugh.

“I get cold at night, you asshole! That's what I get for having to carry your baby.”

Daryl chuckles, placing his elbow in the table to hold his chin in his hand, closing his eyes as he tries to fight off sleep.

“Jus’ finish feedin’ the baby so we can go back to bed.”

You take another bite before talking again.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m stayin’.” He says, barely a second after you finish speaking.

You shrug even though he's not looking, eating another brownie that probably won't let you sleep, but the baby kicking your organs won't either, so. And for a moment, lost in your own thoughts, you miss the way Daryl opens his eyes after a while, taking in all of you.

You're wearing a loose white t-shirt, but somehow, that piece of clothing, which doesn’t show your figure at all, makes you look younger, like the person he met in the bar that night—your hair is tied in a half ponytail, the rest of it falling over your shoulders and back. But Daryl loves that until that day, you stand out in that world too, and it’s like seeing a brilliant sapphire among a pile of discolored rocks. And for a moment, an overwhelming nervousness takes over Daryl when you lock eyes with him, feeling that young man you met years ago.

“What?” You chuckle.

“Ya’re beautiful.”

He just says it like that, and you smile a little bit, trying to hide your shyness.

“Thank you, love.” You say softy. His voice is deep but is soft, honest, like the beginning of your story, and with your plate empty, you wipe any crumbs from your mouth before standing up. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."

There, when you both reach your bed, you stroke his hair, his hand on your belly. Daryl stays in that position almost all night, eyes closed to focus only in the sensations, remembering the first night when he fell asleep with his head on your chest, with your hand caressing his scalp, a gentle massage with your soft fingers. And now, he can still feel that and the baby's movement.

Yeah, you were a flight risk, until you found him.

[minisugakoobies]

The Purrfect Crime | HJS

Pairing: Joshua x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, angst (tiny bit?), crack , non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: neighbor is implied to be a horrible pet owner but i promise there is no abuse here, catnapping, they're idiots and they're in love, so much pining, that trope where you have to kiss someone in order to fool someone else, apparently it's called a fake-out make-out thanks true tropes wiki, i don't even know where this sudden need to write a soft joshua came from but enjoy

Word Count: 3.2k

Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Fed up with the way your neighbor is keeping your friend/his ex's cat just to spite him, you hatch a plan to rescue the poor creature. Naturally, your best friend (and crush) Joshua is in for the mission.

Text Prompt: in italicized pink font in the story

A/N: It took me a while to find a text prompt for Joshua, but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was his. Thank you to @minttangerines and @kiestrokes for taking a look at this one and reminding me that variety is good.

If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Rrrrrow. Mmmmrowwwrrr.” 

“Oh, not again,” you mutter to yourself, rising from your couch to trudge to your back door. It’s starting early tonight.

You can barely see into the yard next door, but you spy a fluffy grey and white tail bobbing around. There he is. Your neighbor’s cat, yowling to be let inside, like always he does. The pitiful creature lets out another cry, and your heart twists. You know from years of living here that the jerk next door won’t be home for a while, so poor kitty is stuck outside in the rapidly cooling autumn air. Probably hungry for his dinner.

Well, you’ve had about enough of this. As you stand there, watching the cat’s tail swish in the air, the barest puff of an idea sneaks into your head. Before you can stop it, it blooms into a full-tilt plan. 

You’re already in motion when your phone buzzes with a text. Normally, you’d ignore it, but it’s your favorite person on the planet. 

Shua: whatcha doin

You: stealing my neighbor’s cat

Even though your best friend is famously down for any sort of drama, his response is so ridiculously fast that it makes you smile. 

Shua: scandalous

Shua: can I help

You send him a brief description of your plan, and he shoots back that he’s already on his way.

There’s a knock on your day exactly twenty minutes later, proof that he wasn’t lying. When you open the door, Joshua takes one look at you and points, nodding. “Yes, good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

He’s referring to the fact that you’re both dressed completely in black, head to toe. The only difference between you is that he’s got a cute beanie shoved over his hair, a few strands hanging down in his eyes as he smiles at you. 

“I worried maybe I was taking this too seriously.” 

“Oh, no, this is very serious,” you inform him, leading him through your townhouse to the back door. “I’m really about to rescue Mr. Meepers from that asshole.” 

“Hell yeah, you a- wait, did you say Mr. Meepers?”

“Yes, I did, and yes, I know,” you laugh. 

Junhui, your horrible neighbor’s amazing ex-boyfriend, might not be the best when it comes to naming pets, but he’s a very sweet guy. While he and Mr. Asshole Next Door adopted the cat together, it was always very clear that he was Jun’s cat, and Jun’s cat alone. It breaks your heart to know that Mr. Meepers is being kept hostage solely for the purpose of punishing Jun for leaving that asshole.  

“He’s such a cute kitty, though, so friendly and playful, and Junhui’s really upset that he can’t get him back. That asshole won’t return his texts anymore. And the one time Jun showed up, he wouldn’t even answer the door.”

You pause to look out the window. Your yard and the one adjoining to the left are clear - or, at least as much as you can see over the fence seems empty.

“It’s bad enough that he won’t give Jun his pet back, but I know this jerk doesn’t take good care of him. He’s always locking him out in the yard. Doesn’t matter the time of day - I hear him out there all the time, crying and clawing at the patio door.” You frown. “Doesn’t matter what the weather’s doing and he doesn’t leave any water out for him, either. Just throws him outside and locks the door.”

As you ramble on, Joshua’s expression darkens. “I knew your neighbor was an asshole, but damn. That’s fucking cold.” He tips his head as another mournful “mrrrrooowww” sounds. “Is that him?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“He sounds so sad. How can that guy not care?”

“I dunno. Guess it’s easy to ignore innocent animals when you don’t have a heart.” You square your shoulders, steeling yourself for what you’re about to do. “Thanks to that loud-ass engine on his piece of shit car, I know when that asshole gets off work. He always stops at a bar on Friday nights, so he’ll be home later than usual, but we don’t have a lot of time to do this. Might not be a great idea to do it now, but…”

“But Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to suffer any longer. I get it.” Joshua squeezes your arm, bolstering you a little with his comforting touch. You smile at him gratefully, and he grins back before clearing his throat and turning to the window. “So. We’re gonna go out there and get him.”

“Right.” 

“Right. So… how exactly are we gonna do that?” 

“With some loose fence planks and these.” You reach into the pouch of your hoodie and pull out a small crinkled bag. “Mr. Meepers loves tuna treats. I toss them over the fence whenever I see him out there.” 

“Of course you do,” Joshua hums, shaking his head. He loves to tease you about how soft-hearted you can be, but you’d argue he’s just as gentle and kind as you are. He simply hides it better - except when he’s around you. You’ve yet to figure out if it’s intentional or if your friendship is the chip in his armor, allowing you to see through to the real him. 

“Well, Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to sit out there all hungry because that jerk doesn’t actually want him. All he wants is to hurt Jun.” There’s no real need to explain yourself, but you do it anyway. Joshua’s hand brushes your arm again and you inhale a calming breath. “Okay. Time’s not stopping, so let’s do this. Are you ready?” 

Joshua gives you a nod. “Let’s go.” 

Leaving your back door open a crack, in case you need to make a hasty retreat, the two of you set out on your mission. 

Your neighborhood is typically pretty quiet this time of evening. There’s the sound of kids playing in their yard a few doors down, and the usual buzz of traffic on the main road two blocks over, but nothing loud enough to cover your footsteps as you crunch through the grass and fallen leaves lining the fence that separates your yard from your neighbor’s. The moon is already out, and a few stars dot the sky, but you still need the flashlights on your phones to give you enough light to keep from tripping over anything in your path.

Joshua insists on being the one to try to pry the boards off the fence. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to pull a few away, a fact that makes him cluck his tongue. “This is so unsafe, YN. Your landlord needs to fix this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” You’ve got a whole list of breaking or broken items for the landlord to repair. It’s the effort - and, especially, the time - that it takes to call and wait around for him to show up that you don’t have. “I’ll get around to calling him someday.” 

“I’m being serious,” Joshua insists, the concerned furrow of his brow evident even in the dim glow cast by his phone. “It’s not safe. What if someone gets in this way? Like a burglar? Or - or worse?”

“Well, they’ll have to get into asshole’s yard first to get to mine this way…” The odds of someone breaking into your home via this now person-sized hole in the fence are incredibly low. But you’re not going to argue about it at the moment. Not when you can hear the worry in your friend’s voice. “You’re right. I’ll call him next week. After we’ve made sure Mr. Meepers is safe with Junhui.”

“Good. It’s just… I can’t even think about what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

Joshua’s look of relief is enough to send warmth flooding through your chest, but combined with his words, it has your heart launching into frantic palpitations. Quickly, you duck through the space in the fence, needing to move away from your friend for fear that he might be able to feel the fluttering. You’ve spent the better part of two years hiding your crush on your friend. No need to give yourself away now. 

A bright light suddenly clicks on.

“Crap!” you gasp. In a burst of panic, you dive back towards the gap in the fence, only to find Joshua there. He lets out a surprised cry as you crash into him, knocking him flat on his back, another tiny “oof” forced from his lungs when you land on top of him. “Sorry!”

“What are yommmmph-”

“Shhhh!” 

You press your hand over Joshua’s mouth and glance over your shoulder. Your neighbor’s yard is still, nothing that you can see through the hole moving except for some unkempt bushes swaying in the chilly evening air.

You sigh. “Sorry. I forgot he’s got a motion detector light. I panicked.” 

Joshua hums, the brush of his lips tickling your fingers, and you remove your hand with an embarrassed laugh. Now that your fright has passed, you’re painfully aware of your current position, lying chest to chest, hip to hip on top of your best friend. His arms are locked solidly behind your back, cradling you to him as if he’s still trying to break your fall. 

It’s impossible to turn away when he looks at you, even though your heart is twisting itself into knots, so filled with longing that it’s tying you up inside. The longer you gaze into his eyes, the more your heart aches. 

Completely unaware of the inner turmoil you’re currently facing, Joshua grins. “Next time we steal someone’s pet in an act of righteous retribution, maybe I’ll be the one to gather the important intel first. Like motion lights.” He laughs, and you can feel it through your chest against his. Your heart twists again. “You can be the muscle, with a tackle like that.” 

“Shut up,” you groan, trying to gracefully slide onto the grass beside him, without success.  “I didn’t hit you that hard.” 

“I don’t know, I think I’m gonna be feeling that tomorrow.” He rubs his left shoulder gingerly, but he can’t fool you. You smack his other shoulder and he gives up the bit, laughing. “Fine, fine, you’re not the muscle. But I’m definitely the brains of this team.” 

“Pffft. If you’re anything, you’re the face.” 

“The what?” 

“You know. In a heist crew, the face.” You stand up, brushing some dry leaves from your hoodie. “The smooth talker? The one they send in to charm a target. That’s you.” 

“Oh.” Joshua’s eyebrow rises as he considers your words. “Um, thank you?” 

“You’re welcome. It’s a compliment.” 

“Is it?” He cracks a grin when you lightly punch his shoulder again. “Sounds like a weird way to call me manipulative.” 

“Don’t read into it so deep,” you state wryly. “I only meant that you’re, like, a fast thinker. And good at talking to people.” And incredibly charming. Joshua’s had you wrapped around his finger for ages. Thank god he doesn’t seem to know it. If he ever realized his true power over you, he’d be totally insufferable. And you’d still do whatever he wanted.

“Uh-huh. But if it’s all about me being good at talking, then why is it called the ‘face?’” 

He would ask that. 

“Um… most of the time the face is also really good-looking. It helps, y’know, to sell the lie if it’s coming from a pretty face.”

“Pretty?” His fingers fly to the bottom of his beanie again, tugging it down further. A nervous habit of his. 

”Well, yeah,” you say, shrugging. “You are very pretty.” 

You ride the surge of adrenaline in your veins forward and step through the hole into the yard next door before Joshua can react. 

It turns out to be a blessing that your neighbor has a motion light. His backyard is an obstacle course of rusty lawn furniture, neglected plants, and overgrown tufts of weeds. Carefully, you wind your way towards the patio, only to realize that Mr. Meepers is no longer sitting there.

“Mr. Meepers?” you call out in a hushed yell. “Where’d you go?” You must’ve spooked the cat with your wild dive earlier.

“He couldn’t have gotten out of the yard, could he?”

“I don’t know. I always figured he couldn’t or he would’ve run away by now.” Taking the treats out of your pocket, you give the bag a shake. “I brought you some of your favorite num-nums!”

“Your favorite num-nums?” Joshua echoes incredulously. 

“Shut up or I’ll tackle you again,” you mutter, catching his smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Here, Mr. Meepers!” 

You shake the bag of treats again and a bush near the edge of the patio rustles in reply. Mr. Meepers comes striding out, tail flicking happily as he brushes against your outstretched fingers. 

“Mmmrowww,” he chirps.

“Hi buddy,” you reply, scratching his ears lightly. “Here are your num-nums as promised.” Mr. Meepers nibbles on his treats as you stroke your fingers over his soft fur. “This is gonna be the last time I’ll give you these. You wanna know why? Hmm? Because we are busting you out of here and taking you home! Doesn’t that sound good?” 

The cat purrs loudly, nosing at the bag in your hand, and you cave, giving him a few more treats.

“No wonder Junhui’s been so sad. You’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you?”

“So cute.” 

The words are whispered breathlessly, so quietly you’re almost not sure you heard them right. You glance up at Joshua, only to find your friend staring at you with a curious look on his face, an expression that you can’t quite name but it makes your pulse jolt regardless. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he suddenly straightens up, shaking his head a little.

“We, uh, we should probably not linger here,” he says, fingers clutching at his beanie. 

It almost defies belief how quickly his words jinx the two of you. You’re about to pick up Mr. Meepers when you hear it - the sound of your neighbor’s front door opening.

“Fuck, he’s home!” you hiss. Fast as you can, you scoop Mr. Meepers into your arms, thankful that he trusts you enough not to fight. Joshua holds out his hand to help you up and you stumble clumsily to your feet, apologizing when you bounce off of him. 

“Forget it, just go!” 

Joshua’s fingers lace through yours as the two of you scramble madly towards the hole in the fence. He reaches it first, but doesn’t go through, urging you on, his hands pushing gently on your back the whole time. As soon as you’re clear, he pops through behind you. 

Mr. Meepers chooses that moment to start squirming. He wiggles out of your grip somehow and drops delicately to the ground. For a split second you’re afraid he’s going to bolt through the hole, but instead he darts across your lawn and into your open door.

Before you can follow, you hear the loud creak of your neighbor’s back door opening. You and Joshua both flatten yourselves against the fence, desperate not to be seen. 

“Dinner time, dummy!”

There’s a spike of anger in your anxiety. You really hate your neighbor. He doesn’t wait long for the cat to respond to his call, slamming his screen door shut a few seconds later. 

A few excruciatingly long seconds after that, the light goes out. Everything is quiet again, save for your slight hyperventilating.

You blink a few times. “Oh my god, I thought we wer-”

The screen door next door opens again. 

“Yo, dummy, where are you? It’s time to come in!”

Your neighbor’s head pops up over the fence as he walks out onto his patio.

Joshua grabs the rotten planks and shoves them back into place. In his race to cover up the hole, though, he’s a bit too careless, and pinches his thumb. “Shit!”

You freeze. 

“Mr. Meepers?” the asshole next door calls out. “Stupid cat, what are you getting into?”

You can’t breathe. The threat of being caught now when you’re so close to victory makes your heart skip several beats in fear. Then Joshua’s gaze meets yours, and your heart positively leaps as he springs into action, pressing you against the fence. 

“Just go with it,” he whispers. He doesn’t give you a chance to process his words before he’s cupping your face, and then he leans in and kisses you. It’s a little hasty, a little rushed, like desperation propels him forward. But when his hands drop to your waist, bringing the two of you closer together, you relax into one another. The kisses turn slow, lingering.  

Your eyes slip shut as you breathe him in, citrus and cardamom, his cologne so warm and sweet, just like his kisses. He’s covering your body with his own like he’s shielding you. Protecting you. You could simultaneously shout for joy and cry. 

“What was tha- oh - oh shit, ‘m sorry - “ 

Your neighbor’s voice sputters into silence, and then a few seconds later, the light goes out. Joshua keeps kissing you, arms on either side of your head, but his caresses are more playful now, teasing nudges of his nose against your cheek, tiny pecks on your lips. 

“Joshua.” You speak his name intending to ask what he’s doing, but it comes out like a whine. You’re flustered and Joshua laughs, clearly enjoying it.

“I don’t think he’s looking anymore,” he deadpans, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he cups your face.

“Okay,” you reply, leaning in for another kiss. Joshua’s laughter vibrates against your mouth as you clutch at his hoodie, trying to keep him close. He manages to pull away anyway.

“We should probably get inside before the cat gets out.” 

With that gentle reminder of why you’re out in your yard in the first place, the fog around your head dissipates. You look at your back door and find Mr. Meepers sitting right inside, staring at the two of you. 

“Right.”Joshua’s right, but he also hasn’t let go of you, and that is seriously affecting your ability to think right now. You try to pull yourself together. “Um. Joshua.” 

“Yeah?” 

Countless ideas flit through your brain, the majority of them involving kissing him again. 

“Thank you. For saving us. That was, um. That was good. And, it was…” You’re burning up, the back of your neck heating with a heady mix of desire and embarrassment at how you’re reacting to Joshua’s touch.

“It was what?”

“It was just… really good,” you trail off dumbly in a tiny voice.

He smirks. “Told you I was the brains.” 

You feel slightly sheepish when he laughs again, but you're quickly reassured when he kisses you softly.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand again. “Let’s finish your mission and get Mr. Meepers back home. Then maybe I’ll show you what else I’m thinking.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[concretecultist]

Sunshine (muscle memory pt. 2)

summary: "true love never leaves, sometimes it just gets lost temporarily. lost in pride and ego, lost in confusion and misunderstanding. but love being lost is never the end; sometimes love needs to breathe before it finds home again."

word count: 17.6k

pairing: reader x noah sebastian

warnings: angst, talks of mental health, feelings of guilt, mentions of marijuana usage, crying, dad!noah, FLUFF

THIS IS PURE FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!!!

A/N: yeah so idk how to write short stories really 😭 so this is a long one!! Please make sure to comment and reblog as it helps us writers out immensely!! Much love!

~Berry🫐

“You’re so full of shit!,”

Matt had come back into town, rushing to tell Noah and the guys what had happened while he was out. Noah, Nicholas and Jolly were playing a video game on the big screen when Matt rushed in, Folio nodding in and out of sleep with a bag of chips in his hands after facing a whole blunt by himself.

“Bro, I know what I fucking saw,” Matt was seething, does Noah really think he would lie about something like this? “This wasn’t some Y/N doppelgänger, it was Y/N and she had a baby, a little girl.. who looks just like you might I add. It’s weird!,”

Noah felt like his stomach fell out of his ass. Matt has to be bullshitting. Maybe you were babysitting? There’s no way you had a baby. There’s no way he had a baby.

“It’s hard to tell who babies look like when they’re still that young. Maybe the guy who told you to go away was her new boyfriend,” Jolly tried to justify.

Matt frowned at Jolly’s disposition. Everyone in this room knew you like the palm of their hands. It took you a while to open up to Noah and become his girlfriend and even longer to open up to them to consider them playfully-annoying brothers.

“She’s not like that,” Nicholas clicked away at his controller, brows furrowing as he soaks in the conversation.

Matt clapped his hands and pointed to Nicholas as if to say that the point he made was based, and it was.

Nicholas continued speaking while keeping his eyes trained on the screen, absolutely obliterating the characters within the game, “I mean think about it. If what Matt is saying is true-,”

“And it is!,” Matt interjected but all Nicholas did was roll his eyes and continue speaking,

“-Then the time between Noah and Y/N breaking up versus now, would not be enough time for her to get pregnant by someone else,”

“One night stand after they broke up?,” Folio answered absentmindedly.

“You know damn well that’s not how Y/N is,” Matt just wanted to pull his hair out, “If you saw that baby then you guys would see I’m not lying,”

Noah felt like he might be sick. Even if you two broke up, you would tell him that you were pregnant… right?

But then again, the last few months of your relationship, he wasn’t there, emotionally nor physically so he can’t blame you if you didn’t. It doesn’t hurt any less though and he doesn’t know what to believe.

“Where the hell did you even see her? I figured she jumped ship,” Noah shrugged, “And even if this is the case, Matt. She blocked all of us on… o-on everything so how do you expect me to go about this?,”

The silence from the blond was enough of an answer for Noah but Matt’s silence didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

“Why are you so adamant on denying this?,”

“I’m not!,” Noah let his character go idle long enough for Nicholas to say fuck it and actually pause the entire game, “I just don’t know what to do! I mean, if she acted like she didn’t want to see you then what makes you think she’ll want to see me?,”

The guys knew Noah had a point, but he should still try.

“It’s Sunday. Every other Sunday she goes to the markets and you should know that because you would always be at the studio with Jolly so she would take me with her,” Matt stood there with his arms crossed, he watched the gears turn in Noah’s head but he knew the brunet still wasn’t getting it.

“Okay?,” Noah was stumped.

“Which means she still has her routines, dork!,” he tapped his fingers to his temple as if to tell Noah to ‘fucking think’

“Meaning on Wednesday, she’ll be at the actual grocery store getting what she couldn’t at the market,” Nicholas answered for Matt.

“Are we sure any of this is a good idea?,” Jolly probed, “If you guys ended mutually then one, why would she not tell you, two, why would she block all of us, and three, why would she act like that when seeing Matt?,”

Jolly, Matt and Nicholas had their suspicions about the breakup. Noah had told them it was pretty cut and dry but they could never get your side as you pretty much went off the grid.

“I don’t know!,” Noah held his hands up in frustration, “I don’t know why you guys are acting like I’m not blindsided here,”

“There’s only one grocery store within the town I saw her near. Don’t be on any stalker shit but I’ll bet you my fucking mixing equipment she’ll be there on a Wednesday at 4:45 before the after work rush comes,” Matt refuted.

It felt strange to Noah that all of his friends seemed to read you like a book, but when he thinks about you, you seem like a mystery. Maybe it’s because you had no choice but to become one after a while. It’s his fault you closed yourself off. You tried until you couldn’t yet Noah made your efforts seem pointless. Noah had neglected you, he became a stranger who wasn’t involved in your routines anymore and he’s had more than enough time to realize that after you left.

When you left it felt like his world had stopped. How did he fuck up so bad? Letting the voices in his head get to him, pushing you away with the idea that you’ll someday be with someone who deserves you. The demons in his head convinced him that he wasn’t that someone.

He let the weight of the world crush him. He let the brain fog cloud his vision, his judgment and now here he is, doing his best to get better. Now has the news that he may or may not be a father. He’s spooked by the idea. If he couldn’t be a good partner how does he expect you to let him in for a chance to be a good father… if he can find you that is? He’s petrified.

Except he knows damn well it doesn’t outweigh the panic you felt when he pushed you away, forcing you to go through it all alone.

It had been about two and a half weeks or so since your run in with Matt and it has done nothing but prompted you to stay inside more than you already have been. Reid agreed to drop off your needed items and even stuck around to help around the house. He’s even brought Ms. Ernie by as she’s missed you.

You wanted to get out though. You missed going on walks around the woods, missed stepping foot on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t hide away forever and you really couldn’t do that to Noelle, she needed to see the outside world.

That’s how you found yourself in the supermarket in town with Ms. Ernie as she asked you what you wanted for dinner.

“I think some mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli will be good sides,” you suggested.

“Want gravy?,”

“No, I’m more of a butter and pepper kinda gal,” you lightly nudged her, patting Noelle’s bottom as she laid quietly in her baby wrap against your chest.

“You kids don’t appreciate good gravy anymore,” she playfully rolled her eyes.

This is something you really needed. Was this a friendship you expected to have? Absolutely not, still it helps you feel normal. You share your eggs from your chickens and she makes you milk and yogurt, she always invites you over for Wednesday dinner, you invite her over for a nice cool lunch while she’s on break from the truck.

“What do we want for dessert?,” you ask, looking at the array of fresh baked goods.

“Pick whatever you want, sweetie. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go look at the teas, I’m running low and I think they’re on sale!” she waved, taking the cart to go get her favorite brand of iced tea.

“What are we feeling, Sunshine?,” you lightly bounce, her hand reaching up to feel your cheek, “Do we want carrot cake, red velvet? Ouuu that caramel crumble apple pie sounds gooooood,”

You look at her, heart swelling while she just squeals and smiles at you. You never expected yourself to be a parent, a single parent at that- but smiling down at this face, with the cutest, chubbiest cheeks and big, animated eyes, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“I know, I think we should get all of them too,” you rub your nose against hers just to hear her babble again. You would never get tired of that sound, it became your favorite song.

“But!-” you open the cooler door and begin reaching, “-Mama is really craving the red velvet,”

Unfortunately for you though, it was on the top shelf and you just weren’t tall enough. You hear yourself grunt as you reach and honestly it’s rather embarrassing. You try again and see no one nearby to ask for help and you feel defeated. All you wanted was a nice piece of cake. Deciding to give up, you slap your hand down against your thigh and look to Noelle to pout at her, “I guess it wasn’t meant to be”

While you were looking at her, you were in your own world. Everything just seemed to stop when you peered into those eyes. Noelle nuzzled her cheek against the back of your finger as you caressed it. All you wanted was a nice dinner followed by eating cake while she slept on your chest, a nice night with you and Ms. Ernie competing against each other while watching a game show.

You were so caught up in adoring your daughter that you didn’t see the large hand that reached over your head to grab the cake you desired.

“Here you go,” a hopeful drone made its way into your ears.

You were so set on having a good night except when you looked up, your smile immediately fell and you were frozen. Your eyes seemed to deceive you because there was no way this was real. You had to be dreaming. There’s no way he’s standing in front of you.

Your body betrayed you. Everyone speaks of fight or flight and a part of you always believed that if you were in a situation where you had to choose, that you’d choose flight, not being the fighting type and opting to always run and hide. But… Now that you’re in a situation like this, there’s a third option many don’t acknowledge.

Freeze.

There’s fight.

There’s flight..

and then there’s freeze…

And you froze.

Your mind and body let you down. Your feet should be carrying your body as far away from his as possible but you just can’t move. You’re trying but they won’t budge.

That smile he shines isn’t helping either. It's an expression you want to wipe off his face but for some reason you can’t help but continue to stare because it’s a smile that you never expected to see again. It clicks that your mind is betraying you again because why are you finding comfort in it?

His eyes were tired but still so beautiful. You notice they hold hope as well as hesitation.

“You always did like red velvet,” he snickered but you didn’t find anything funny. What kind of sick joke is this?

“Get away from me,” you whisper. It sounded more confident in your head, you didn’t want to sound weak. Another bodily betrayal.

“I’m not here to scare you or hurt you. I just want to talk,” he caught a glimpse of the gorgeous baby in your wrap and his breath was taken away.

Matt was right and not just about the baby. But your routines. You never strayed far from your habits, so to see you walking in the store with your baby to your chest made this much more real than Noah could process at once. The poor guy doesn’t know if he’s relieved or scared shitless.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s not even yours,” your eyes flit as the tears fall down your cheeks. It felt like you were suffocating now. You know Matt spilled and really, you couldn’t blame him because if you were in Noah’s position, you’d want to be told as well. But then again.. you wouldn’t be in this position if you were him because you would’ve tried to save your relationship.

Being found so easily wasn’t something you planned and now you’re battling the feelings of wanting to slap him or run in his arms because while he hurt you- Noah was it for you. He was endgame. Seeing him stirred all these feelings inside that were now giving you vertigo, causing your stomach to swirl and a lump to form in your throat.

“Y/N, she looks just like me. There’s a lot to talk about,”

He tried to get another glimpse but you shielded her in the wrap. No, no way in hell. Taking a giant step back, you hold her closer, “I won’t let you take her away from me. She’s all I have, Noah. I won’t let you,”

Noah took a step forward and could only brandish defeat when you took yet another step back.

“I’m not trying to take her from you,” Noah knows he has no right to be offended. Like, let’s think- you two broke up and his best friend bumped into you, now Noah knows about his child and he found you in a random supermarket after you fought tooth and nail to stay away from him. It would make sense why you think he’d take her from you, but that’s far from what Noah wants. It’s a long shot but he wants to make this right.

Noah understands that he fucked up in the past but he wouldn’t do that to you, “That’s why I want to talk. I want a chance to be there,”

A scoff from you echoes in the empty aisle. How rich.

“You weren’t even there for me and you expect me to believe you’ll be there for her?,” You grit through your teeth, “She is too precious to be let down by you, Noah. Do it to me all you want but not when it comes to my daughter,”

A frown etched its way onto Noah’s face, waving his hands as if to say ‘wait, hold up’. He knows he hasn’t been there but he’s not about to be some deadbeat.

“Our… daughter,” he corrected, “You didn’t even give me a chance to know so I could be there,”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve!,” your voice had gone shrill and you were thankful that there was little to no people in the store. You wished he would have approached you outside, then you really wouldn’t have to worry about keeping your voice down.

“ ‘Our’ daughter, Noah? Really?! If you weren’t there before I was pregnant-,”

“I told you I just needed time,” he interjected, still holding onto that sentiment.

“I gave you four years!,” you spat, “Four years of me, Noah. I gave you four years to learn how to love me. To learn how to communicate even up until the end,”

Who knows how much time he would have needed. Who knows if he’d have even gotten his shit together by the time you found out you were with child and gave birth. Having Noelle now, you know for certain you couldn’t have just sat with idle hands.

“Y/N please,” he begged, still holding the cake in his hands, “I love you and I fucked up. It’s been killing me since the day you left and how I never had to chance to make it right, then Matt told me-”

“Matt is wrong. Matt doesn’t know what he’s talking about!,” you really weren’t trying to make a scene here and you were still trying to convince Noah that Noelle wasn’t his.

“She has my eyes, Y/N. She’s a perfect mix of you and me. Please, just, can we talk about this over coffee. I know you don’t owe me anything but can we meet for lunch or something?,”

Before you could answer with a fat ass denial, Ms. Ernie is coming up with her noisy cart, scooting along with a small frown on her face.

“They done moved my tea, I had to ask for help,” she frowned. She was never the type to like asking for help in stores, she liked it when things were easy to find.

She moves to stand beside you, waiting for your response but then she notices the look of shock you’re wearing and meets Noah’s eyes. It took her a second before she gawked, looking to Noelle and back to Noah.

“That’s that baby’s daddy!,” she looks over her glasses and you loudly sigh at her statement. She didn’t always read the room well.

“Ms. Ernie!,”

“Sorry, honey but it’s undeniable,” she shrugs, looking back to Noah, “You gonna put that cake in my cart or just stand there looking pretty,”

Noah stammered before rushing to set the cake down in the cart and turning to you. Words seem to catch in his throat, not exactly sure what to say.

“I know you blocked us all on everything so just… reach out when you’re ready. I really would like to talk about all of this,”

“I gotta go” Looking to Ms. Ernie so that she would get the hint to start walking. You knew you were in for a long night of her lectures, no matter how insightful they always were, you weren’t ready.

You had a feeling for how the night would go now. This feeling had your stomach queasy as if you’re on a boat, feeling the waves rock you to and fro. It was hard to face the music but she was going to make you. That’s just how Ms. Ernie was, you just weren’t ready for her to be right about it all.

“Give him a chance, sweetie,”

Noelle was fast asleep while you leaned on Ms. Ernie’s shoulder, eating your cake and watching Wheel of Fortune. You wanted your night to go just like this but it wasn’t enjoyable, not with all that was plaguing your mind.

“I can’t let him back in,” you think about it, recalling how bad it hurt you the first time around, “Now that Noey is involved, I can’t let my guard down. I’m a mom now, I have to protect her,”

“I’m not saying throw your whole hand in,” she sipped her tea, “Have a drink with him. I can call Reid to help me with our cute lil plum,”

It wasn’t a secret to how badly you were emotionally wounded when you and Noah parted ways, but it also wasn’t a secret to Ms. Ernie just how bad you love him. From the day you met her, she claimed you and Noah would find your way back to each other. You always told her it was a fat chance. Even now, your heart was playing tug of war.

Do you stay away? Leaving him to wallow in his bad decisions? or do you lean into the possibility of mending things?

“I never stopped loving him, that’s why I’m scared,” you sit up to look at her, she looked so noble when looking at you over her glasses like that, “I watched him love me less and less until our love just became an empty shell. I watched him pick his job over me and I can’t put her through that,”

Ms. Ernie reached over to wipe your tears when she caught sight of your trembling chin. It was comforting, like a grandma tending to her grandchild while they experienced a melancholic mood.

“Take it slow. Take time to get to know the new him and he can take the time to get to know the new you,”

“Does he deserve that though?,”

“Mmm,” she shrugged, “Sometimes a lot of good can come out of a second chance. What if you and him were meant to part ways, only so you two could find each other again?”

“Love shouldn’t come to that, no?,” a twinge of confusion worming its way into your tone

“Oh honey. You’ve got a lot to learn about love,” she lightly swatted your leg, “No amount of time and space can separate you from those that are meant to be in your life. This is a second chance to create a new story,”

You called it. You knew she was gonna get all philosophical on you and be right about all of this.

“Don’t rush into it but…” she sighed, “Give it a shot,”

You don’t even know if you were strong enough to lift the metaphorical gun to give it a shot. Pondering her words each bite at a time while you finish your treat, how do you go about this without immediately falling in love with him again? He was so easy to love even when you didn’t want to, even in his faults. One look at him and it felt like the first day you met him.

You were standing at the bus stop one day, sighing at having to take public transportation as your anxiety has been in overdrive since your car was in the shop. Public transportation meant a lot of people in close quarters and you just couldn’t handle that right now.

In the midst of your mind being in a flurry, a group of rowdy men are approaching. You’re too caught up in trying to reduce your apprehension to notice them getting closer until a nameless man bumps into you, knocking your token out of your hand.

Watching it fly from your hand, floating in mid air, all you can do is try to catch it but it just wasn’t your day. Your token falls down the street drain and your gasp causes the rowdy group to stop.

“No! No, no, no, no noooo!,” you fall to your knees and look down the drain to see the token shining up from the bottom. It was mocking you.

“Dang it!,” your head falls in your hands, wallowing in embarrassment. The token station was 9 blocks away, there was no way you’d make it there and back in time. Of course the transit app wasn’t working on your phone either, you’d been telling yourself to get a new phone carrier for months now, now look at you.

“I’m… so sorry!,”

Removing your head from your hands, your eyes move in the direction in which the voice came. Your breath is instantly taken away once again but for a whole other reason.

“I can pay for another token,” he offers, helping you up, his large hands grasping your biceps to get you up right.

“No it’s okay I can-,”

“Please. It’s the least I can do,” the tall brunet insisted. Your words are caught in your throat, eyes trying to drink in his beauty before he becomes only a memory.

“Nice going, Noah!,” a tall blond wearing a hat pushes him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” another chuckled, he was also decked out in tattoos, gorgeous black hair and glittering eyes.

But your eyes were on the inked man in front of you, the one who made your day even more of a rollercoaster than it already has been. While his friends make fun of him, your eyes are tracing over his tattoos, you’d never seen so many on one body in person before.

“Is… is that a Garden of Eden reference?,” you point to his neck.

He touches his throat and chuckles, a noise that you weren’t aware would change your life.

“Yeah, yeah it is,”

“It’s nice,” you mutter, afraid to speak above a certain octave. You don’t talk to people much, you were only a lonely librarian who went to work, staying in the basement all day to organize books and then go home.

“Thanks…?” he trails off but points to you ask if to ask you a question

“Y/N,” you spill out, “M-my name is Y/N,” you anxiously stick out your hand for him to take and shake, “I think he just called you Noah?,”

“Yeah that’s me,” his smile… my God his smile was hypnotizing. His smile could cure all sadness

“You owe me a bus pass,” you point out, “A-and… and I can pay you back over a cup of tea and some fresh scones at my favorite bakery downtown,”

Your confidence not only caught him off guard, but you as well. You’d never suggest something like that to someone and now you’re overthinking the fact that you’ve made such a fool of yourself.

“Sorry that was… that was abrasive and demanding. That was so rude. Y-you were just being nice and I just… you’re just so pretty and oh my God… Y/N shut up-,”

“Hey,” he softly talked over you, wanting to calm you down without scaring you.

“We’ll stick around until the bus comes so I can pay for your pass and we can trade numbers to set up a date for those scones,”

A date… a DATE?! You’ve only ever been on a handful of dates before and they all went terribly. Surely he didn’t mean like… a date-date, right? Like, you’re sure he just meant a little meetup so you could actually pay him back.

“O-okay!,” wide eyed, you nod your head and look around to his friends that are smiling and laughing and you don’t know if they’re laughing at you. It’s okay if they are, you’re used to it.

“Don’t mind them. They’re assholes,”

“We are not!,” a shorter man punches his arm, “I’m Nick by the way, but you can call me Folio. That’s Jolly, Nicholas, Matt, Davis and Bryan!,”

You nod to them all, making a note of their names.

“Y/N,” you sputter, “I’m Y/N,”

“We heard,” Jolly smiled.

“Right,” you give a bashful smile and turn from them to sit on the bench, “The buses are running 20 minutes late today so you really don’t have to wait,” you set your book in your lap.

“I insist. If these jerks are in a rush, they can go without me,” Noah throws a hand back at them. He’s not surprised that that’s exactly what they did.

They left Noah there, giving you two the chance to talk about the most random things, like your favorite book genres to read, things on your bucket list, aliens, paranormal shit. Just fun things. This is the most you’ve talked to any stranger you’ve ever met, you don’t even talk to your co workers like this.

Noah let you yap about your interests, he admired the way you animated your speech with your hands. He was absolutely enamored with the way you bounced in your seat when he brought up a topic that excited you and he made a mental bookmark so he could memorize the way your eyes close when you laugh.

Noah didn’t believe in love at first sight but this felt like it.

While discussing your favorite twilight characters, the noise of the approaching bus pulled you from your conversation, Noah can see how your face dropped. Your conversation went by too quickly.

“We can have more conversations like this,” Noah shows you his screen, displaying his number and you curse to yourself, knowing he can see you shaking while you hurry to type it into your phone. Your heart was beating out of your chest, he is so sweet and so fricken cute and his tattoos are so cool and he just sat here to talk to YOU?! No one ever just talks to you.

He’s even nice enough to help you onto the bus and get you seated before saying his saddened farewells to leave you. His demeanor gave off reluctance and you felt like you were in a rom-com when he stood outside the bus, waving as it began rolling away.

Your face was hotter than hell, there’s no way any of that just happened. Your phone felt heavy in your hands, demanding to be opened. Gnawing at your lip, your fingers dance on your screen, trying to figure out what to say.

You went with a simple text, something quirky. Something that you hope he’ll answer to and not ghost you after the way you opened up to him so easily.

“So… about those scones?”

All those memories flood back and you can feel the dampness of your face. Where did that Noah go?

How did your once grey world that become so colorful so quickly with his presence, fade into grey once more with his absence in the blink of an eye?

What happened to him that he became so detached? What was lying beneath the surface that he let fester until he let it impact your relationship?

You feel Ms. Ernie takes the plate away from you and rests her hand on your cheek, pulling you out of the pit you were digging with your overactive questioning.

“I got the spare bedroom ready for ya, go get some rest,”

Taking her advice, Noelle snuggled into you as you carried her to the spare room where Ms. Ernie had set up a spare bassinet. You had tucked her in, making sure she was safe and secure before plopping down on the bed with a large sigh, heels of your palms pressing into your eyes to subdue your flowing tears. Now that you were alone, the weight of everything came down.

Tired of feeling so scatterbrained, you grabbed your phone, tapping away at the screen to have your thumb hovering over his name. Was this a good idea? Do you give in this easily? Would this be healthy for your mental state right now? Maybe Matt was right, this wasn’t about you, this was about Noelle, she deserved her dad, right?

But what about protecting her? You didn’t want to introduce him into her life just for him to turn around and jump ship when things got too hard.

Here goes the vicious cycle of overthinking and all the possibilities that made themselves known with the heaviness, giving you no other choice but to feel it filling up your chest. How soon did you want to do this? Did you even want to do this at all?

You’ve been blaming yourself since that day at the market. Had you gone earlier like you always do, you wouldn’t have bumped into Matt, or if you had paid attention, you could have avoided him. There were so many outcomes the universe shuffled in its hand and yet the card you were dealt was the situation you were facing right now.

Finally having enough of your own inner dialogue, a deep breath escapes you when clicking on his contact, closing your eyes when hitting Unblock Caller

Just like the day you met him, you’re faced with the challenge of what to say, except this time there was nothing cute or quirky to say. It was simple and serious.

Tomorrow 12pm at the bakery downtown.

That’s all you could come up with before pressing send. It’s almost like he was waiting by his phone, waiting for you to reach out and it makes you kick yourself. What if this is a set up and you’re falling into his plan.

Wait, no.

Noah has messed up but, He wouldn’t do that… would he? He wouldn’t hurt you any further. You hope you’re right because now this is happening.

I’ll be there.

Sleep fought you all night. In and out of sleep to either tend to Noelle or simply because your mind wouldn’t power down for the night. When you were finally able to get some shut-eye, it was like it was already time for the sun to rise.

Ms. Ernie had breakfast ready for you after you fed Noelle, scooting around her quaint kitchen humming the tune of a classic she grew up listening to. Your nerves were bad as you thought of the day ahead.

“So, what are your plans today?,” she questions.

Slowly chewing your food, your eyes avert down to the table. Why do you feel so embarrassed to admit that you’re meeting him today despite her calling it?

“I uhm, I was going to ask if-,”

“Yes. Reid is already on his way,” the elderly woman delivered a smug expression, she’s been on Earth long enough to know how young love works.

You chuckle at her and shake your head, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask,”

“Baby, I can read you like a book. You’re gonna go see him. I could tell before you went to bed last night. We’ve spent enough time together for me to know you’re not over him,”

Knowing this fact made you feel an ounce of shame. You should be over him. He showed his ass last year yet you’re not sure if the alarm bells that are going off in your head are due to actual warning or if they’re sounding off because you can’t seem to do anything other than overthink. It’s a terrible habit and an even more terrible predicament to be in.

“Am I jumping into this?,” you rub Noelle’s back absentmindedly, enjoying the weight of her in your arms to ground you. Maybe you should have given it a couple days. Did it seem desperate to message him so soon? You were supposed to hate his guts

“It was going to have to happen at some point, dear,” she shrugs while cleaning the kitchen, “You’ve left some bricks of milk in the freezer, you’ve left some spare bottles, diapers, all that. With Reid here to help me she’s in good hands times 2,”

Almost as if she had summoned him, Reid knocks and enters through her front door, a bright smile on his face that you’ve come to learn really helps calm you down. You were thankful for the connections you’ve made since being on your own.

These people were your village and you were in good hands, meaning Noelle was too.

“Gooooooood morning!!,” he claps, hugging Ms. Ernie before moving to you to steal a piece of bacon off your plate. Reid hugs you as well, taking Noelle from your arms.

“I can’t forget you, sunshine!,” he holds her up in the air and she screams in excitement, dropping her head on his chest when he pulls her in.

Ms. Ernie could tell your nerves were getting the best of you, it’s happened enough times to know that spaced out look on your eyes.

“Finish eating and get ready. You can take my car,” she scoots around the kitchen to set her keys on the counter.

“I can call an Uber” not wanting to impose

“Nonsense!,” she waves her hand with a frown, “Your car is back at the cabin, my car doesn’t get much use cause I always take my truck. It’s not a problem,”

Reid sits beside you and rubs your back as a means of comfort, it’s written all over your face that you’re distraught, you never did master your poker face.

“Hey, you got this,”

You drop your head on the table and can feel the tears welling once more.

“Am I stupid for letting him in so easily?,” the familiar knot was forming in your throat, warning that tears would soon begin to fall if you didn’t pull yourself together, “He literally told me he didn’t love me like he used to, then last night says he never stopped. It’s hurting my head. I went about year without him and now I’m going to meet him and I’m terrified,”

“Y/N,” Reid began, “How do eat an elephant?,”

You turn to him and frown at his question. But this is Reid, you know he’s about to say something corny.

“How?,”

“One bite at a time,” he comforts, “It’s okay to feel nervous. It’s okay to overthink all of this and it’s okay to think about the cons. But what if this turns into something good?,”

“It was supposed to be something good the first time,” you hiccup. It’s just tearing you apart all over again to think about what could have been if he’d tried harder back then. You could have been a happy family instead of going through this.

“But then I guess I wouldn’t have met you guys,”

“Exactly. Everything happens for a reason,” Ms. Ernie interjects, “But if you get back with him, you better not forget us,”

Her words were jaw dropping, you know she was saying it as a joke but there was a twinge of truth in them. You all have gotten so close and it would crush her if you left and never looked back.

“I would never dream of it,”

You arrived at the bakery an hour early. Your thoughts wouldn’t slow down unless you did and your nerves were on fire the closer it got.

Maybe this was a bad idea. No… this definitely was a bad idea, right? This bakery brought so many memories. What kind of self torture is it to recommend meeting at the place you two had your first date?

It’s 12 now and he’s still not here. Your chest starts to ache and you don’t know if stress is the cause or if it’s because you knew this was too good to be true.

The reality of having a baby scared him off. He wasn’t ready to be a parent. He’s a big shot rock star, sitting here with the realization made it click that he’s not ready to give that up. He loved his job too much.

It was now 12:06 and there was still no sign of him. You weren’t going to text him, he shouldn’t need a reminder, especially because he never followed up today.

Exhaling mournfully, you gather your belongings, standing up to leave when you hear the bell to the front door and heavy, pattering feet-

“I’m here!!,” panting, hands on his knees as he gets to the table, “I’m here! Accident blocked off the highway- had to take a detour- sped here, no parking. Had to park 2 blocks away so I ran,” he slid into the booth, running a hand through his hair to calm down.

His face was cherry red, chest rising and falling quickly, he looked beat. You don’t say a word, you just slip him your water and he whispers his gratitude just as he chugs it, taking a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“I don’t have her here with me,” a monotonous tone leaves you.

He nods, taking a second to compose himself, trying to get his heart rate down so that he could have a calm conversation.

“I expected that,” leaning back in his seat, his eyes settle in on you and you start to feel self conscious, “You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,”

“Noah,”

“No, I know I fucked up, Y/N. Trust me, no one knows more than me,” he leans his elbows on the table, dipping his head to catch your eyes that way you can see he was being honest, “I’ve kicked myself in the ass ever since then,”

“I can’t just let you back in, Noah,”

“And I don’t expect you to,” his hand comes to his lips, pressing on them as he thinks, “Everyday I thought about you and what I could have done better. I have therapy now, I learned better coping mechanisms. I know that’s something I should have done before I got that bad, but I didn’t just do it for you I did it for me because I wasn’t treating myself the nicest either,”

Maybe you should have taken a page out of his book and gotten help, but with being a single parent, you didn’t really have time for that.

“I loved you and I still do. You said that you probably weren’t the one for me but you’ve got it so wrong,”

His words reverberate off the walls of your ear canal. This is why all of this is confusing. If he was going through something mentally, why wasn’t he honest instead of shattering you to pieces?

“You’re just saying that because there’s a baby in the picture,” you accuse.

“Ask Matt… ask Nicholas even. This has been going on since the day you left. Finding out about our daughter only solidified it even more that I want a life with you,”

There’s no way this is genuine.

“Noah, I can’t just trust y-,”

“I know. You set the pace, I will respect that,”

There.

Those words started to chip away at the walls that you’d built up. They must not have been very thick, or very strong. Or maybe Noah just had that ability.

“Do you… can I see pictures of her at least?,” He asks as if he’s nervous almost, “I get it if you don’t want to I just-,”

A part of you wanted to tell him no. You didn’t want to reveal her to him just yet. He should work a little harder to prove that he’s legitimate in his stance. A few words shouldn’t grant him this opportunity. Nevertheless, your iced out attitude began melting at his expression, showing him a couple pictures wouldn’t hurt.

“No I can,” you open your phone to your camera roll, having a whole album of her. You’ve taken pictures of her since the day you had her. She’s a beautiful baby and you suppose he could see pictures of his own child, he’s missed out on enough, hasn’t he?

“This is when she was born. I did a water birth,” you show him a picture of you holding her, umbilical cord still attached, “My medical staff was great,”

Then you slid through the album showing him other pictures absolutely adoring your daughter and how cute she is

“This is the first time she smiled at me,” you look at him and you can see the sparkle in his eyes as he stares at the screen. There was a gentle smile on his lips, registering in his mind that this little human was a piece of him.

“She’s a sweet baby. Doesn’t really cry, she’s a squealer when she laughs,”

You play videos of her giggling and babbling and he is instantly in love, seeing this look on his face stirs a guilt inside of you that you never felt before. Maybe he should have known. Things could have been resolved by now had you not been selfish.

But there’s that nagging little voice telling you that you deserved to be selfish at least once in your life. It felt like your mind was in a blender.

“What’s her name?,” he looks to you hopefully. Were you ready to give him that information? It’s silly but the more he knows, the easier it will be for him to tear down the walls you built around yourself. It’ll make it easier for him to weasel his way into the picture again and you weren’t sure yet if you wanted to keep this a co-parenting arrangement or what.

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” he sees the hesitation on your face.

“Noelle,” you answer softly, “Her name is Noelle. I named her after you. But we also call her Sunshine, Plum or Noey, that one’s new,”

He broke out in the brightest smile you’d ever seen. You missed that smile, those beautiful lips framing his beautiful teeth. It was a smile that once brought you peace that is now bringing confusion.

“That’s…,” he gives a breathy chuckle, using his fingers to press into his eyes to keep the tears at bay, “That’s lovely,”

“Yeah, look at who her mom is,” you flip your hair as a joke and suddenly the tension isn’t as heavy. You’re supposed to be icy right now but the hopeless romantic within you is fighting the broken-hearted girl. One could only guess who is winning.

“Yeah, exactly,” Noah is seen getting nervous as the conversation progresses, he doesn’t know what questions are off limits, “So what are you up to these days? You’re not at the library anymore,”

“You looked for me at the library?,” you frown. You left that place a long time ago.

“I sat out on the bench everyday for at least three months before we had to leave for tour,”

Why couldn’t he give you that energy before? Where he used to meet you outside on the bench after you got off, sometimes with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and sometimes with your favorite take out and you’d have little date nights on the library bench. Why did that flame have to die?

Was life about to present you with new, better tools? Improved ways to bring it back? To make it a raging forest fire that can’t be put out? A lover like you can only hope.

“I work from home. With finding out about Noelle I needed something relaxed, I’m still in the field of library science. I work as an analyst,”

His eyebrows perked up, just like the first time you two ever met when you told him what you did for a living. His interest now was a big 180 from last year.

“Y/N that’s.. that’s amazing,” he leans forward, prompting you to talk about it more. You go on and on about your job, about how cool it is to you and he sat there and listened. Not once did he break eye contact, he interacted with the conversation and it felt like things were how they used to be.

“How’s the Bad Omens life?,” you ask, finally getting winded from talking about yourself.

Noah plasters a look of pride on his face. You wanted so badly to keep up with them but that would do you a disservice while trying to mend what was hurting you.

“It’s great! We’re blowing up, so many more places we can tour now, merch sales are off the hook. We have a new one dropping soon and I uh… I designed one for Noelle, I’ll just need her size,”

His words caught you off guard. How does he have something planned for her already?

“Noah,” he’s got you swooning so easily. This was your Noah.

Snap out of it, Y/N!

If he’s serious, make him work for it.

“I think it’s pretty cute! Nicholas and I brainstormed on it together, it’s a Bad Omens x Noelle exclusive,”

The laughter that escaped you was a melody Noah thought he’d never hear again. When it dies down, his mouth begins to itch with a question he’s been wondering for a long time now.

“Are you,” he clears his throat, “Are you seeing anyone?,”

Your eyes flicker at his question, adjusting in your seat. Snatching the cup of water that was on the table, looking him in his eyes when you set it down after a sip.

“I told you,” tongue in cheek, playing with your fingers to ease your mind, “I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with anyone else. You were it for me,”

You search his eyes, wanting to cry for the sole basis that you never thought you’d see them again. They were the eyes you looked to whenever you were desolate, excited, or livid. No matter what you were feeling you could simply look at him and he was always there, until he wasn’t.

“I meant it when I said I loved you and you fucking sat there and told me that you didn’t love me like you used to,”

“I don’t know why I said that-,”

“It gutted me,” anguish covers your face like a mask, trying to keep yourself from crying while that night replays in your mind like a movie, “You just sat there like it didn’t even hurt you,”

“It hurt me like you wouldn’t believe,” he persisted

“So why didn’t you try?,” your lip hurts from biting it so hard, if you don’t stop it’ll bleed soon enough, “I gave you so much of me, even up until I couldn’t, when I had nothing left and you just… sat there!,”

“I was an idiot,” he admitted, “I fucked up when I decided to love my career more than anything. I messed up when I let it weigh me down,”

“I don’t care that you loved your career, Noah. I cared whether you showed up for us or not. You did until you became complacent,”

“I know I didn’t,” he answers, “I know I didn’t try hard enough. I know I gave up too quickly and those decisions have been haunting me every fucking day. I know I made this bed but I don’t wanna lie in it anymore,”

Taking a napkin from the table to wipe your eyes, you look around to make sure no one is looking at you. You thought in your mind that you’d be stronger but deep down, you expected the tears even though it’s embarrassing to be this emotional in public.

“Were you even honest with everyone or did you make me the villain?,”

“I told them it was mutual,” he confesses in shame.

Choking on your sobs, you shake your head and just look out the window, “So you made them think I just skipped town? That’s so fucked up, Noah. I would have never done that to you,”

“I will tell them the truth,” He panicked, “I don’t know why I lied to them I just… I knew they’d make the guilt worse and I figured the damage was done. I knew if they knew the truth they’d make me reach out but after that I didn’t have the right to reach out to fix it,”

There’s a silence that floats between you two after his words. The culpability of hurting you ate at him while the heartache gnawed away at you.

Both were parasites feeding on their hosts. Ruining their lives, doing their best to reduce them to nothing.

The parasitism ends here though.

“If-” you hiccup, gathering your things, “If you want even a sliver of a chance of being in Noelle’s life… of us getting back together, of us being a family… then you’ll start with being honest with our friends,”

Noah was so anxious that he just might throw up. He wanted you back and he didn’t want to miss out on having a family. He’s missed out on enough due to his own transgressions.

It took Noah a few days to muster up the strength to tell everyone. Every time he tried, he stumbled over his words and gave up. He had to do this though, it wasn’t fair to lie on your name to save his face.

Noah found himself with the guys, all gathered for game night. Snacks spread out all over the table, Folio was high, laughing while throwing a squid at Matt on the course, fucking up Matt’s winning streak. All of them were having a good time but Noah couldn’t focus on having fun, what he was about to confess wasn’t fun by any means. After a few rounds of Mario Kart, he paused the game and sighed, many groans of dismay being heard around the living room.

“What’s your problem?,” Jolly questioned, “I was about to whoop your ass on the Bone-Dry Dunes!,”

Noah felt his breathing pick up. It was now or never.

“It wasn’t mutual,” he blurts out, heart racing in his chest, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears.

“The fuck are you talking about?,” Folio burps obnoxiously loud and Bryan kicks him for being gross about it.

“Y/N and I, the break up wasn’t mutual,” he finds his switch controller a lot more interesting than the feeling of their eyes burning holes into his skin.

“Again, that begs the question… what the fuck are you talking about?,” Matt’s voice sounds strained, like he knows and is getting irritated with the suspense.

“Before she left. I told her that I didn’t love her like I used to. I got overwhelmed with the band. I was… I got deep in my head and started to self sabotage. I neglected her and I fucked up,”

A stillness dresses the air, Noah can feel the tension. He can’t bring himself to look up and see their expressions, he’s ashamed, he should be. How did he go so long with this secret? How did he go about his life knowing he broke the trust of one of the sweetest souls that walked this Earth?

“Woah…,” Davis muttered in a daze. His single word response was enough to have all hell breaking loose.

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass!,” Nicholas threw his controller at Noah, heat from his frustration reddening his cheeks, “Are you fucking kidding me, Noah? Is that why she ran off?,”

“That’s exactly why,” he nodded, cursing at himself. He feels so embarrassed to say it out loud. This is the first he’s ever admitted this outside of therapy. These are people that mattered, people whose opinions mattered the most.

Matt sat up like he’d seen a ghost, a light bulb moment happening for him, “That’s why she didn’t tell you about the baby,”

“BABY?!,” Folio screeched, “where the fuck was I?!,” Hands stuck out as if to gesture “wtf” Folio was always ten steps behind everyone else, even when he was in the room at the time of conversations.

“You were super high, you passed out,” Jolly waved at him to shut up, turning to Noah, “You’re our brother which means I have to be honest. That is a dick ass move, Noah. She was nothing but patient with you. She loved you, supported you even when it was hard because you were gone all the time. What the fuck?,”

“She was always there no matter what you needed,” Bryan added, while it took a while for you to open up to everyone, when you did, they became your little family, “She was always there for you, always there for us,”

“I miss when she packed our lunches for the studio,” Folio sighed like he was daydreaming. Once again finding it hard to read the room.

“Not the time!,” Nicholas gritted through his teeth

“I’m just saying!,” Folio defended, “She took care of all of us,”

Nicholas stuck out his hand to shut Folio up. If there was anyone up in arms about this, it was him. They all became your family and it hurt them when you left without a word. Now that he knows the full story, it makes him livid to know it was Noah who pushed you away. This could have been avoided.

“We were worried sick about her, Noah!,” Nicholas was more upset than any of them, and that’s saying a lot, the others were quite upset, “That girl who stuttered over her words the first time she met you still stuttered after years of being with you because she loved you, because you still made her nervous! After years of being with you she was still smitten and because of the stress.. you… y-you say that shit to her?,”

Noah really had no rebuttal. He knew Nicholas was right. There were no words for him to defend himself with. It almost brought him to tears, unsettled by his own behavior and now that other people know… now that the people closest to him know- it changes everything and forces him to reflect even more.

“Instead of talking to her, talking to us to keep you from doing something so stupid- instead of doing.. anything! You pull a coward ass move!,”

Nicholas viewed you as if you were a younger sibling, taking you under his wing, understanding your reclusive personality. He was the first person you connected to outside of Noah. He had a feeling when he only ever got vague answers when asking about the break up.

“It was time I was honest. I want to make this right with her. I want a chance to see my daughter and be a dad but it starts with honesty.” Noah mumbled, “I just want her back and I want a second chance whether I deserve it or not. I want to be there for Y/N like I always should have been. I want to be there for Noelle. I’m sorry it took so long to come clean.”

“Yeah?,” Matt’s jaw clenches as he ponders what has been said. He has his own thoughts regarding the matter but Nicholas seemed to cover them all for the most part, “I hope she makes you work like hell for it!,”

All Noah can really do is agree, they’re right. He was a coward, he did take the easy way out instead of facing his own problems and insecurities, and you should make him work like hell to get you back, to earn his place in Noelle’s life.

“Noelle,” Folio trails off, giggling to himself as he says the name, “Noeeeellee,”

“Dude, shut the fuck up!,” Jolly shouted with a bit of laughter layered underneath, Folio is such an airhead, it’s hard to have serious conversations like this around him. At least it eases some tension.

“It’s a cute name!!,”

“She’s an adorable baby,” Matt confirmed, “I only got a glimpse of her but she looks just like Noah,”

“Nah,” Noah shook his head, “She has my eyes but she has the curl of Y/N’s lashes. She has my lips but she has her mama’s chin. She has my dimples but Y/N’s cheeks. She’s both Y/N and me. She’s beautiful,”

Davis scoffs, raising his eyes, “Well you better get your shit together,”

“Yeah! I’m ready to be one kick ass uncle!,”

“Shut up, Folio!,”

You had taken it upon yourself to unblock everyone, figuring that if Noah told them the truth that they’d want to reach out, which they did.

It was scary at first, Noah had been a coward but you had your cowardly moments as well. Running off and not saying a word to people who cared about you- it wasn’t the nicest thing to do. Going through this with Noah had you realizing there are some things you would have done differently. This is a time of self reflection for everyone.

Although you’d been talking with them over the last week or so, you didn’t let the conversation stray too far from how you were doing. You weren’t ready to introduce them to Noelle or the idea of her just yet, you’re sure Noah has talked about her a bunch but you didn’t want to get too close to everyone again as of right now.

Ms. Ernie and Reid have been watching Noelle while you and Noah rebuild yourselves.

Dates that you made sure to let him know weren’t ‘actual dates’, walks at the park that turned into introspective discussions. It was all a work in progress and it made Ms. Ernie’s words hit even harder, there’s a lot to learn about love and that sometimes second chances are worth it.

You made him work like hell, but he was doing pretty well. He had different plans each day you guys hung out. He was attentive. He was gentle, he even told you about what he and his therapist talked about after each session.

In reality, you could tell he was doing better. You still had some reservations and there was still a long way to go but ultimately he was making a true effort. You could see the change he was making. Granted, it was a change that should have happened a long time ago but things happen the way they’re supposed to and when they’re supposed to.

That sentiment itself was a hard pill to swallow.

Today he took you on a picnic in the park, packed your favorite foods and drinks. He was really laying it on thick, others might find it cringe but it was making your heart flutter.

“I never did thank you, for telling them the truth,” popping a grape in your mouth, “I know it wasn’t easy,”

“It needed to happen. I knew better and I shouldn’t have lied to them but most importantly, I shouldn’t have lied on you. I was a coward and that’s not who I want to be to you… or Noey,”

A pleasant hum emitted from your chest, brows raising at the nickname that left his mouth.

“That one seemed to stick, huh?,”

“Noey is different… and it’s super close to Noah,”

“Noelle is already close to Noah!,” you bicker, both of you in high spirits while you go back and forth

“Noah has four letters and so does Noey,”

“Oh you’re such a kiss ass!,” you push him and he falls over dramatically.

“Help! Someone help!,” he shouted, feigning like he was injured

“Oh my God, Noah, stop! Someone is gonna think you’re serious!,” you reach over him to cover his mouth but he licks it and you squeal

“EEUUUGHHH!! You’re so gross!!,” you yank your hand back, he’s laughing like a hyena. Eyes wrinkling, hand in his chest and head thrown back.

“You used to do that to me all the time!” Justifying his action, you stick your tongue out at him while wiping your wet palm on his cheek

“Which means you can’t steal my move!,”

It was tense the first couple of meet ups and each one gets you closer to bringing Noelle around. These past couple of times had broken the ice and it started to feel like time hadn’t passed.

“Hey uhm, are you?- do you still live at the house?”

Noah settles down, feeling the energy shift to something a little more serious.

“Yeah. Didn’t have the guts to move. Why?,”

You twist grapeless vine in your hands, afraid to say the words now that you’re feeling comfortable to bring it up. It’s about 2 months of this and Noelle is a little over 6 months now.

“I’d like to bring Noelle by,”

Noah struggled for air, coughing up his drink and you can’t help but snicker at the liquid dripping off his chin.

“What?,” his eyes are as big as saucers

“Unless you’re not ready. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,”

“No! No, I.. Y/N you have no idea how much I would love that,”

If you weren’t mistaken, you swear you see tears welling in his eyes

“I’d love to meet my daughter,”

This was a big step for you and an even bigger one for Noah. Both of you were scared beyond your wits.

“I’d like for it to just be us and then we can work up to getting the guys to meet her? And then you can meet Ms. Ernie, Reid and his husband, Morgan,”

You had to make sure to set some ground rules, Noah responded without any issues knowing that at the end of the day- you call the shots and he has to abide by them if he wants this to work. Yet despite feeling good about all of this, there’s still a smidge of uncertainty.

“What’s on your mind?,” even after all the time spent apart, reading you was like muscle memory.

“I still feel resentful,” you look to him to see his shoulders sagging, “I know you’re tired of it,”

“I don’t expect you to get over any of this anytime soon. In a way, you’re grieving and I can’t police how long you mourn. I can only help ease it,”

You didn’t really think of what you were going through as mourning but you guess you can see the similarities. What you two had was long gone and even in the face of starting over, albeit with the same person, you were still allowed to miss how things were and feel a bit out of sorts about what happened.

“It’s just,” you watch his hands as he picks at his palms, a nervous tick he’s always had. You’re once again feeling a sort of guilt making him feel like this but it’s a price he has to pay, right? You didn’t ask to be hurt to begin with.

“Resentment is so weird. I want to forgive you, Noah. So fucking bad I want to forgive you because I can’t keep doing this with you, I wish I could forget so I could just… hug you, kiss you, hold your hand like we used to,”

“You set the pace, Y/N. I told you no matter what, I respect it. I wish I could take it all back. God, I wish there was a way for me to go back so I didn’t fuck up and hurt you,”

“And my mind is struggling to comprehend why the fuck you would do that to me,” anger bleeds into your tone.

Noah is seen blubbering like a fish out of water as he tries to find his words. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, recalling the very night he ruined what you two had.

“There’s no explanation,” he declared, there was nothing good enough to excuse why he did what he did.

“No excuse, no reasoning that will ever be good enough for what I said to you. For how I treated you. It was unacceptable and there are no words to describe how apologetic I am. All I can say is, is that I’m so thankful you’re here, even giving me this chance,”

“You were all I could think about,” turning your body to him, he needed to know the turmoil you endured, “You hadn’t touched me in almost 3 months by the night I left. I was so consumed with the stress I didn’t realize I missed my period. I went to the doctor and that’s when I heard our little girl’s heartbeat,”

It didn’t get past him that you finally said our daughter and not just “my”. At this point, he has turned to look at you, listening closely, making sure you knew he was paying attention.

“I moved to the countryside and that’s where I met Ms. Ernie and Reid. They were my people while I was managing heartbreak. Keeping myself physically and mentally healthy so I could bring Noelle into this world. You… you should have been there Noah, you could’ve been there,”

“I know,” he blinks, tears falling down his cheeks just like yours were, “I missed out on so much because I couldn’t get my own shit together,”

“I took that pain and restructured it to fuel me so I could be the best parent I could be. I never thought I’d be sitting here in front of you. I never expected to see you again. Ever. But despite all the alarm bells, I am so fucking glad I am because I missed you, Noah. But I hate you so much at the same time,”

His face fashioned that of anguish at your last few words. It was hurting him but he didn’t look away from you, he didn’t hide his eyes, he’s now feeling what you felt that night and then some.

The anxiety. The fear, the fucking aching that burned from his gut all the way up into his throat. The pounding in his head, the heat that blanketed his skin. He can’t believe he did this to you. He can’t believe he sat across from you at the table that night, watching you fall apart and still said what he said.

“I don’t know how you expect us to rebuild anything,” your voice flows into his ears and he can feel his chest tightening, finding it harder to keep his breathing at a normal pace.

“Hell, I don’t even know how I expect us to rebuild anything but I’m going to try because that’s what you should have done!,”

“I-I know. Fuck, I.. I’m aware,” taking a deep breath to try to swallow his cries.

“I’m going to do what you couldn’t do,” a wild fire burns behind your eyes and he realizes this is a new you. The soft spoken Y/N is still there but this version of you takes no shit. You have a daughter now, you had to build tough skin

“I’m going to prove to you that fighting for what you want isn’t a lost fucking cause. I’m going to show you that no matter what is going on in your head, no matter what the voices are telling you- that I am here and I will be here until we are dust returned to the universe, Noah,”

You hated to see the way he dug his fingernails into his palms and you wanted nothing more than to grab his hands to massage the tension and cramps away.

“I know this is eating at you,” you whisper, “For the longest time I wanted it to. But not anymore,”

A great tremor overtook him, flexing his jaw to ease the ache from clenching it so hard. He had to break eye contact just this once to look up at the sky to will the tears away.

“Just take a page out of my book and take what you’re feeling to change and be better. No more apologies. Don’t be sorry, be better,”

“You sure you got everything?,” Reid packed your diaper bag into the front while you buckled Noelle into her carseat.

“Yeah I got my cooler for the bricks. My pump, extra clothes, extra wipes-,” you continue to list other items and at this point you’re not listing them to Reid, you’re listing them because you’re scared. 

“You got this,” Ms. Ernie kisses your cheek and you look at her with worry, “Don’t look at me like that. You both are going to be okay. He’s been groveling for weeks on end, he’s been respectful, if you want to back out I’m sure he’d understand?,”

“No! No. I think I’m ready. She’s already 6 months old now, he deserves this much,” It’s crazy to think that you’ve been at this with Noah for about a few months now.

You’re wrapped in an embrace of them both, Reid whispering words of reassurance as he pulls away, helping you settle in the car.

“Let us know when you get there, okay?,” Ms. Ernie waves from her front step.

You assure her that you’ll do just that. A lively wave is sent their way as you pull out of the driveway to make it to a house that you once called home, a house that could have been a home for Noelle. 

You didn’t need a GPS, you’d never forget the way there even if you tried. You could drive there blindfolded. The drive really wasn’t that long and a part of you wishes it was because when you pull up your stomach is full of butterflies. 

He’s probably nervous too. Don’t stress about it. As if he was waiting by the door, he’s out on the porch, wiping his hands on a paper towel when you exit your vehicle.

“Need help with anything?,” a nervous smirk across his face, he looks like he’s going to throw up at any second.

“Wanna grab the diaper bag and cooler?,”

He didn’t give a verbal answer. He was already down the steps and to your car before you finished asking. You grabbed Noelle’s carrier and waited for him to get the other items. Seeing him with the lavender diaper bag on his shoulder stirred a feeling inside of you. He looked like a dad, he looked good. A yearn made itself present in your body, you just wanted to be a family.

“Follow me,” 

You could tell he was excited, excited but tense. He didn’t want to fuck this up. 

Once you’re settled in the house, he heads upstairs, mumbling that he’ll be right back. When taking your jacket off to hang it on the second hook on the back of the door, you realize the hook still has your name on it. He never took it off, this was your hook, everyone knew not to hang their things on it. And beside yours, you see one for Noelle. Noah, Y/N and Noelle. Your fingers brush against the names and a smile creeps on your face.

“I know she probably already has one but I figured it would be nice if she had one here. She’ll probably end up falling asleep depending on how long you stay,”

You turn around to see a lavender playpen with her name on the side.

“In a lot of the videos and pictures you showed me, she’s wearing lavender so..,”

“Noah,” you coo, stepping over to him, “That’s so sweet,” 

You turn to Noelle in her carrier and unbuckle her, “If you wanna go wash your hands, you can hold her,”

“Yeah?,” his eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. He didn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s jogging into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. About a good minute later he’s rushing back in but he seems hesitant. 

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, “I show her pictures just like I show you pictures. She knows you. She won’t really be fussy” 

You cradle her while handing her over to him.

“She likes to be held like this, just support her neck,” 

Noah takes her from you softly, his large hands make her seem so small, even at six months. He stares at her in awe and sits down gently. Noelle babbles at him, waving her hands and smiling. 

“Hiii, baby girl,” 

You can hear the tears as he speaks to her and you take a seat beside him, not bothered by how close you were.

“I’m your papa,” he chokes on his words, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger, “You’re so beautiful just like your mama,”

There weren’t many words said as Noah soaked in this moment with you watching. His breath is silently hitching from his tears but he only cries harder when Noelle reaches out and touches his cheek, seemingly wiping a tear away.

Noah sits back on the sofa, setting his feet flat on the cushion so he could lay Noelle on his thighs so that she was sitting up.

“You’re so sweet,” he kisses her hand, causing her to squeal and giggle. He looks to you with wide eyes and a bright smile

“You were right!,” 

“I told you!!,” you lean closer and watch the way Noelle is taking in the moment as well. She stares at Noah with a look of bewilderment, she’s never been around him physically yet relaxes into him like she’s known him since day one. She knows that’s her papa.

“Thank you,” he says simply, “I’m far from deserving but thank you so much, Y/N,”

“You deserve to be a dad, Noah. And she deserves one,”

“I won’t fuck this up,”

“You better not,” you poke his cheek, “Because she needs you… we both do,”

You let Noah record videos of him and her, letting him make up for lost time. He carefully danced around the living room with her while playing happy baby songs.

“I heard songs like this make them happy!,” he insisted. Each time she squealed he hugged her tighter, absolutely adoring the sound of his baby laughing with him. You couldn’t help but record some videos of your own, wanting to look back at this moment. 

The foundation still needed some work but what is life without the effort? What’s love without effort? He said he wouldn’t screw it up this time and you’re holding him to his word.

“She’s down for bed,” Noah comes down the stairs, heading to the kitchen to return with two mugs 

“She’s never fallen asleep that fast,” taking a mug from him, you smell your favorite tea in the way he used to make it. 

“Does she wake you up throughout the night? I can be on baby duty so you can rest. U-unless you planned on going home tonight. I can drive you home, I don’t want you driving while you’re tired,” he offered.

“Can we stay?,” circling the rim of your cup, finding the heat from your tea comforting. 

“You two always have a place here,” he sets the baby monitor on the table and takes a sip of his coffee. He was always a late night coffee drinker, at least it was decaf, he just liked the taste. 

There was a comfortable lull that fell over you two and sitting on this very couch in this living room felt like home, like you belonged here. You made a home out of the cabin in the countryside but *this… this is where you felt like you were meant to be. Drinking your warm beverages on the couch while your child slept, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Noah randomly stands up and turns the tv on. He’s getting a game console, plugging it up and connecting the remotes. You’re watching in confusion while he does this all as if he’s on a mission. 

Once he gets everything connected he pulls out a game case. 

Michael Jackson: The Experience

“Nooaaaaaah,” you say suspiciously, “What are you doing?,” setting your cup on the side table, you watch with a questioning frown when he moves the coffee table

“Stand up,” insisting with a wide grin, he takes your hand despite your wariness

“What are we doing, Sebastian?” 

“We’re putting all those nights practicing with the music videos to use. I scored these at a yard sale and figured we could dance to some good ole Michael like we used to,” 

He hands you a Wii remote and the butterflies erupt again, spotting the same broken lampshade that he still hasn’t gotten rid of. 

“You think you still got it?,” you tease, wrapping the band around your wrist. 

He scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes, “You wish I lost it,” 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” 

He side eyes you with a little smirk, choosing the song he wanted to dance to. You expected Thriller, hell maybe even Ghosts. But he surprised you when he chose Do You Remember the Time

“If I win. I get to take you out on a romantic date,” he sighs triumphantly, he knows since you two started to rebuild something new, you didn’t want to get too romantic just yet.

“Okay,” you nod confidently, much to his surprise, “But if I win… you’re on baby duty for a night. That means getting up to feed her, change her diaper, cuddle-,”

“All I’m seeing is a win-win situation here,” turning back to the screen he hits play, “Bring your A game. I’ve been practicing for this very moment,” 

He says it as if he’s joking but he was serious. This was a song you two spent many nights listening to, belting it at the top of your lungs during late night drives, to dancing in the kitchen to it after date night. 

This little gesture may seem like just a night of dancing to a game to you but it was much more to him. So when the gold room appeared on the screen after picking your characters, he became timorous.

The beat begins and you feel a little silly following the movements at first. You hadn’t danced with Noah in ages but he probably feels just as goofy. You notice him missing a few beats and peak to see him adoring you, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, the way your eyes move across the screen, trying to focus.

“You’re not gonna win if you keep staring at me, Sebastian!,” 

“Fuck!,”

~Do you remember when we fell in love? We were young and innocent then~

You trip over your feet as the dance begins to incorporate footwork, glaring at Noah when you hear him laughing at you.

~Do you remember, back in the fall? We’d be together all day long~

You bend your knees and shimmy your feet along the carpet while Noah stands tall and moves in the opposite direction over you. Feeling him this close, despite just playing a game, had your heart palpitating. 

You never thought you’d have nights like this again. With anyone, let alone Noah. 

You hear Noah singing to himself while he follows the dance moves to a T, seeing his score get higher than yours had you ready to wreck his streak.

“Do you remember the time when weeee first met, girl?” He sang obnoxiously while looking at you, purposely singing off key. You snicker at his expressions, missing a move but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Noah seemed so carefree and comfortable in this moment that it started to overshadow what had once hurt you, somewhat putting it on the back burner. 

~Those sweet memories, will always be dear to me~

You and Noah are now face to face, chest to chest, you two seemed to forget the game. Both of you breathing heavily from laughing and going all out on the dance moves.

“You’re gonna lose,” you pipe up, turning around to focus back on the game. You knew that if you stood there any longer you’d have kissed him. 

Noah seemed to snap out of his daze, immediately hopping back into where he was. You have to squat in front of him for the next move and it seems to last forever, feeling the burn like you’re in the gym.

“Oh my God!,” groaning in relief when you’re finally able to move from your position but the relief doesn’t last long when you’re made to go back, moving your arms up and feeling his hands touch yours. 

It sounds dramatic but you swear you feel a little tingle when he touches you. Maybe it was static or maybe it was the fact you missed his touch. A sensation that you felt so safe in, so comfortable and loved. 

You two slide away from each other, swinging your arms back and forth. You’re still following the screen but Noah decides to freestyle. Falling to his knees to sing the song to you, you’d worry about waking Noelle up but she was a deep sleeper. 

“Do you remember girl?,” he holds his fists up, singing passionately, “On the phone! You and me!! Till dawn, 2 or 3. What about us, GIRL!!,” 

You can’t help but throw your head back in entertainment at his dramatics. He was a performer for sure.

“Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya- in the park, on the beach! You and me, in Spain! What about, what about- rrrap tap tap, rrrap tap tap!,”

His ad libs bounce off the walls and you’re losing it.

“You look insane!,” you say over his off-key singing. 

He continues to sing despite your judgment, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you playfully

“Yeah! Yeah! Wooo!!,” 

The game is now complete and you fall back on the couch to catch your breath.

“I freestyled and I STILL won!,” he claps and points at you, “Pick out your prettiest dress, doll face because we’re going on a DATE!,” 

He stands in front of you, hands on his hips in victory and all you can do is cherish the view.

“Come here,” you stand before him, hearing your heart pound in your ears as he steps forward until his chest is level with your eyes, his famous chain glinting in the light on the room.

“What’s up?,” the confidence he just displayed was now replaced with diffidence. 

“You better not hurt me again,” it was strange being this close to him, “If you hurt me you’ll not only lose me but Sunshine as well and I don’t want that for her. So if this is going to happen- you talk to me when your insecurities set in. You talk to me before you self sabotage. You talk to me no matter what so that you continue to show up for our little girl. Do you understand me?,”

Noah nods his head so quickly that you think it just might fall off and roll away.

“I understand. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I love you and I love our baby. I was a fool to fuck up the first time. I won’t be that again,” 

“Good,” you nod, stepping away before patting his cheek with a sly grin.

“Because you’re on baby duty tonight,” 

His jaw drops at your antics, he doesn’t mind really. He’s starting to feel like an actual father now.

“But I won!!,”

You wake up abruptly to Noelle screeching, a type of cry you’ve never heard before and you turn to see Noah’s spot empty. Scrambling to get out of bed, you rush downstairs to see him panicking, tears in his eyes and red in the face

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, frantically trying to calm her 

“What happened??,” you kept your composure, not wanting to stress him out anymore than he already is. He hands you Noelle and he pulls at his roots, absolutely distraught and upset with himself.

“She was hungry and I… I heated up her milk for too long. Fuck, Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-,”

“Noah,” a soft hand on his chest, “It happens. She’s okay,” 

“I made her cry,” 

“She’s okay,” you reassure, “See,” you wipe her tears and she’s just left whimpering now.

You take his hand to sit him down at the table and give Noelle back to him despite his fear

“Don’t tense up. She’ll feel it and become fussy. Relax,” 

He took heed to your words, relaxing so that Noelle could follow suit.

“I should have put a brick in the fridge to thaw,” you mention, “I usually do if I know I’ll be too tired to breastfeed but I was exhausted so it slipped my mind. A brick will usually thaw in the fridge overnight and when it’s time, just set it in a cup of warm water for a few minutes and you’ll be good to go,” 

You take her bottle and run it under some cool water, testing it on your wrist, deeming it cool yet warm enough for her to drink. You sit beside Noah and hand him the bottle. 

“Here, you’re all set. 45 degree angle while she drinks,” you instruct. He follows your words and Noelle hums around the bottle, cuddling into Noah’s shirtless chest, “She likes skin to skin contact while feeding. Now she’ll really know you’re her papa,” 

You realize this is the same table he broke your heart at, tracing the pattern of the mahogany wood. You wouldn’t let that night haunt you anymore. Here’s to new memories. Now, this table will be remembered as the table that he fed your daughter for the first time, a learning experience for him. 

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, honey,” he whispered to her, kissing her forehead while her eyes fluttered sleepily, “I’m still learning but it won’t happen again,” 

You know his words were directed to you as well, finding solace in the reassurance. 

Once you teach him to burp her, the three of you make your way upstairs and back to bed.

“You can put her in the crib,” climbing into the bed that was once yours to claim. He took the time to build her crib and didn’t even wanna put her in it.

“I will once I’m ready to sleep, I just want to spend time with her is all,” 

Despite the infant sleeping, he wasn’t ready to put her down. His hair was thrown all over his head, his eyes here heavy but he was willing to fight sleep just to hold her in his arms for as long as he could. 

“I missed out on enough, I just wanna hold her,” 

“Okay,” you nod, sitting up and scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder, “Sing, you are my sunshine, to her. It’s her favorite song and I think she would like to hear it from you,” 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he begins with ease, “You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” 

“You are my star shine,” you add in, “My only star shine,” 

You reach over to hold her small hand, resting your hand on his chest,

“I love you so much, each night and day,” 

Noah leans his head on yours, finding comfort in the words you sing. 

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my star shine away,” 

You look up to Noah, refusing to move your head off his shoulder so he rears back to look at you, your face being illuminated by the little nightlight you had plugged in for Noelle.

“You are my love shine, my only love shine,” he sings lowly, surprising you that he even knows the third verse of the nursery rhyme, “I miss you so much when you’re away,” 

The smile that appeared on your face was one he’ll never forget, especially when you begin to harmonize with him quietly, watching the way Noelle snuggles into his chest as if she can’t get close enough to him. 

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” you two sing together, curling into him even more when he plants a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Please don’t take my love shine awaaaay,” 

Days had passed since that night. You and Noah alternate every couple of nights of whose place to stay at. He finally got the pleasure of meeting Ms. Ernie and Reid officially, offering his gratitude to the people who kept you and Noelle safe when he fell short. Despite his own shortcomings, they welcomed him with open arms. 

Reid currently had Noelle in the living room, both of them watching some cartoon movie while Ms. Ernie helped you with your hair, preparing for the night Noah had planned for you. 

“Do I look like I’m trying too hard?,” you turn to her, concern painted all over your face.

“You look like a beautiful youngin who is about to steal the heart of the love of their life,” 

“You flatter me,”

“Well it’s true,” she boops your nose and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You’re going to have fun!,” 

Noah wouldn’t exactly tell you what he had planned. He just said to dress in something comfortable and cute, so you stepped out of your comfort zone, going with a light floral dress, styling your hair to your comfort and a light face of makeup. 

When you heard the doorbell to your cabin go off, your stomach sank.

“Oh goodness!!,” turning to the smiling woman above you, “He’s here!! He’s 10 minutes early!,”

A light rumble comes from her, shaking her head and standing you up, “You would have still freaked out even if he showed up on time. Head up there!,”

You didn’t have time to respond due to the doorbell ringing again. A nervous Noah stood on the other side, worried that maybe you changed your mind. When the door swung open, both of you were speechless. 

You stood there, radiant as ever with Noelle in your arms. A nervous grin framed your teeth and Noah watched as you rubbed Noelle’s back, not for her comfort but for yours. You were antsy. Just as beautiful as the first day he met you when he knocked your bus token out of your hand.

Noah stood there in a plain, white shirt tucked into a pair of sleek black joggers. You noticed he cut his hair, cutting the sides short and keeping the top longer. He recreated the outfit he wore when you two first bumped into each other.

“Hi,” your throat tight around the simple word.

“H-hi,” he had a hand behind his back and stuck the other out, “Nice to meet you, my name is Noah,” 

You frown at his words until you realize this is a reintroduction.

“Hi, Noah. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you,” 

Both of you are similar to giddy teenagers falling in love for the first time. He handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you were quick to gasp. You loved flowers, you loved it even more when he gifted them to you.

Inviting him in, Noelle was quick to reach for him and he spun her around while you retrieved the glass milk bottle you received from Ms. Ernie to use as a vase.

“Looking gooooood!,” the elderly woman entered the room and pinched Noah’s cheek lightly.

“I can clean up nice!,” 

Reid entered the space and gave his compliments to the both of you and caught sight of the flowers, nudging Noah.

“Nice choice,” he whispered.

Once both of you give Noelle a ton of kisses, Noah takes your hand and guides you out to the car so you all could get your evening started.

“You gonna tell me what you have planned yet?,” hounding him as he begins to drive. 

“Dinner,” he answers, a smirk on his face to tell you that it wasn’t just dinner.

“Why so cryptic?” you poke him

“Relaaaaax,” he reaches over to grab your hand and squeeze. The two of you missing this simple gesture, feeling safe like this, like all will be okay, it will- but you’ll never get tired of the warm feeling of security. 

Noah took you out to your favorite restaurant, a nice night of expensive wine and taking bites of the other’s food. A bunch of blushing, a bunch of butterflies, laughter and unspoken I love yous. 

Now you find yourself with your hand in his, strolling downtown, him insisting that the night isn’t over. When you stop walking, you peer up to him and see an uncertain smirk on his face. Looking up to the sign on the building, you see what he had planned.

“Kiln of Sunshine,” you read aloud, “Couple’s pottery?”

All he does is laugh at your surprise and leads you inside. There aren’t many couples but it’s a nice intimate place. Dim lights strung up on the ceiling, custom printed aprons with your names on it, which he helps you put on and tie. 

When you’re directed to your designated spots, he sits behind you while you sit in front of the wheel.

“Welcome to the Kiln of Sunshine! We are a couple of potters who met through our love of art,” a young woman stands in front of the class, it’s hard to listen when Noah is so close like this. He still makes you so damn nervous.

“We created this abode to help other couples not only find a new hobby, but also grow together by means of communication and teamwork through making art!” The woman’s husband added with excitement. 

You look over your shoulder to see Noah already looking at you

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers. You have to tuck your chin into your shoulder to hide the fact your face was burning up at his compliment. 

The couple teaching gives you all step by step instructions to begin and then it’s just you and Noah left to your own devices. They gave you the guidelines but now it’s up to you and Noah to decide what you two create.

Much like a relationship. 

“Here, let’s try this,” Noah’s large, clay covered hands form to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Pinch here,”

“Maybe we should coil instead,” suggesting lightly. 

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, taking in your point of view, “I think it’ll turn out better that way,”

Noah hands you the wet sponge, watching the way your tongue sticks out from your lips as you concentrate. 

“I brought us here because I came to a lot of conclusions during our time apart,” his body frames yours like a puzzle piece, after a while, instead of you taking the lead, you let his hands guide yours now.

“Yeah?,” 

“Pottery teaches us a lot about accepting faults- appreciating the imperfections and flaws that can turn into something beautiful,” he moves your hands to pinch the clay in certain spots and watch your piece come to life. 

“Furthermore, we have patience and persistence- pottery, like relationships, demands patience at every turn. To keep going in the face of difficulties, even if you don’t see the results right away. It takes time to mold something beautiful” 

Noah kept going and you’d be lying if his words weren’t tear jerking. While you two were rekindling, you had some introspective moments of your own. Realizing that there are some things you could have done differently yourself. Especially since finding out about the mental battles he was facing during the last few months of your relationship, which caused him to break it off.

You were so caught up in your own mind that you didn’t realize Noah’s actions were due to the fact that it wasn’t Noah- he pulled back from you because he was trying to figure his own labyrinthine mind out, that’s why he kept asking for time, he just felt ashamed to say it out loud. 

Both of you got time, even if it wasn’t in the most ideal form.

“I’m still learning and growing and I know I have a long way to go for you to fully trust me because of those faults, but I’m patient and I’m not going anywhere,” 

You felt him kiss your shoulder, causing goosebumps to flourish on your skin.

“Well… maybe we won’t need the water bowl to wet the sponge anymore since you’ve got me crying over here!,” 

The laughter that erupts from the two of you is boisterous, providing comedic relief in the midst of him expressing his emotions. 

“You two are doing great over here!!,” the instructor complimented the piece the two of you were crafting.

You felt the swell of pride in your chest because whether she was talking about your pottery piece or not, you and Noah are doing great.

The night progressed beautifully. You had to leave your piece at the place overnight so it could get fired and glazed before you took it home to decorate yourselves. So, Noah took you on a stroll, your hand in his, taking in the view of the pretty lights set up downtown. Finding yourselves in front of the big fountain in the center, you stick your hand out to him

“C’mon, big money. Hand over a quarter,” 

He quickly digs in his pocket and hands you a shiny coin in which you hold up to your mouth, whispering to it before throwing it in the fountain. The light plopping sound it made was satisfying to you.

“What did you wish for?,”

You notice him taking his shoes and socks off, rolling up his pant legs and you feel suspicion rising in your belly.

“That would beat the purpose of a wish!,” 

“Take your shoes off,” 

“No! I know what you’re about to do and I spent too much time on my hair and make up!,”

Noah sat you down on the edge of the fountain, removing your shoes for you

“You know that you don’t need your makeup and hair all done up for me to find you absolutely breathtaking… right?,” 

He gives you no time to reply before he’s standing you up and bringing you into the fountain, twirling you around under the raining streams. 

“Noah we’re gonna get in trouble!!,” squealing in his arms, trying to get out of them. He sets you down but before you can scold him, his wet hands are framing your face to pull you in for the long awaited kiss that he’s been wanting to give you since the day you left. 

You felt like you were in a movie. The hopeless romantic that lived within you was thriving. You were stuck in your spot for a second, realizing that since starting over, this is your first kiss and he made it so damn romantic. Pulling him in by his shirt, your lips follow his, flowing with the same desire and unspoken words.

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

We’re going to be okay.

I don’t hate you

I love you.

I always will.

Damning your own instinctive need to breathe, you pull away from him, pressing your fingertips to your lips, still completely shocked by it all.

“I’m sorry I just… I couldn’t fight it anymore,” he looked so ethereal, wet hair sticking to his face, droplets on his cheeks and big, brown eyes staring back at you with blown pupils.

“Until the day we are returned to dust to the universe, I will love you and cherish you. I will be what I should have always been. And even then… even after we are just dust- I will find you in another timeline and continue to be that and more”

Life is a beautiful thing now. It was no longer grey and neither of you felt like you were just getting by, you were finally living. 

You didn’t want to give up your cabin, so despite all the memories the house back in the city had, you two decided to make more memories out here.

Your house was full now, filled with friends you missed dearly, all of them soaking up time with Noelle, getting used to being uncles. 

“Nuh uh!,” Noah shouts, “Folio, wash your hands before holding her,” 

“What the hell! I just did!!,” he defended, arms halfway out, ready to reach for his niece.

“Not long enough! Sing happy birthday twice if you have to- and don’t swear around my daughter!,” 

Noah fit the dad role real well. He was proud to be the father of your child. He doted on Noelle, always took pictures with her, sang to her (a lot better than you ever did) and though Noah had a love for the city, he loved being out here with you two, taking her on daily walks around the countryside while you tended to the chickens and garden. 

You thought he’d put up a bigger fight due to his career but- things were simple out here and being out here made him feel normal and domestic. This is what life was always supposed to feel like and it’s what the two of you had always envisioned. 

“Everyone get ready, dinner’s almost finished!,” Ms. Ernie hollered. She loved the guys, it didn't take long for her to warm up to people and just like she took you under her wing, she did the same for them. She even listens to their music now, she says Hedonist is her favorite. 

Folio doesn’t care to make his plate now that he has Noelle, making her squeal and laugh at his silly faces. 

Matt bumps you as he moves past you to get a drink out of your fridge, “I told you he wouldn’t take her from you,” 

“You only get one ‘I told you so’ in our friendship and you used it well. Thanks, Matty,” 

During the time you and Noah were reconnecting, you had to rebuild your friendships with the guys as well. You and Matt now have your farmer’s market dates back. You, Jolly, Davis and Folio have your bowling on Thursday nights while you and Bryan go to the movies every Tuesday because they’re half off. And Nicholas- the one who truly is like a brother, both of you had your chess game that you abandoned but he kept the board set in hopes that one day you’ll come back. 

He taught you how to play ages ago and when you finally got the hang of it, you two matched all the time, some matches going for days, this match being the longest ever due to a hiatus. 

He had the board with him, setting it up on the counter, both of you moving your pieces throughout the day.

“I know how to beat you,” staring at the board, he comes to stand beside you.

“Yeah?,” grinning as if he wasn’t about to lose.

“You have nowhere to go, Nicky,” you pick your Queen up, moving her to h5, threatening his f7. You watch him frown at your movements and you have to hide the smirk on your face. If you win, you’ll no longer be tied. 

You move your Queen to take his f7 and you check his king.

“No!,”

“Checkmate!,” clapping in victory, you jump up and down, “I still got it!!,”

“You got lucky!,” 

Despite him losing, he was always a good sport. He did teach you after all.

After dinner, Reid provided dessert, topped with a delicious honey glaze he made from his bees. Matt started a fire pit outside which left only you, Noah and Noelle in the kitchen as you two arranged to put her down for bed. He had her wrapped up against his chest while you prepared his coffee and your tea.

Noelle cooed against his chest, eyes fluttering and trying to fight sleep.

“I love you,” he searched your face, feeling blessed that he can say the words to you again. Your eyes sparkle in the warm light of the kitchen, feeling blessed to hear those words once again. You’ll never get tired of hearing it, especially because it’s all different now. It’s healthier, happier.

“And I love you,” of course you do- it was muscle memory. 

After lightly clinking your mugs together, your eyes catch sight of the fruit bowl you and Noah made in your pottery class. Your painted hand print on one side, his on the other and Noelle’s in the middle with 4 simple words written across it.

You are my Sunshine.

Stepping closer to him, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you stood in silence just enjoying each other’s presence. Finding joy in the laughter of your loved ones outside. 

All is well and always will be. Ms. Ernie was right. Sometimes second chances are worth it. 

“Thanks for adding to the sunshine instead of taking it away,”

Noah could hear the relief in your voice that things turned out for the better. He’d never give this up. Home isn’t a place, home is this moment right here and every moment after.

“Until we are dust returned to the universe.”

First and foremost i wanted to thank everyone for their patience while i worked on this!! this story means so much to me and i am grateful for the love i received on part one and hope you all enjoy this part even if it’s a little long!!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment as it helps us writers out a lot!!!

much love!

~Berry 🫐

tags: @dravenskye @babs-96 @tech-depression-inventory @magnificentstrawberryomen @mrscevans @tinyfairies @mxddymay @themorticians-world @rainy-darling @lma1986 @darknightstarryeyes @thisbicc @lilhobgobbler @lovethe-void @cind6547 @flowery-mess @widowsofchaos @abiomens @amelia-acero @collapsedglasshouses @poppy-in-the-woods @rostoken @dkxxm @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingintothegrey @blairboo

[spicycinnabun]

part 3 of yogi verse ❀ rated: g ❀ pair: buck/tommy ❀ ficlet from tommy's pov ❀ tags: au, yoga!instructor tommy, shy!buck

Tommy had meant it as a joke. He didn’t really think Evan had hurt himself on purpose to gain his attention, so he was a bit surprised when a pretty shade of pink bloomed across Evan’s cheeks right before his eyes—almost like he’d been caught.

“T-that’s not why I—” Evan scratched his eyebrow right over that unique birthmark, looking down for a moment, then peeked back up at Tommy beneath his eyelashes. “I just slipped.”

Why was Evan so cute? Dangerously cute. 

“Okay,” Tommy agreed. He smiled, apologetic. “I’m only teasing you.”

And flirting shamelessly. He couldn’t resist.

Tommy assessed Evan again. He had improved with the exercises, but Tommy had noticed him favoring that one leg. An old injury that liked to act up, maybe?

“Keep the ice there for a few more minutes,” he advised, nodding towards the towel-wrapped ice pack hanging limply in Evan’s grip. Tommy fought the urge to take his hand and help him press it against his knee. Inappropriate, Kinard.

There were professional boundaries, and Tommy had nearly crossed them in the last class. He’d backed off a lot since then, which also seemed to be a mistake since Evan had gotten hurt due to his negligence.

Evan pressed the ice pack to his knee. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry I disrupted your class.”

Tommy shook his head. “Hey, no, It’s alright. Accidents happen.” 

Evan didn’t look convinced but didn’t say anything further. Tommy had heard Evan chatting enthusiastically with Maddie when they’d gotten there and they started unrolling their mats, so he assumed that this quietness wasn’t his regular M.O. He could’ve been in more pain than he was letting on, too.

“I’ll include alternate poses for our next class. Some of the ones we do can be hard on certain joints. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt again.”

Evan smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really. I just need to follow directions better. You don’t need to make any special exceptions for me.”

Tommy frowned slightly. “It’s no problem, Evan.”

That was the bare minimum he could do, honestly. Altering his lesson plan was nothing. It was his job to make sure his routines benefitted everyone. Otherwise, what the hell were they paying him for? 

Also, it was more a reflection on himself as a teacher than Evan as a student if Evan couldn't follow his directions. But he could, and he had done exceptionally well for a beginner in an intermediate class. Even if he had stubbornly refused to start with the beginner poses Tommy had suggested last time. 

He opened his mouth to say as much, but Lucy, their pilates instructor who’d stepped in to help, beckoned him over with a judgy eyebrow and impatient jerk of her head. 

“Duty calls, huh?” Evan said. 

Tommy glanced at the clock and stood up. “It does. Take care, okay, kid?” 

Evan laughed. It was self-deprecating, even to Tommy’s ears. “Yeah.” 

Hm. Tommy couldn’t exactly dwell—he had to finish the class with their cool-down sequence—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also thinking about those sad puppy eyes the entire time.

༻❁༺

As everyone finished packing up and headed out, Tommy couldn’t help but cross his arms and watch the Buckleys. Evan was limping a little but trying to act like he wasn’t. Maddie, his sister, who Tommy knew much better after having her in his class most of the year, put her hand on Evan’s shoulder and rubbed it. 

Tommy had heard about Evan through Maddie. Enough that it almost felt like he knew the guy, too. She was clearly very proud of him, and they were close-knit siblings. Younger than her, Evan worked with the LAFD. He was sweet and comical, bullheaded and frustrating in equal amounts, and some of her stories about him had made Tommy full-on belly laugh. 

She waved goodbye, and Tommy waved back. Evan glanced over his shoulder almost shyly, and Tommy waved at him, too. Then, against better judgment, he followed it up with a wink. 

He tried not to smirk when Evan, clearly flustered, nearly walked into the door. An amused exhale escaped him as Evan went cherry red a second later, visible even from across the room, and fled to the parking lot.

God, Tommy was in fucking trouble.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Tall Tales | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: mentions of smut, canon gore, canon violence

Word Count: 3986

A/N: This episode was a challenge to write, but so much effing fun. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

(he's so sexy in this gif i'm nutting goodbye goodnight i'm gone)

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Dean refused to let you hunt for the next two weeks following your concussion. You were pissed off, but you knew it was for the best. When the brothers settled on a case, they stuck you in a motel room and would occasionally come check on you between hunting. They found something at a college in Tennessee, and that was about all they told you before putting you to bed for the next week. 

When Sam would come check on you early on, it was to make sure you had enough water or food in your mini fridge. He’d always bring a book with him to sit with you while you rested. When you could finally tolerate the sound of other people’s voices again without going cross-eyed, you got him to read it to you. 

He snorted. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?” 

You deadpanned at him. “Yes, asshole. Please?”

“Okay,” he laughed. The book was called The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt, and you were completely fascinated. Sam’s voice would often soothe you to sleep as he recounted bits of Egypt’s history to you.

Between Sam’s visits and hours spent staring at the ceiling or pacing, Dean would visit. Most often, he’d come to your room at night. Not for any sexual purposes; in fact, when you suggested you have sex, he was fervently against it.

“Why?” you’d asked. 

“ ‘Cause you’re still hurt,” he replied simply, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. “And…”

“And?” you prompted, tilting your head up at him.

“I just wanna be with you right now,” he admitted quietly. 

You smiled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling into him.

***

Sam was clearly pissed off with Dean the next time he came to visit you. 

“What’s goin’ on?” you’d asked.

He sighed, “Just Dean being… Dean. “ He sat at the foot of your bed as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. “How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” you smirked. 

Sam made a bitch face at you. “Really? Elvira?”

“Of course. I love her,” you giggled.

“Seriously. How is it?” 

You shrugged. “Same ol’ same ol’. I’ll live. How’s your, uh, mental state?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that.” Sam shook his head. 

“C’mon, you can tell me anything. What’s goin’ on?” you questioned, scooching closer to him. 

The brunet seemed thoughtful for a minute. “I, uh, don’t really know.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I’m really gettin’ worried, (Y/N). After Wandall and what I did to Jo—”

You cut him off. “Sam, that wasn’t you. We’ve been over this—”

“Yeah, but still. It’s been really bothering me.” You replied, “Well, yeah, that’s to be expected. Meg took you for a hell of a ride.” You thought for a second about your words. “Gross.”

Sam laughed before becoming serious again. He seemed to be thinking deeply about how to talk to you. “I’m really worried about what’s happening to me. Especially since…”

“Since what?” you prompted.

“Since you wouldn’t shoot.” You dropped your head back, sighing. “Sam, we’ve been over this. If you really go dark side, I’ll do it. But it seemed like your conscious mind wasn’t doing those things. It seemed like psychosis, almost. I’m not gonna kill you over that.”

“Well, then, when does it end?” he argued. “Conscious or not, I killed someone. And you saw it happen. And you still wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, Sam. You’re my best friend. It’s gonna take a lot for me to gank you,” you scoffed.

He softened a bit and sighed. “I get it,” the brunet muttered. “I just… I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to it every day. And I don’t know how to stop it. And Dean’s freaked, but he won’t talk to me about it. I’m sick of him pretending that everything’s fine.”

“Well, you know how he is,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Still.”

“I hate to tell you this,” you began, fiddling with the hem of the quilt on your lap, “but the more freaked out you are, the more susceptible you are to—” “To demonic possession,” he finished. “Yeah, I know.” “And if that’s what this ‘dark side’ thing is supposed to be, we gotta get you back under control,” you continued. 

Sam nodded pensively. A mischievous look crossed his face suddenly. “So, uh, how’s things with you and—?”

“Oh, god,” you groaned, flopping back on your head. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve seen the two of you. I’m not completely blind,” he chortled. “So, talk.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t— I just— with everything going on, I don’t wanna… go there, y’know?”

He made a face at you.

You chucked a pillow at him. “I’m not talking about our sex life, dipshit. I don’t wanna make him commit to me with everything happening. But, then again, we’re hunters. We’re never not gonna have tons of shit goin’ on.”

“I mean, do you want a relationship with him?” Sam asked.

“Eh, I don’t know,” you shrugged unconvincingly.

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine, I do.” Sam laughed.

“But I don’t want to want that, y’know?” You cringed at yourself. “God, I sound like a sixth grader with a crush.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam snorted. “But I’m happy for you guys. I want you guys to be happy.”

***

The next time Dean came to visit, he was carrying a case of beer. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you asked, throwing your journal aside.

“Alright, fine, I’ll leave,” he smirked, turning back to the door.

“No, no!” you said, bounding over to him. You spun him around and kissed him gently. “Stay.”

“Always,” he said against your lips.

***

Something you were beginning to learn about Dean was his love languages. You were big on psychology. Though you knew he wasn’t and would never let you pick his brain aloud, it was fun to do in your head. Given the way he redressed your head wound in the earlier days of your admittedly severe concussion, made you dinner, and did your laundry, you deduced he liked to give love through acts of service. 

However, he seemed to be hellbent on not receiving it in that way. He refused to let you redress the wound on his shoulder until the dressings Jo put on it were saturated in seeping fluid. 

“Dean, you’re gonna start growing a science experiment in there. Let me help you,” you’d said, more stating it than begging. 

“I’m fine, (Y/N). Seriously.”

You got your first aid box out of your duffel and threw over your shoulder, “This is not up for debate. Come here.” 

With a reluctant sigh, he did eventually listen to you. Given the beers he brought you, the crappy movies, the card games, and hours spent just in each other’s company, you figured his receiving love language was quality time. And you were more than happy to give that to him.

***

On day twelve, you were insistent you could spar with Dean again. He was insistent, however, that he wouldn't do it.

"Dean! C'mon, man! It doesn't even hurt anymore," you protested, putting your hair up in a ponytail.

"(Y/N), I'm not gonna risk hurting you—"

"Dean!" you warned. "I'm rusty. If I'm gonna help you guys with this hunt in two days, please, dude, I'm begging you."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

You smirked, preparing your fighting stance. He eyed you challengingly, his smirk encouraging you to rush him. You did so, and he easily dodged you. However, you had prepared for that scenario, and whipped your back leg around to hit him in the stomach while he dodged you.

Dean grunted, and you jumped back from him. You aimed a punch toward his jaw, which he blocked easily. Several more punches were thrown between the two of you before you got fed up.

"Stop holding back!" you pushed.

"I"m not," he argued unconvincingly, throwing a sloppy left hook at you.

"Your form is shit, you're barely out of breath, and you're mostly on the defensive," you replied. "Stop holding back. You won't break me."

"(Y/N)—"

"Dean," you cut him off. "Vamps aren't gonna hold back. Whatever we're dealing with isn't gonna hold back. I'm healed enough. Quit it."

He finally did listen, making you incredibly happy. Beating Dean Winchester in hand-to-hand combat was nearly impossible given the size and muscular advantage he had against you. However, your father had trained you well on how to use speed and endurance to your advantage.

You fought with Dean for quite a few rounds before he knocked you back into the dresser in your motel room, and you hit the back of your head on the corner.

"See? I told you that was gonna happen," he said angrily. Although, you knew he was more angry with himself than he was with you.

"I'm fine," you replied, standing and rubbing the back of your head. "Again."

"No," Dean asserted, turning away from you. He shrugged his jacket back on.

"Wha— Where are you going?" you questioned, becoming aggravated with his stubbornness. "I said I'm fine, Dean. Again."

"We're done for today, (Y/N)," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

You scoffed. "I hate it when you do this."

"Yeah, well," Dean said gruffly, "I hate it when you act like a stubborn brat. Why is it so wrong that I don't wanna hurt you?"

"Because I'm asking you to!" you argued. "Hurt me! Don't fucking go easy on me! I already gave you my reasons why you shouldn't! I'd rather you hurt me than whatever we're up against!"

"I get that, (Y/N), but you can't ask me to fucking do that," he responded, turning to face you. "I won't hurt you."

You sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Yeah. See you," he grumbled. Then, you heard the door slam shut behind him.

***

You knew your fight had been stupid. You sat by the door all day, anxiously awaiting Dean's return. Just when you were beginning to lose hope that he'd show, you heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," you said awkwardly, opening the door for him to come in.

"Hey," he replied.

"I'm sorry. I was being stupid. I wouldn't do that to you if you asked me," you told him, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't wanna shut you out," he said, unable to meet your eyes.

You grabbed his hand, making him look up at you. "Hey, you know the only reason I asked you to do that was because I trust you so much, right?"

Dean nodded. "How's your head? I didn't hurt ya too bad, did I?"

You shook your head. "Can't even feel it," you smiled.

***

By day fourteen of concussion recovery, you were clawing at the walls; ready to hunt again. You strolled back into their room at nine in the morning that day to get a run-down of the case so you could get back to your job.

“Thank god you're here,” Dean exhaled, getting off the bed he was lounging on when you walked in.

You snorted. “What, two weeks without me and you can’t function?”

Dean scoffed. “No.” He paused. “Well, kinda.”

“What’s been happening? And… why couldn’t you tell me anything about the case before this moment?” you asked.

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d believe us,” Sam told you.

You sat in the chair across from him, crossing your arms. “Why not?”

“It's just, we've never seen anything like it—”

“Not even close,” Dean chimed in.

“Oh-kay, well, why don’t you start from the beginning?” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your slender legs, knowing this was going to be a long conversation.

Sam huffed, gearing up for his story. “So, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So we pretexted as reporters from the local paper—”

“Pretexted?” you cut Sam off. “Okay, professor.”

He made a bitchface at you. “Would ya let me talk?”

“Fine, fine. Keep going.”

“I found these two kids at a bar who had the professor for Ethics and Morality. Both of ‘em said there was nothing about this guy that would’ve suggested he’d jump— I mean, wife, kids, tenured— everything. And the girl— her name was Jen— said she didn’t think it was suicide,” Sam explained. “Apparently, there’s this urban legend from about thirty years ago about a girl having an affair with a professor. He broke it off, and she jumped out the window of room 669. Anybody who sees her dies.” Sam shot a look at Dean. “Dean was supposed to be talkin’ to other locals, figuring out if the urban legend was even real, but, he, uh, got distracted.”

You straightened in your seat, shooting a look at Dean. “Distracted how?”

“He was too busy slamming purple nurples to even string together a coherent sentence,” Sam scoffed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was not!” Dean protested. 

“What, so you never drank a purple nurple?”

“Yeah, maybe that, but I wasn’t wasted,” the older brother argued. “I just took a few shots with this classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories.”

You quirked a brow at Dean, jealousy beginning to burn in your chest.

“She was, uh, more interested in me than talking about ghost stories, but I cut her loose before the poor girl embarrassed herself,” Dean said.

“Ah, what a saint,” you cooed sarcastically.

Dean shot you a look. “And then Sam came over like, ‘Dean! What do you think you’re doing?’ He thought I was chattin’ her up instead of focusing on the case. Which, I wasn’t— thank you, Sam— everything was just blah, blah, blah, lecture, lecture, lecture,” Dean continued.

“Right! And that's how it really happened,” Sam scoffed.

Dean shrugged.

“Sam, did he make out with the chick or not?” you questioned.

Sam seemed taken aback. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? But no, he didn’t.”

The tension in your body released.

“And I don’t sound like that, Dean!” Sam turned back to his brother.

“That's what you sound like to me,” the older brother shrugged.

You flicked your gaze between the two of them. “What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing. No— it's nothing,” Sam sighed.

“No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple,” you snickered.

Dean got up and moved over to the kitchenette behind you. “No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins.”

“It’s conjoined twins!” Sam immediately corrected him.

“See what I mean?” Dean kept his gaze on you and gestured to his brother.

“Look, it—” the brunet sighed again, “—we've just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it.”

You nodded.

“So, anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime,” Sam continued. “We went and talked to the janitor, pretexting as electricians. He said he’d been workin’ there for six years, let us into the professors’ office, and told us he was the one who found the guy. He said the professor brought somebody up with him, and that was the thing to distract Dean from the nuts he was stuffing his face with.”

“Come on! I ate one, maybe two!” Dean protested.

“Just let me tell it, okay?” Sam shot back. “Anyway, janitor says the cops never found the girl the professor was with, and he didn’t even see her leave the room. But apparently, the professor brought girls up a lot. Maybe you missed that, Dean, since you were too busy snacking to focus on anything else.”

Dean glared at his brother.

“And get this?” Sam told you. “There is no room 669. And the professor’s office was clean of EMF. Next, we thought we should probably check the history of the building. Of course, I couldn’t do that, because my computer was frozen on bustyasianbeauties.com.” The younger brother spoke pointedly at Dean, who seemed dumbfounded, honestly. 

“Dude, I told you, I wasn’t on your laptop,” Dean grunted.

“Well, did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal chick?” you asked.

“No. History's clean,” Sam replied.

“Then it's not a haunting,” you stated.

“Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure,” Dean replied.

“What do you mean, you're not sure?”

Sam spoke up again. “Well… it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” You asked, feeling like you were pulling teeth.

“This next part, we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty fucking weird. Even for us,” Dean chuckled in disbelief. “Apparently, this guy got beamed up on his walk home. Right outside of Crawford Hall.”

“ ‘Beamed up’?” you questioned. “Like… Star Trek? Aliens?!”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Aliens,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people,” you said.

“Hey, believe me. We know,” the older brother replied.

“I’ve been hunting my whole life and never found any evidence of real alien abduction,” you shook your head. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Yeah, that's what we thought. But… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy,” Sam said.

Dean picked up the story then. “Found the guy drinkin’ himself into oblivion. He thought we wouldn’t believe him. Honestly, I still don’t know if I do.”

Sam cut his older brother off. “He said he blacked out, and when he woke up, he was, um—”

“He got probed,” Dean chuckled. “Some alien made him their bitch. And apparently, they did it a lot.”

Sam snickered. “He said… He said they made him slow dance, too. I mean, what the hell?”

You scoffed. “You guys are exaggerating again, right?”

“No, not at all,” Sam responded.

“Then this kid’s just nuts,” you stated.

“We're not so sure,” Dean argued. “There was a— a scorch mark in the ground outside Crawford Hall. Perfect circle.”

“Had to have been made by some kinda jet engine,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else it could’ve been. Given the timing alone, I figured, there’s gotta be some kind of connection.”

“I still wasn’t completely convinced,” Dean added. “I mean, between the angry spirit and sexed-up ET? What the hell. But what could we do? So we just kept on digging. We talked to this guy in probe-guy’s frat. Sammy did his whole 'I’m here for you, you brave little soldier’ speech, gave the guy a hug— the whole thing made me nauseous—”

“I never said that!” Sam argued.

“You're always saying pansy stuff like that,” Dean rebutted. “Would you let me talk?”

Sam quieted down, still upset.

“Anyway, the guy tells us that probe-guy was a huge dick. Apparently, he was going probe-level-stuff to his pledges this semester. And that was the one connection I could make out— both the victims are dicks. Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed. And that was when Sam started flippin’ out about his laptop— which I didn’t touch, by the way!— and started insulting my food—”

“It's not food anymore, Dean!” Sam cut in. “It's Darwinism.”

“I like it!” Dean scoffed.

Sam kept going. “All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!”

“And then he threatened my car, (Y/N),” Dean said. You knew he was serious, but his dramatics drew a laugh from you.

“Did you take his computer?” you questioned.

“Serves him right, but, no,” Dean replied.

Sam glared at Dean. “Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things.”

“Oh, that's right, yeah, 'cause he's Mr. Perfect.”

You talked over them. “Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next?”

Dean huffed. “There was one more victim.”

“Right. Now, we- we didn't see this one ourselves, either,” Sam began hesitantly. “We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy— He was, uh, he was a research scientist. Animal testing.”

“Yeah, you know, a dick,” Dean added. “Which fits the pattern. Cops didn't release the cause of death 'cause they had no clue what the cause was.”

“So, we checked it ourselves,” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah,” the older Winchester confirmed. “I’m tellin’ you, (Y/N), those remains were gnarly. Looked like somethin’ was chompin’ on him. Again, happened right outside Crawford Hall. Then, Sam found a belly scale. From an alligator.”

“Classic urban legend,” Sam broke in. “A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels.”

“This can’t get any weirder,” you shook your head.

“Then we tried callin’ Bobby—” Sam said, “since you were still down for the count. He was caught up in another case, though. So, we decided to search the sewer. We split up, each taking one end of campus.”

“Did you find anything?” you asked.

“Yeah, I found something, just not in the sewer,” Dean began, getting frustrated. “Sam fucked up my car. He let all the air out my tires. He’s gonna bend the rims!”

“Why would he do that?” you questioned.

“I don’t know! ‘Cause he thinks I screwed with his computer or something!” Dean responded angrily. 

“I told you, Dean, I didn’t go near your car,” Sam said. 

“And how do you even know it was him?” you asked.

“ ‘Cause I found his money clip by my car. I’m keepin’ it for reparations. For, uh, emotional trauma,” Dean snarked. “Then, he full-on tackles me trying to get it back.”

“Oh, come on, I did not tackle you—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Oh yeah? Then how’d we end up on the floor?”

“ ‘Cause you’re an idiot, that’s why!”

“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough,” you broke in. 

The two boys stared at you.

“You showed up about an hour after that,” Dean finished.

“I'm surprised at you two. I really am,” you sighed. “Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.”

“But I—” Sam argued.

“Shh! Shh,” you scolded. “And, Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”

“Yeah!” the younger brother petulantly cried, staring at Dean.

“Sam,” you warned. “And if you two would’ve pulled your heads out of your asses for a second, you probably would’ve figured out what we’re dealin’ with.”

Sam looked confused and looked over at Dean.

The older Winchester shrugged. “I got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” Sam looked back at you.

“A trickster,” you announced.

Dean snapped his fingers triumphantly. “That's what I thought.”

“What?! No, you didn't,” Sam argued.

You snickered. “You guys were the biggest clue.”

“What do you mean?” The brunet quirked his head at you.

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight,” you explained.

“The laptop,” Sam realized.

“The tires,” Dean immediately added.

“It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you as a result,” you nodded.

“So, what is it, what- what, spirit, demon, what?” Dean asked.

“Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia, Anansi in West Africa; dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Make ‘em vanish just as quick,” you continued. “The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target pricks, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor— deadly pranks, things like that.”

“(Y/N), what do these things look like?” Dean said, and you could tell he was realizing something.

“Lots of things, but human, mostly,” you shrugged.

Dean looked over at Sam. “And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?”

It took Sam a moment, and he frowned, but finally caught on. “The janitor.”

***

Sam and Dean decided they would stage a huge fight right where the trickster could see them discussing whether or not the janitor was your guy or not. As night began to fall, you were supposed to meet Sam outside Crawford Hall to help Dean confront the trickster because you knew he’d be looking for Dean after the two brothers separated.

You and Sam followed the slow, sexy eighties music down the hall to the auditorium, and you flanked both doors leading down into it. You stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to catch the trickster off-guard. You clutched your stake tightly as you took in the two women on a bed on the stage dressed in lingerie, looking at Dean like they were going to eat him alive. Anger bubbled in your chest at the thought.

“Look, man, I— I got to tell you, I dig your style, alright?” Dean told the trickster, who was seated in the audience with his back to you. Dean chuckled. “I do. I mean, the slow-dancing alien—”

“One of my personal favorites. Yeah,” the trickster said. You could hear the grin in his voice.

“But, uh, I can't let you go,” Dean told him.

“Too bad. Like I said, I like you. Sam was right. You shouldn't've come alone,” the trickster replied.

“Well, I'll agree with you there,” Dean said darkly.

You slammed the door shut behind you, as did Sam. 

“That fight you guys had outside— that was a trick?” the trickster asked.

Dean grinned.

The trickster hummed. “Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?”

A masked man with a chainsaw suddenly appeared near Sam and attacked him. You immediately ran to his aid, jumping on the back of the man and grabbing his arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Sam asked you over the roaring of the chainsaw.

“Probably, yeah!” you yelled. You wrapped your arms around the masked man’s neck, trying to close his airway. “Does this thing even have a windpipe? Can it even suffocate?”

Suddenly, you were flying down the steps of the auditorium.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt,” the janitor commented, chewing on a sandwich he was suddenly holding.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, getting up to charge him. 

One of the girls from the stage appeared before you suddenly, throwing you back down to the floor.

“Nice toss, gorgeous!” you heard the trickster cheer.

You reared back and kicked the woman squarely in the stomach, sending her stumbling back. You wrestled with her continuously, until suddenly, she disappeared from underneath you. You looked up to see Dean stabbing the trickster through the chest. 

“That’s my boy,” you smiled under your breath.

The trickster fell back into the seat behind him, dead.

Sam approached you and helped you off the ground. “You didn’t hit your head again, did you?”

“No, no,” you laughed. “I think I’m okay.”

Dean walked over to you and Sam. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam nodded.

“Well, I gotta say... he had style,” the older brother chuckled. You helped Dean up the steps, bearing the brunt of his weight given the many injuries he sustained.

“Alright, let's just get the hell out of dodge before somebody finds that body,” you said, putting Dean in the backseat of the car.

Sam ducked down into the front seat beside you, and you started the Impala.

“Look, Dean, um... I just want to say that I'm, uh— Um…” Sam couldn’t seem to muster an “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Me too,” Dean nodded.

You snickered. “You guys are breaking my heart.”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” the boys groaned in unison. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[shaunamilfman]

Me when I see your domestic Shauna hcs and immediately decide I need a Nat version so this is my formal request for some

If you want to ofc no pressure I just love your writing

-📝

Domestic Nat Headcanons

pairing: Nat Scatorccio x Reader note: no crash au. nat in her 20's. idk why i answered this so quick tbh

in my mind, Nat's a bartender. maybe opens her own bar one day in the future so she can get away with giving a few free drinks to people that aren't assholes. she charges the assholes double, of course. 

sleeps till like 2 every day and has black-out curtains over every window in her apartment. if you like natural sunlight, your ass is going to have to go outside. 

if you're asleep by the time she gets home, your ass will be waking up. she never does it on purpose, she just has no idea how loud she really is. humming quietly in the shower after work and not even thinking about the fact that the wall would amplify it. you don't have the heart to tell her to stop. 

on the flip side, she never really gets that annoyed if you wake her up while she's asleep. just rolls her eyes as you get up, and pretends not to be pleased when you kiss her forehead. immediately rolls back over and falls right back asleep. it's almost impressive how quick she is. 

blasts music while she's getting ready, or doing just about anything that allows her too. you're always coming home to her gaming and blasting music on her days off. 

night owl even on her days off, always has been. it's a rare sight to see her up before noon, and it's only if you or one of her friends specifically asked her. leaving the house with her sunglasses on and almost hissing at the sun. 

Nat can't cook for shit except for a few staple foods that she'd eat every meal if you'd let her. she's not necessarily bad at it, she just doesn't really have the patience for it. 

her space constantly looks like a hurricane came through it, but she always miraculously knows where everything is. if you try to organize it for her, she'll be so lost. messes it back up the second your back is turned. 

You constantly catch her in the middle of the night making the weirdest snack combination known to man. If the sight of her eating it doesn't make you want to gag, then she's not doing it right. 

has a half feral cat with some mean ass name like ‘bastard’ or some shit that she leaves food out for. she saved his life when he got stuck and almost starved, and got permanent scars as a thank you. the cat comes and goes as he please, and neither of you are sure how he's getting in or out. 

she always pretends the scars were from something much cooler whenever somebody asks. it's a different story every time. you think she must have a list somewhere she adds to when she gets bored. they're starting to get really creative. 

you witness the cat getting into a nasty street fight with another cat and Nat's just like “hell yeah, go bastard!”

the first time you visited Nat's apartment, the only furniture she had in the living room was a beanbag chair and a TV setup propped up on a box. gallantly offers you the bean bag chair as she eats on the floor cross-legged next to you. 

she insists that she was always going to get more furniture and that it was just temporary, but you're not so sure. the first thing she buys is this beat to shit couch that's somehow the most comfortable thing you've ever sat on. she's so proud of it. 

if you didn't force her to get more, Nat would only own one fork, one spoon, one plate, etc. insists that she can just watch them.

likes going out with your or her friends, but isn't as much of a fan of hosting the events. makes it harder to just leave when she starts getting tired of them. always tried to make you be the bad guy whenever she wants to go. “sorry guys, she's tired.” meanwhile you're wide awake. 

Nat's really good at fixing things, mostly out of necessity. still, if something’s busted, there's a good chance Nat's already on her way to the hardware store to get parts before you've even noticed. she really enjoys the process of fixing shit and ends up getting really into cars because of it. if it wasn't for the hours, she'd consider being a mechanic. 

absolute coffee fiend. you rarely see her without a cup. only drinks it black and will turn her nose up at the sugary stuff. she's not pretentious about it though, it's just how she likes it. 

Nat randomly comes home with little gifts for you, tossing it at you without really acknowledging it. if you press her on it she'll say some shit like “saw it and thought of you.” 

she's not a big fan of surprises. she has a bit of a routine and whenever there's a major interruption to it she gets a little antsy. with the way Nat grew up ,she really appreciates knowing just about how her days going to go before she starts it. 

Nat really enjoys watching movies with you. it doesn't really matter what it is as long as she can just turn her brain off and watch. she likes physical contact, but isn't super big on cuddling per se. the type to lift your legs up into her lap when you're laying across the couch.

[evilminji]

You know The Force™? Yes, from Star Wars.

What if It and Ectoplasm, as a vague, all encompassing Primordial Force That IS... were Exs?

Now, now, I here your scepticism. But hear me out! I am going somewhere with this! Possibly somewhere amusing! Might be candy! Who knows! ANYWAY~☆

The Primordial Forces That ARE.™

Imagine um like infinite, multidimensional, multidirectional, endlessly stacking, 2-D pancakes! That are ALIVE. Gods beyond godhood. Inherently Amoral. Not IMMORAL... Amoral.

As in removed from morality.

Outside it.

Just as they are with most things. Time, change, entropy and order. They are the textbook definition of "I EXSIST" in the eldrich sense. It's like trying to understand the thought process of rocks. A black hole.

The best thing everyone can do is move on and accept that our fleshy little meat brains are incapatible with the information we are trying to take in. They DO like us though! For the given quality of "like" as they are capable of understanding it.

It's neat. They are neat!

Why bring um up, though? Well~ >.> remember that "stacked" thing? Not EVERY universe has all of them. In fact, MOST universe don't have more then one! Why would you need TWO Infinte Powers watching you? You're not that special!

And if you ARE, that's not a GOOD thing!

So like? Star Wars? Has The Force. As does every variation and fic offshoot universe. The spin off series. Unknown, undiscovered, "and everything was peaceful, safe, and fine" universe's where nothing story worthy happened.

Danny? Gets Ectoplasm.

The Zone.

Which? Is where Ectoplasm stores their blorbos. The FUNNY ones. The INTERESTING ones. The "I just think they're neat" ones. And FRANKLY? It HAS TO STOP! It's getting out of hand! A hobby is ONE thing, but THIS? The last one tried to invade OTHER UNIVERSE. And now you want to put ANOTHER little crown on your favorite OC?

Stop TORMENTING the little thing! This is BENEATH YOU! No more "edgy" halfa creatures!

Give me that!

Aaaaaand Danny is in Space? W...Why is Danny in space? Danny doesn't WANT to be in SPACE. Danny was about to finally have a burger and a NAP! Guys? Guys, this isn't funny! Where the FUCK is he?? Why are all the ghosts blue?

Why can random space monks body him? But like... only conditionally? The swords are Tingly but the hand wave throw thing? Yeets like the football? And, hell yeah aliens? But boooo, most of them are jerks?

Also >:/ not so thrilled about how people talking about Clones. Or treating them.

And your "Chancellor" fruitloop is very... Vlad. Vibes be RANCID.

He wants to go home but might Have To Cause Problems On Purpose first.

Meanwhile? Skywalker n his secret wife are somewhere VERY green and the white not-wookies are very concerned about her health. But don't worry! They caught the problem early. And prenatal care in important. Also so is mental health. Here, talk to this soft pile of fur with a soft understanding voice! That's elder Councilfang!

Why? Because Ectoplasm is petty. Fuck YOU, Force. If you're gonna take THEIR favorite bloro, then Ectoplasm is gonna take YOUR current favorite TOO! See how YOU like your bloro missing!

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes @legitimatesatanspawn

[kurishiri]

Excerpt (and some summary) of Jude’s main story chapter 1

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ any pretty translation you may see in here may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. this is a sort of summary as well. if you enjoy, though, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

ok so like the chapter starts off with jude and ellis beatin some dudes ahh bc breach of contract. ig thats sorta like the prologue so to speak.

since jude is an act 2 route, vogel is featured in here. darius is like “hmm jude jazza huh. p interesting. nica” and nica comes in like “yeah you want me to look into him? sure, im interested in him too (/p likely)”

its revealed that since her time as fairytale keeper, kate had accompanied basically everyone on a mission? except jude and ellis. ellis wants to accompany her tbf but judes like tf hell no.

needless to say, kate has…less than positive first impressions of jude.

but she finally sees some light when harry gives her a memo telling her to go to the pub at 22:00 bc there’s gonna be a mission with jude and ellis. but turns out by the time she gets there, the missions already done and rogers there at the pub lmao

kate goes to jude whos smokin in the back like “you lied to me :(“ and jude kinda doesnt get all that fazed abt it like “never told ya the mission would start at 22:00.” he reveals that basically he hates it when its all like the “lets all get along” sorta gist yk.

then they have like this back and forth thats smth like “no point in being liked bc i got no gain from that.” “does that mean youre ok with being hated?” “what, do ya wanna be liked by everyone?” you get the point. they just do not. see eye to eye. like at all.

and so, we come to this point where kate makes a promise with him like “i’ll find smth i like abt you by the time my tenure as fairytale keeper ends!” (this is around where the first cg is, which btw is called the first promise we made was wrapped in white smoke)

Jude: Hah, alright then. if ya goin’ that far then do what ya want.

After our back and forth, like walking on eggshells, i finally succeeded in getting him to say those words.

Kate: Okay! Then I’ll do just that.

I used my hand to wave off the smoke that seemed to separate us two and took a step toward him, when…

Jude, while veiled in the white smoke, laughed with scorn.

Jude: But there’s one thing ya should keep in mind, princess. …My promises don’t come cheap.

J: If ya break ‘em, I’ll make ya go through so much o’ hell you’ll be wishin’ for death.

Amid the refined scent of sandalwood, far removed from his image, and the sweet scent of tobacco that burned my chest,

Jude and I made our first promise.

other impt events? is that jude literally comes out with a contract after victors like “i heard youre gonna be judes exclusive fairytale keeper!” and kates like what. but kate signs the contract in the end.

another thing; kate thinks “theres no way i could ever like him” 📸

ko-fi☕️ ┊ comms🤍

[diejager]

I HAVE A (kinda) stepdad!König+DBF!Horangi

so it was a while ago but I reealllyyyy liked the one u did where reader’s sort of hooking up w/ soap and ghost on the side?? If u remember that

I was wondering if you could do a story where they’re sort of just hooking up occasionally (as often as reader can get away) but clearly both the boy like them and want to further it but she’s worried about König and Horangi finding out.

pretty much they notice her exhibiting really weird behaviors in and out of bed towards them?? She’ll freak out if they approach her a specific way (not knowing König and Horangi take advantage of her that way) or sort of doesn’t rly care about her own pleasure cuz she’s sacrificing it for theirs…just sort of stuff that makes Soap and Ghost go “uhhh 🧍🧍‍♂️that’s kinda weird innit” (they’re presenting traits of being groomed/manipulated/raped/etc)

anyways somehow Soap and Ghost find out ab what’s going on at home and….yeah they’re not happy 😬😬

Thank you for your consideration!!!

— 🌘 !

Cw: DARKFIC, STEPCEST, DUB-CON/NON-CON, implied smut, abuse, implied kidnapping, possessive behaviour, implied one night stand, implied crush, kinda poly, tell if I missed any.

They weren’t saints. If anything, they were the farthest thing possible from good-natured men, with kind hearts and sound morals. Ghost and Soap were sick men, soaked in bloodshed and tragedy, gunpowder and tears, they weren’t good men, they were simply men doing another’s dirty work to keep the world safer. They’d seen their fair share of filth on this earth, the most depraved and savage monsters that found pleasure in plundering and killing, covert crimes done under the nose of most civilians, and hushed exchanges for prizes. They, themselves, have committed unforgettable and unforgivable acts, torture, murders, arson, and so, so much regrettable things that would forever scar their victims.

But this- your situation was gut-wrenching, in a way that twisted their guts and made their throats tight, deathly silent in the brewing rage. From Simon, who had an abusive up-bringing and torturous life, morals and ethics twisted beyond normalcy and comprehension; to Johnny, who’s busybody life turned darker and darker with every life he’s taken, bodies piling over bodies, a permanent reminder that he wasn’t the same bright-eyed and goodwilling saint he was when he first enlisted. 

They were mad: Simon enraptured in wrath, burning hotter than hell’s fire, whose rage rivaled one of God; and Johnny bubbled with rage, running through his veins like rivers of magma, scorching everything on his path to ash and rock. They were enraged to see the way you were used and forced into a new purpose by older men —much, much older men that they knew. Whereas Simon seethed silently, Johnny screeched loudly, words stumbling in a crazed frenzy.

It just- it simply wasn’t a good-natured frenzy. Ghost and Soap were not good men. It stemmed from jealousy and emotional possession. The many dates that you’d suddenly canceled, calling in a rain check that they had listened, were because you’d been fucked numb, legs too weak to walk or support you, tied to your bed or filled with another man’s cum. How rarely they met you outside of simple bar nights with your girlfriends before you’d hookup with them for the night until you had to leave. Or your reoccurring bruises, hidden under the clear lie of being clumsy, a white lie, truly, but a lie nonetheless and they hated liars. 

And the worse thing, the one that hits the most, was that you were being fucked, and abused, and taken advantage of by men they constantly butted heads with. Once enemies, always enemies. They didn’t forgive or forget in their business, and their rivalry would continue until one or the other had died. Ghost would plan, scheme your taking and Soap would take care of you, a man much softer than his rough hide. Soap would gently introduce you into your new life, and if it does work, then Ghost would have to step in, eyes dark and heart frozen over. 

You’d eventually like living with them. At least you liked them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 8

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

5.7k Words

a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!

Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.

Anyway, we continue.

Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 

It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 

But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 

“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”

Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 

“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 

“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 

“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 

“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”

“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 

“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”

“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 

“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 

“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 

What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 

”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”

There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 

”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 

Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?

“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?

“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 

“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 

When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 

That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 

“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 

“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“And Chris Morrison.”

“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 

“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”

“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”

When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 

He really needed a cigarette right about now. 

“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 

“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...

Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 

You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 

“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 

Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 

When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 

“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 

“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 

“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 

Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 

This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-

Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.

The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 

“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.

“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 

“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 

“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”

“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 

“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 

“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 

“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 

You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 

“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 

“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 

“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 

“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 

“Friend’s house.” 

“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 

“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 

“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 

Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 

Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 

What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 

But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.

Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?

Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 

“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 

“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”

“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”

He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 

“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”

Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 

“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”

With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 

“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 

“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 

“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”

“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 

“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”

Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 

“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 

“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.��

Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 

“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”

“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”

“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 

“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”

“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”

“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”

If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 

“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”

You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 

Then you started laughing. A lot. 

“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”

Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 

“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 

“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”

“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 

“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”

“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”

Five times, but who’s counting? 

“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 

“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”

“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 

Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 

“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”

“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 

Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”

“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.

“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 

“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 

“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”

Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 

“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 

Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 

Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.

So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?

“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 

“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 

“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 

“And green.”

“And green.” 

“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”

Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 

“What’s real to you?” 

“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”

Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 

The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 

“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”

“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 

“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 

“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”

“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”

“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 

“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 

“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 

Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?

“What topic was it?” 

“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”

“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Extremely.” 

You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”

It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 

“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 

“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”

“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 

“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  

Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 

“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 

Next Chapter

Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo

[lemonstars8583]

hello 😈😈 uhh ppl are gonna see this and be like “huh” but i don’t ❤️ care very much at all ❤️

so remember that CTW AU is posted abt well here’s where bonbon is 😭 !! hooraaay!!

there’s that weird minigame in into the pit (the game) that has bonbon so i was like okay in this AU millie isn’t even dead so like. that minigame wouldn’t exist but what if… bonbon… in real life instead..

so Oswald finds bonbon deactivated in the weird ballpit world (and yes i have an explanation for this i’ll leave it under the cut as well as some extra info), accidentally wakes him up, and bonbon does not fucking like him but he’s like “okay you’ve been here before and left?? let’s make a deal i’ll help you survive and you get me the fuck out of here”. so it’s like a reluctant alliance turned eventual friendship.

TLDR: Freddy gets in a fight with baby, badly injured, thrown out, taken in by Jeff’s Pizza when it was a bit more popular, kids climb on him daily and eventually break his arm off, bonbon falls into ballpit and freddy can’t find him. he gets thrown out again because kids have trashed him. a few years pass while he’s stuck in the junkyard and bonbon is unconscious in the ballpit world in the past. Oswald finds him and they

If that sounded interesting here’s the full ramble ⬇️⬇️

Considering one of bonbon’s functional purposes on funtime freddy being a lookout (bonbon is described as “parental tracking/360 pivot” on freddy’s blueprints.) I think he’d use that to help Oswald and act as a lookout, keeping track of where threats are and informing him when one’s coming closer and from what direction. he would try to trick him sometimes out of pure mischief though.

also i think bonbon himself probably wouldn’t have that “kill kids when they’re alone” programming just because he’s so small so he wouldn’t get the job done quickly, he would probably only tell freddy “hey nobody’s around, get that kid” so with freddy not even there he isn’t much of a threat to Oswald unless he chooses to be.

AAANYWAY how bonbon got in the ballpit ❤️ keep in mind a lot of this is entirely from my brain. at this point we’re getting into “entirely canon divergent” levels of AU so be warned

i thought it would be funny if freddy and cb got into a fight and cb just beat the shit out of him. based on 2 things: 1. the fight when they kicked baby out of the ennard hivemind and 2. a roblox rp i was in 😭😭 LOLL it wasn’t a serious rp (at least not on my end, i think the person playing CB was being for real) but it was so funny i loved it

SO anyway i figured the only reason they were able to beat baby was because it was all the funtimes working together and because they were kind of all equally distributed in ennard. i think if it was just funtime freddy trying to fight circus baby he would 100% lose she’s like a foot taller than him

so freddy gets his shit rocked, and management is like “we’re done with this guy he sucks” and throws him out. Jeff’s Pizza picks him up like “hell yeah weird mascot thing” and puts him in the ballpit room to stand there and let kids climb on him. eventually because he’s still pretty broken his arm breaks off from the weight of a bunch of kids hanging on it and it falls into the ballpit. later on he goes looking for his arm and bonbon and can’t find either of them.

the pizza place ends up throwing him out because the kids are just trashing him and he ends up in the junkyard where millie’s grandpa finds him years later. I’d imagine in that time he would become an urban legend of sorts, wandering around looking for things nobody can find, and taking the life of the occasional kid who’s out past their bedtime. He’d become more jaded and cynical instead of his former silly self during this time too.

HI GUYS FUTURE LEMON HERE i had this in drafts and now im looking at it again. there’s a detail i forgot! while time passes in the ballpit world, no time passes in the real world 😃 fuck! SOO that kinda fucks this story up but ALSO. this is an AU. i can do what i want. and i don’t think the story will be too horribly affected if i just disregard that? so that’s what im doing 👍