#I'm so worried for my guy friends and my father

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN AU (CHAPTER 1)

Word count: 2k

It is a snowy Saturday in New York which is perfect for a coffee hangout with friends drinking overpriced hot chocolate or reading a clichè romance book by the fireplace at home but do you know where I am? I am situated in a hospital room, worrying my ass off for my dear uncle Paul.

"Uncle, I hope you get better soon" I was holding his hand. If something happens to him, I would completely lose it. He is the closest family I have after my mother.

He apparently got into an accident earlier and for everybody's surprise, that accident didn't happen in WWE - the place that can literally end you in the hospital especially for a talker like my uncle. But no, it wasn't there. He may have broken his leg in his very own house while he was trying to fix his lightbulb.

Yeah, I know this sounds very dumb but sometimes the dumbest things lead us to accidents.

"Don't worry, Sophia. I'm going to be fine." he assured me with a little nod.

"So Mr. Heyman" the doctor entered in the room. A medium tall man with very short grey-white hair and beard. He was holding an X-ray.

"You see this?" he showed it to me and uncle. I see an X-ray. My mom would be more familiar with this. "I don't know how you fell down but this a serious injury. You will need a lot of rest and time for recovery."

"Yeah, okay. I understand" uncle gave one of his light smiles.

"That means no work" the doctor specified.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson" oh no. Here he goes. The ultimate talker himself, Paul Heyman. "I am the special council for your Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns and he has to prepare for a very important match for the Royal Rumble which is a fatal 4-way match by the way which in case you don't know, it means he has to fight three men at the same time, so he can defend his Undisputed WWE championship and then he has to prepare for Wrestlemania 40." I'm sure the doctor understood close to nothing from what was said. I know uncle gets crazy during Wrestlemania season and now he will get even crazier that he won't be able to work.

"Uncle" I sighed and rolled my eyes. He loves his job. He has always loved his job but he is way too dedicated and that's why he got so far, of course. He is amazing at what he does. I watch his stuff from time to time. I know all of his guys and I know that Roman Reigns is a big deal.

The doctor had the typical look of confusion, probably thinking my uncle is crazy which he is. He is a crazy man indeed but I still love him. He has helped me a lot throughout the years.

Especially after my father died from overdose almost 9 years ago. I was just 18 years old when this happened and uncle still hasn't forgiven his own brother for doing this to me, his only daughter, and my mother who is a very successful surgeon, by the way.

Uncle was the only one who supported me when I said I wanted to major in journalism in Julliard because I think I got that orator skills from him. My mother, of course, wasn't supportive since she wanted me to become a doctor. I mean are we surprised?

But I knew I ain't made for the hospital rooms. I am made for talking. I was born with a big mouth and have talked smack since forever.

After I finished my master's degree program in Mass Communication in Julliard I started an internship in Brooklyn Magazine where I write articles. The editor in chief likes them and she said she sees a high potential in me.

"If you want to recover sooner, Mr. Heyman, you have to stay at home and take a rest. Your wife can take care of you-

"I'm divorced" uncle interrupted him.

"I will take care of you, uncle. No problem." I said immediately.

"No." he just shook his head. Who is gonna take care of him then? My cousins are in college and I'm working a full time job.

"Look, I can ask my boss for less hours work" I tried to persuade him.

"No" he shook this head, saying with the exact same tone as earlier. I see the spark in his eyes. The same spark when he comes up with something.

"I can always hire a lady to take care of me but you, my dear niece, will take my spot temporarily in WWE as a special council for the Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns".

I furrowed my eyebrows so hard that I bet, an enormous wrinkle appeared on my forehead.

"What? Why?"

"This is going to be perfect for your resumè, Sophia. Trust me. Think about this." he seemed absolutely certain.

"Uncle, I want to be a JOURNALIST. To sit around in the studio for the morning shows, wearing my cute little costumes that I'm going to buy with my own money and interviewing politicians, celebrities and all the crazy, pretentious people that come to your mind. I don't wanna be stuck in a wrestling federation interviewing some big ass sweaty men and asking them things like 'So what are you gonna do to your opponent tonight?'. No. That's not my dream. See, the boss told me she sees a big potential in me because of my skills and face card. How am I supposed to leave?"

I just dropped my dramatic monologue about my dreams. And I didn't lie. This is how I've been imagining myself my whole life.

Uncle didn't seemed deeply fazed by this monologue. Indeed, he softened a bit but he still had the look in his eyes, the exact look that he knows he has something against me.

"Okay. Alright, Sophia. Whatever you say. I get your point. I'm not going to force you but didn't you say you want to take care of me?" I see where the things are going right now.

"Yes but that's-" he didn't even let me finish my point because he knows another monologue is coming. We rarely argue but boy, when we do, things get crazy.

"Taking my place temporarily in WWE is the best way you can help me and yourself as well. It's a win-win situation." he flashed one of his cute little innocent smiles but he knows very well he ended me with using my phrase and the "help" part.

I just pressed my lips, closed my eyes in defeat and took a deep sigh.

"Also don't make me mention the fact that you are always going to travel around the country and even the world and if you get your dream job in CNN or GMA or like you called them "morning shows", you aren't gonna travel much, for the record. You are going to be stuck in the same thing over and over again but in WWE you have the variety of experiences and you are going to see for yourself. Also WWE is the best place you can get recognition which will lead to big opportunities beyond your imagination."

And with this statement uncle just solidified himself even more as the righteous one. The part about opportunities may be no lie.

"Plus, in WWE you can wear your "cute little suits" as you referred. Allow me to send you some money and buy yourself something" he took out his phone and transferred me some money.

"Okay, uncle. I got your point already. Alright. I'm going to be your replacement...temporary." I specified.

"Temporary, of course. I would never let you take my job, Sophia. As much as I love you, you know the grip it has on me."

"I am fully aware" I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"You will see how easy it is to work with Roman Reigns." Uncle seemed weirdly excited.

"That Aquaman ass guy? He ain't giving me those vibes but whatever you say, I guess. You know him better than me." I shrugged. Uncle always talks in superlatives when it comes to Roman Reigns. He ain't even talking about me and my cousins like that, so we get lowkey jealous.

"I want you to behave in front of him, okay? And Jey and Jimmy too. Save the smack talk for the rest of the roster." he knows how dangerous I can get when I start talking.

"Got it, uncle" I rolled my eyes for the millionth time today. We will see how these guys are going to treat me and I will decide how to behave. But from what uncle has told me they seem like great men but at the end of the day, I'm going to be the judge of that.

"Alright. Now I'm gonna make a few calls. I am going to call Roman, Hunter and even your boss if you want to. Then I'm going to tell you all about work.

"I'm gonna tell my boss, don't worry about that." I assured him.

...

"So tomorrow you have a meeting with Triple H aka Paul Levesque aka your temporary boss and after that Roman will show you around the building and everything. He may even add some stories for the business from his point of view. Agh." uncle sighed and had a big grin on his face. "He is an amazing man, Sophia. The biggest single star in the whole sports entertainment. If someday you bring me a nephew in law, I wish him to be as Roman - successful, strong, loyal and dedicated."

"Chill, uncle. You ain't at work right now." I couldn't help but laugh at him.

Honestly right now, I don't want any man. Two months ago I ended my relationship with Robert Mayer. We graduated at the same university but he was from the Law Department. Does a laywer and journalist sound like a great match?

That's what I thought.

"Dad, how are you?" my cousins flashed in the room. They are a few years younger than me and they are so cute, honestly. We exchanged a hug.

"I am gonna be okay, kids" uncle couldn't help but smile at them. "As long as I have you three, I am always going to be okay."

"We told mom about this". Jason said.

"Why? What have I told you? You don't tell your mother anything about me". He scolded my cousins. Uncle can't really stand aunt.

"Don't worry, she is not coming". Amanda assured him. She looks exactly like aunt when she was young, though. Blonde hair and brown eyes. She looks nothing like uncle but his son does. He just has hair...still.

I got the blue eyes from my father and uncle and the blonde hair from mom since she is also a natural blondie but a very skilled surgeon.

Somebody entered in the room as well. That must be aunt. I haven't seen her in ages but I couldn't mistake her.

"What did you do, Paul?" she scolded him. They still have that "married couple attitude" although they have been divorced for so long and as much uncle claims that he cannot stand her, I know it's not completely true. She is the mother of his kids after all.

"Oh Lord, please save me" uncle started baptising and looking up at the ceiling.

"Chill your dramatic ass down and let me see what have you done" she went to him and smiled at me mouthing "Hi", I did as well.

I waved at my cousins and uncle goodbye because I intend to leave them alone.

"No, Sophia. Don't leave me" he begged.

"I have to prepare for tomorrow, remember? It's a big day" I replied while walking to the door. "I'm going to contact you tomorrow and make sure to keep me updated of your condition" these were my last words before I exited the room and dialed my boss' number.

[eggsnatcheskneecaps]

I'M GOING TO CLAW MY FACE OFF

[britneyshakespeare]

My new friend’s childhood best friend is in prison. It’s bullshit, right, but it is what it is and it’s very hard on everyone who loves this guy. My friend, the guy’s girlfriend, the guy’s family. The guy himself obviously but that goes wo saying. The prison-industrial complex in the United States is fucked up. It especially hits you when you have such a close connection w someone who’s on the inside of it.

I recently did a portrait of this guy. I spent about a month working on it. For his girlfriend’s birthday. But I’m making copies of it for his family because I want everyone who loves him to know... you know. People care. They’re not alone. No one is. I’m not planning on posting the portrait on here for privacy reasons. This guy’s family has been through some serious harassment and if my portrait were identified, which is very possible, that could become very very dangerous.

My friend has shown all of his family and friends my portrait, though. Everyone but his girlfriend who we still haven’t been able to meet up w since her birthday, lol. And the guy’s stepfather owns a restaurant that I’ve been to three times. It’s really good. The mixed drinks there are no fucking joke though. I’ve been there three times, but I’ve walked out sober zero times. You know you know.

The first time I went, my friend introduced me to the guy’s stepfather. It was really late at night though and it was only for a second; I hardly remembered what the guy looked like. And he was just like “Hey this is my friend” and I shook his hand and all that. And I was pretty obviously drunk. This was last month, before I finished the portrait. I don’t remember if at that time he knew the portrait was being made; I know my friend showed several of his family members pictures of it even when it was just in progress. But he did not say “This is my friend who’s doing the drawing” when I met him the first time.

This time I met the guy’s stepfather again. I was DRUNK drunk. And my friend called him over to the table and said “This is my friend who drew your son” and I did look him directly in the eyes (I remember what his face looked like this time) and he was just very kind to me. I wish I could remember better what he said, but he was like, “It’s very beautiful, and you’re very talented. The features look so much like him.” And I was just like. “Thank you. It was really really really really really really hard.” Or something like that. Nodding over and over again. Lol.

One day I will meet the family of my latest portrait’s subject, sober. One day they’ll meet the artist who did a charcoal drawing of their son when she’s not fucked up on tequila in their eatery.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Teacher: Class, we have a new student joining us today. Danny, could you tell us a little about yourself? Danny, standing up: Ugh, okay. My name is Danny Fenton. I'm from Amity Park, Illinois. I moved to Gotham with my siblings. Teacher: That's lovely, Danny. Do you have any hobbies? Danny: I like to stargaze, but it's tricky here in Gotham to see them. Teacher waiting for more: *Stare* Classroom: *stare* Danny panics as the class stares at him. I also really liked helping Dan with his experiments. Teacher: Who's Dan? Danny: He's my eldest brother. He got a job at Wayne Labs three months ago, so we moved. Classmate: What kind of experiments do you guys do? Danny: Dan's a chemist. He likes to create antidotes to various poisons or toxic substances. Last month, he made the new Anti-Fear Gass Antidote! Classmate: *scoff* Yeah, right, and I'm the tooth fairy Classroom: *laughs* Teacher: Alright, everyone, settle down. Danny, welcome to Gotham, but you should be careful with your fibs. They can be dangerous in this city. Danny: I'm not lying. Teacher: Of course not. Everyone turn to pages three and twelve in your math textbooks- Danny, please sit down. Danny: *sits* It wasn't a lie Damian: I believe you. Danny: Really? Damian: Yes, my Father signs Dan Fenton's paychecks. Danny: Oh, does he work at Wayne Labs, too? Damian: .....In a way. Would you happen to know who I am? Danny: Damian Al Ghul. I heard you tell the teacher you prefer that name. Damian: .....Yes. Your pronunciation of my last is perfect. Most people claim it's too hard. Danny shrugs: If I can learn to pronounce Obi-Wan Kenobi, I can learn how to say your last name. Most people are just rude. Damian, under his breath: Is this the rush Mother felt when she found her Beloved? Danny: What? I'm sorry I didn't catch that Damian: Do not worry about it. Merely know that you belong to me now Danny: Like a friend? Damian:.....In a way. Danny: Cool :D

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.

Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.

It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.

And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.

However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.

~~~~~

Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?

Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.

Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.

Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?

Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.

Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?

Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...

Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.

Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.

Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.

In the background:

Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*

~~~~~

Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?

Danny: Yes, call me Danny.

Flash: Cool, cool...

Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.

Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?

Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...

Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.

Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.

Flash: Punished for what? How?

Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.

Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.

~~~~

Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!

~~~~

Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.

Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~

Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.

Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...

~~~~

Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.

Billy: ....

Danny:

Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!

A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.

Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!

~~~~

Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.

Danny: Yeap, that's me.

Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?

Danny: And where's the fun in that?

[vampiricvenus]

You guys can't comprehend just how infinitely thankful I am with how much you've helped my friend Nader and his family get closer and closer to their goal.

When I first started chatting with him, his campaign, which has a total goal of €50,000, was at a bit above €5,000 at the time, about a month ago.

Thanks primarily to this sweet 17 years old boy's daily efforts and the help he's received from some Tumblr users, we've managed to get his fundraiser to 91% of its total goal!!!!

We're so so close!!! This family deserves a chance at a peaceful, dignified life!

His campaign is verified. It's the 4th campaign in this spreadsheet.

If we reach this €50,000 goal, we'd be saving not just Nad, but several young children, his father Ahmed who's a cancer patient, and many others. Reminder too that an uncle of his was martyred very recently. Anything can happen at any moment, and he gets very disheartened whenever donations decrease. We need to get them all out of Gaza as soon as possible.

His little niece is suffering from malnutrition, and every day when Nad and I resume chatting again he tells me how exhausted he is. I'm very worried for him and his family, as there's people dying of starvation all around him and him and his family aren't doing well. His family has already been displaced NINE times!!

Let's give Nad a chance to follow his dreams of going to university. Let's give his very small siblings a chance to know of a life free of bombings and shootings. Let's give his father the opportunity to deal with his cancer with dignity and an actual fighting chance.

€45,572/€50,000

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Family Friend

Prompt: Jack Hotchner is arrested for underage drinking and the first person he calls to bail him out, is you.

It was almost 2 in the morning when you received the call.

"Y/N?" You heard the familiar voice of Jack Hotchnner's voice speak. He sounded small and almost scared.

"Jack?" You sat up in bed, immediately awake. "Are you alright?"

"I did something stupid Y/N. My dad's gonna kill me."

His words were slightly slurred and slow, imitating that of someone who had been drinking a lot. A million scenarios went through your head as you sprang out from under the covers, rushing to put on a change of clothes, holding your cell between your shoulder and ear.

"What happened Jack? Where are you?"

"I'm in jail. They said I could call someone so I called you. I know my dad is out of the state on a case, please don't tell him," he pleaded.

"Honey, I have to, he's your father. But we can talk about it when I get there. What jail exactly are you at?"

Once you were decent, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door.

"Fairfax I think- Oh God, Y/N, I'm so stupid, I don't even know why I was there. I-

"Jack, sweetheart. Don't say anymore, I'm headed to you now alright? Just sit tight."

He sniffled and let out an intoxicated hiccup. "Ok."

Hanging up, you dialed Aaron's number and put it on speaker as you got into your SUV, driving in the direction of the jail. The call picked up on the third ring and Aaron's sleepy voice mirrored your concerned tone from earlier.

"Y/N? Everything alright?"

"Jack just called me. I guess he's been arrested in Alexandria. He's fine, he's safe, but he did sound like he had been drinking. I'm on my way to pick him up now."

"What? Did he tell you what happened?" You imagined that he was doing the same as you, getting out of bed and dressing to catch the soonest plane out.

"No, I didn't want him to tell me over the phone. I can call you back once I get there and talk with him, I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Thank you. I'm on my way as well." His voice was low and slightly gruff, telling you that he was pissed but trying to conceal it. You'd memorized all of his subtle tone and posture changes over the years of knowing him, having spent the better part of those years as one of his underlings before transferring units.

"Don't worry about it tonight Aaron, I've got it. You've got a case to solve."

Luckily, all of the lights were working in your favor as you had yet to hit a red, bringing you closer to Jack sooner.

"The team will be fine without me. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning."

You knew there was no stopping him. He was as stubborn as a mule and you honestly couldn't blame him when it came to the fact that his son was just arrested for God knows what.

"And Y/N. Thank you. For being there."

You were glad he wasn't there to see the slight blush creeping into your face at his words as your voice spoke calmly, a strong opposite of what you were feeling.

"Of course Aaron. I'll always be there for you guys."

Your words lingered in the back of your mind after the both of you hung up, silently mocking your lovesick emotions. For years, the both of you had always kept your friendship that of which it was. A friendship, nothing more. As much as you may have wanted it to be something a little more...intimate. There were times you thought Aaron may have felt the same, by the way he looked at you just a second longer than necessary or how protective he'd get whenever he found out you were going out on a date. But he never voiced such sentiments to you, if he had any at all, causing you to bury your own.

It seemed to be the night that everyone was being arrested as you walked into the police station and towards the booking desk.

"I'm here for Jack Hotchner, he was brought in sometime tonight," you stated to the officer. She gave you a once over before typing into the computer, presumingly looking him up.

"Oh yeah. Looks like he was picked up from a neighborhood party for underage drinking. He's in the drunk tank. Hasn't stopped crying and telling everyone that his father is a FBI agent. That true?"

You sighed at the dramatics she described and sighed before answering. "Yes he is, and I'm Special Agent L/N, a family friend." You flashed your credentials, satisfying her interest and continuing on with the process of bail. 500 dollars later and a short phone call to Aaron to update him on everything, they delivered the still very drunk Jack Hotchner to you.

He practically ran into your arms, crying. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

If you weren't such a sucker for the kid, you would've been giving him a very stern lecture on his reckless behavior. But you were a sucker and all you could do was hug him back tight and speak gently. "You're alright, I'm just glad you're safe. C'mon, let's get you home."

You thanked the cops and left the building, Jack following close behind obediently. Once the two of you were in the car and on your way back, you decided to have a few words.

"This can't happen again, Jack. You know that, right?"

He seemed to be fading in and out of sleep but was coherent enough to give you a nod of acknowledment.

"Just because you're not in jail anymore, doesn't mean there won't still be a punishment. You broke the law and your dad is not happy about that."

Suddenly at the mention of his father, his eyes sprung open in alarm.

"You told him?"

"Of course I told him Jack. He was planning on flying back the minute I told him the news but I managed to get him to at least wait until tomorrow so you can sleep off the alcohol and he can have some time to calm down. You're welcome."

He threw his head back, cringing his face, making you believe that he was gonna start crying again. "He's gonna kill me."

"Well I highly doubt that sweetheart but I'll be there just in case, to make sure the both of you stay calm, alright?"

He groaned in acceptance and you shook your head smiling at his childlike behavior.

- - - -

Using the spare key Aaron gifted to you a few months back, you helped Jack into his house and led him into his room. Flopping onto his bed and passing out almost immediately, you sighed before straightening him out and taking off his shoes, then covering him up with a blanket and turning out his light.

You knew he was fine to be in the house by himself, but still you stayed, taking minimal space on the massive sectional couch and covering yourself with a throw blanket, noticing how it smelt faintly of Aaron. It didn't take long for the sleep to find you.

- - - -

You woke up with a jolt as the sound of the front door closing echoed in the quiet house, sitting up and catching Aaron's eye. He seemed surprised to see you as he walked over to the dining room table and set his keys and briefcase down.

"Sorry I woke you. I didn't know you spent the night," he spoke softly, loosening his tie.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave him here alone in the state he was in. He must've had a lot to drink."

A sigh escaped his lips while running a hand over his face, his expression looking tired and overworked. You could only imagine the stress he went through being a single father and Unit Chief as well as the toll it took on his mind and body. Getting up, you folded the throw blanket neatly and walked over into the kitchen, deciding to make the both of you a pot of coffee.

"I don't know why he's so out of control lately. Last week the school told me he's been skipping classes and receiving detention on a daily basis."

You figured Jack was still sound asleep considering that it was only 7 in the morning so there was no chance he'd hear the two of you talking.

"He's not out of control Aaron. He's just being a teenager. A teenager that lost his mother and barely sees his father, he's bound to act out a little."

You prepared the coffee, knowing exactly where everything was, having done these motions numerous times before. Some of your best memories with Aaron were ones where the two of you shared a pot in the late night and talked about anything and everything, just enjoying each others presence. You pushed away the momentary thought and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.

"I just wish I knew what to do," he sighed. "He's getting more and more distant from me and I feel helpless about it."

You turned to face him, settling you hand on his arm, grabbing his attention. "Just be there for him. And tell him that. He'll come around eventually. He just needs to work through the emotions he's feeling."

He didn't answer but continued holding your gaze, a flicker of something behind his eyes that made you subconsciously hold your breath. "Thank you Y/N. For staying." His voice was soft- tentative almost. You watched his eyes glance down at your lips momentarily, the air now thick with tension. You stood there frozen as he took a small step forward, bringing his body closer to yours and his head tilting down to compensate the height difference.

"Aaron.." you whispered, his name almost spoken as a warning, worried that if he crossed whatever boundary there had been, he'd regret it and that would be the end of your friendship.

"Am I reading this wrong?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. He didn't lean in any further though. Didn't make a move to kiss you but his close presence was plenty. You could smell the cologne he would wear every once in a while, making your head dizzy.

"I just don't want you to regret this later on," you admitted to him, fearing he's end up agreeing with you. Instead, to your surprise, he reached a hand out to hold your cheek in his hand, making your eyes flutter shut briefly.

"The only regret I have is not doing this sooner." He leaned in, capturing your lips in his which you were more than happy to reciprocate. The kiss was everything you had dreamt it be. He was gentle, loving almost, in the way his arm came around your waist and slowly pulled you in. There was no rush, it was just you and him in the quiet house, everything else forgotten about, including the teenager who had unknowingly left his room to walk right into the living room, seeing everything.

"It's about time," he interrupted, making you practically jump away from Aaron.

"Jack." Your response was breathless, Aaron succeeding in taking it away seconds before. "I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."

You turned to step away from Aaron, which he allowed, but still kept his hand resting on your waist, a small knowing smirk on his face.

"Just because you were right about this, doesn't mean you're off the hook," Aaron said, making Jack roll his eyes lightheartedly. You spun to Aaron with a look of shock.

"Have you two been conspiring about me?" You were surprised of course, but also flattered that Jack felt so comfortable with you to talk with his father about his romantic feelings towards you.

Aaron shrugged his shoulders in admission. "Maybe just a little bit," he said, the tiniest of a blush creeping up his neck. "I just wasn't expecting for it to happen this morning, especially after all the chaos."

"Which I'm totally sorry for, Y/N. Thanks for coming to get me," Jack added. You walked over and brought the boy in for a tight hug that he pretended to not enjoy but eventually gave up and hugged you back. "I'm just glad you're safe and hopefully learned a valuable lesson," you spoke, pulling him back and giving him a once over. "Also, how are you up at 7 in the morning? If I had as much to drink as you looked like you did, I'd be dead till at least noon."

He chuckled and ran a nervous hand through his hair, something you noticed Aaron also did on occasion. "This wasn't my first time, Y/N. I've been drunker."

You gasped and looked over at Aaron who could only shake his head in disapproval but ultimately already knowing about it.

You turned back to Jack. "Well this time, it won't be just your father in charge of punishment. I'm gonna have some say in it as well. I know Spencer has an upcoming lecture on the Theory of Relativity this week. I think it'd be very informational for you."

The horrid expression on his face was exactly what you were looking for. "What?! No! Please, not uncle Spence's lectures. I'll do community service, babysitting, anything but that," he pleaded to his father, who threw his hands up in surrender but didn't lose the amused smile.

"I think it's a great idea. Consider that the beginning of the punishment as well. Now go get showered and dressed, you're gonna come with me to run some errands."

Groaning in disapproval, he did as he said and walked off down the hall to his room. You felt the warmth of Aaron come up behind you and pull you in, resting his head on your shoulder, arms around your stomach. "Good idea on the punishment," he praised, kissing your cheek.

You chuckled while moving to face him, a look of jest in your eyes. "Oh, you're not in the clear either, mister. I think I deserve a proper date after the secret scheming you and Jack have been up to."

The gaze of tenderness and affection glimmered in his eyes gave you butterflies and the ultimate need to pull him in for another kiss. You honestly felt like you could kiss the man forever.

When you both pulled away, he spoke. "How about tonight? I'll pick you up from your place around 6? You could wear that dress you've been talking about wanting to wear."

A big smile appeared on your face at his words, excited for the evening. You stayed just a little longer, sharing a cup of coffee with Aaron, giving some drunk advice to Jack before you all parted your separate ways. Knowing you'd see the both of them so soon, filled your heart with joy and the smiled never faded the whole drive home.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - Pt II

Pairing - Teacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers, single motherhood, kindergarten teacher AU, school field trip, awkward bashful stevie, ONE use of y/n bc the story called for it sorry i don’t make the rules, mention of parent death

AN - here’s part two! I’m so thankful for the love and support you all showed on the first part and continue to show on all my works. It means so much that you guys enjoy my silly little delusions that i happened to turn into silly little stories!

Much love ~ emma

“Well, she’s excelling in English and reading, but struggling a bit with our math unit,” your daughter’s new kindergarten teacher informs you across a maplewood desk clad with plenty of miscellaneous trinkets; Abbey sits on a plastic chair next to you. Normally, it’s not recommended to bring your child to a parent/teacher conference, but with the cost of hiring a sitter lately, this was your only feasible option.

“That being said,” he continues optimistically, “I have plenty of practice worksheets I can send home with you, and if she’s still not getting it in a few weeks, I'm more than willing to stay after hours to work with her.”

You cringe at the idea of him working overtime for you or Abbey, even if it’s literally his job.

“That’s very generous, Mr. H, but–”

He cuts you off, speaking your name in a reassuring tone, “I promise, I’m happy to. It’s not as if I have anywhere else to be,” he chuckles, gesturing to the empty room where you sit.

He senses your hesitation but continues anyway, “Look, I’ll give you the worksheets, and check back in next week. Deal?” he’s clearly asking you, but Abbey beats you to the punch, “Can I use my crayons?”

“Obviously,” he phrases it as though he would expect nothing less.

Abbey gives a barely noticeable little pump of her fist. She’s wriggling around in her seat and you can tell she’s getting antsy with all the ‘grownup talk’. Steve rises first and sticks his hand out for you to shake and when you return the gesture, he takes your palm in both of his.

“Hey, Abbey’s doing great, seriously. You have nothing to worry about,” maybe you look anxious at the prospect of your child struggling in a subject because you somehow weren’t attentive enough, or maybe he can just read you like a book. Either way, his hands on you are dizzying.

“I appreciate that,” you offer him a tender smile as he releases you from his grasp. “What do you say, Abbey? Wanna head home?”

She immediately deflates at the question. School has been in session for barely two months, and all she can seem to talk about is her new teacher. The car rides home and dinners at the table are spent telling tales of his Star Wars impressions, or how he hangs up every picture he’s given on the corkboard behind his desk– how he lets the class have extra recess time if they behave all day long, and how he ‘never ever’ raises his voice.

You can always picture it so easily. There’s something naturally whimsical about him, and anyone can tell he was made for this career. There’s a distant fear that the infatuation Abbey seems to have with him is caused by the absence of her own father, and you wish constantly to be able to give her that– to be two parents for the price of one– but as much as she adores you, there’s always going to be a void in her life that you alone can’t fill. It makes you ache to dwell on it for too long.

“Can’t we stay just a little bit longer?” She pleads with glistening eyes.

“I’m sure Mr. H wants to get home too, Ab,” at that, her features twist into a pout.

Steve kneels in front of her, “I’m gonna see you on Monday though, right?” She tearfully nods, “Good,” he grins and gives her hair a little ruffle when he stands.

“You two have a good weekend, and drive home safe, okay?”

You send him a shy wave, “You too, Mr. H,”

As you’re making your way down the hallway towards the exit with Abbey's hand clasped tightly in yours, you hear a voice along with heavy footfall echo after you, “Wait!--”

When you turn around, Steve’s lightly jogging towards you with a flyer in his hand, “I forgot to give you this,” he pants when he catches up. He hands you a colorful paper advertising a class field trip to Spiller Farm– an orchard a few miles outside of town.

He runs a hand through his hair, mussed from a stressful day doing exactly that, “We still need a few more chaperones, I wanted to ask if you’d be able to?”

Abbey’s demeanor becomes instantly lighter as she begins tugging on your arm, “Please, mommy?!” she begs, as if she’d even have to. “Definitely! Let me double check my schedule and make sure I’m not working,” you smile kindly, “I’ll let you know on Monday when I drop her off,”

For a split second, Steve considers just giving you his number before he thinks better of it. You barely know him, for Christ’s sake. I’d look like a complete creep, He thinks.

“Y-yeah– that’s fine,” he winces at his own awkwardness, “Trip’s on Wednesday,” again feeling like a blundering idiot, as the flyer he just handed you clearly states as much.

If you notice though, you don’t mention it. You simply say,

 “See you Monday,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Abbey seemed to be in better spirits by the time you made it home and popped a frozen pizza into the oven. You’ve always envied the rebound rate of her sour moods; maybe you should take a page out of her book.

She sits at the table playing with two perfectly groomed Barbie Dolls. Her other toys were a different story– baby doll’s with botched haircuts, stuffed animals with unidentifiable stains and the occasional hole, but her Barbies were always considered with the utmost care a five-year-old could offer.

“Mr. H says his favorite pizza is pepperoni,” she says from where she sits behind you, “is that what kind we’re having?”

“No, silly goose, you don’t like pepperoni,” you remind her, “you always say it’s too spicy,”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds indifferent; she trusts you to remember what she likes and dislikes on her behalf, sparing no room in her growing brain for such trivial facts.

“Can I have four slices?” She asks sweetly. You hum and pretend to give it some thought before bargaining, “How about I give you one slice first, and then if you’re still hungry, you can have more?”

She nods, taking the bait. You eventually make it to the table, plates in hand, and eat the greasy slices in a comfortable silence until Abbey asks,

“What kind of pizza did my daddy like?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked questions about Jeremy, and you know it won’t be the last, but your heart still sinks a little every time she does.

“Your dad liked hawaiian pizza, that was his favorite,”

“‘ha-way-en’?” she mispronounces, “what’s that?” her little features contort with confusion.

You correct her pronunciation and reply, “Well, technically It’s a state, but hawaiian pizza has ham and pineapple on it,”

Her confusion morphs to disgust and she giggles, “Ew!”

“I know,” her laughter is contagious, “I don’t like it either,” you wave your hand in front of your nose in a ‘P.U’ gesture.

Her father is no longer a topic of conversation after that. It was always like this– the questions generally mundane and inconsequential, not realizing that the images she’s conjuring are covered in cobwebs and dust; buried deep in the forgotten corners of your subconscious.

When you’re a kid, nothing holds that kind of weight. Petty things like broken toys or an early bedtime are the most of her worries and memories aren’t so burdening– yet another thing you envy of her youth.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next few days go by without a hitch– school, ballet class and homemade dinners every night– that is until Wednesday morning when you wake up and are immediately confronted with the sun cascading through your curtains, and your alarm that's been beeping for thirty minutes longer than it normally does.

Abbey is straddling your lap and vigorously shaking your shoulders, “Mom! Mom, we have to go!” The panic you feel outweighs the embarrassment of being woken up late by your own child, and you rush to slip on a pair of jeans and the first sweater you make out on top of your hamper.

A sideways glance at the clock tells you that you have exactly three minutes to get out the door– it appears that your go-to look lately is bags under your eyes and your hair scooped up into the nearest claw clip. The trend continues today, though you’re able to dab on a little concealer while Abbey puts her boots on in the mudroom.

You’re both shocked and amazed that she’s dressed– her outfit even mostly coordinating. Unfortunately, the remains of what was supposed to be a ham and cheese sandwich are littered all over the counter. Crackers for lunch today it is.

Grabbing her mostly empty backpack, you ask, “You got everything, Ab?”

“Yep!” She shouts, mostly because she was already outside and standing in the driveway, waiting for you to unlock the car for her.

When you get to the school, several golden buses are parked in a single file line and opening their doors for dozens of children to pour in.  A little mortified, you realize you’re the last parent here, and silently pray that there’ll still be a seat for you and Abbey on the bus.

You’re searching for Steve, albeit unconsciously. You aren’t acquainted with any of the other teachers, and he’s your life raft in this sea of chaos and PTA soccer moms. You don’t have to look for very long though, before your name is being shouted from a few feet away on the tarmac. Grasping Abbey’s wrist, you shoulder your way over to where he stands waiting.

“Hey–I’m so sorry, I somehow slept through my alarm this morning,” you blush and muss Abbey’s hair, “this little gremlin woke me up, actually,”

She shakes your hand off her head, “Hey!” she frowns.         

“You’re good, promise. I saved you a seat, and Abbey,” he redirects his attention, “Clarissa B. asked to sit with you, is that okay?”

She’s too excited to bother responding, instead dashing inside in an attempt to find her friend. You hear a muffled warning of ‘no running!’, eliciting a shared laugh between the two of you.

“After you,” Steve steps back to let you in first. You spot the only available seat which is dead in the front of the bus– and when you sit down, Steve sits down next to you.

“Well, uh,” he scratches his neck nervously when you scoot to make room for him, “I saved us a seat. Is what I meant.”

“It’s okay,” you give a reassuring breath of laughter, “I don’t mind,”

“Right,” he clears his throat and you feel the bus shift gears to make its way towards the

orchard.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You’ve never been this close to Steve before and right away the space is enveloped with whatever cologne he’s wearing and the spearmint scent of the gum he’s been absentmindedly chewing. He smells of cedar and something musky; cinnamon and spice. You notice now all of the freckles and moles that form constellations over his forearms and neck.

When the silence between you becomes a little too stiff– pleasantries about the weather having subsided nearly ten minutes ago– he asks, “Have you ever been to Spiller Farm?”

“Yeah I– I have,” you say, unsure why you’re suddenly nervous, “My parents used to take me every year when I was Abbey’s age to go apple picking. Have you?”

“Oh, no,” he’s fixated on his hands folded in his lap, shaking his head, “this’ll be my first time, I actually grew up in Indiana,”

“Indianapolis?” You question curiously.

He gave a humorless laugh, “I wish. It was a uh…much smaller town,” he finally looks at you then, faces much closer than you realized in the cramped bus seat, “I came to Maine for college, liked it so much I guess I didn’t want to leave.” This time when he smiles, it looks genuine.

He clears his throat and continues, “Abbey tells me you work in a hospital– RN?

It was remarkable how much you knew about each other despite having very little conversations that didn’t surround Abbey; thanks to your oversharing kindergartener.

You wish that you could tell him you were a nurse, feeling increasingly embarrassed at your lack of a college education, but instead you reply, “Reception,” with a tight lipped smile. Having Abbey so young, and doing it alone at that, left no time for degrees or prestigious jobs.

You expect a sympathetic expression in response, maybe even distaste, but you find only sincerity etched across his features when he says, “That’s really neat, I could never do that. Hospitals they…kinda give me the heebie jeebies,”

“It’s definitely not for the faint of heart,” you agree, “I have so many crazy stories,”

“Well, I’d love to hear them sometime,” he smiles at you so tenderly that it makes you want to disintegrate and float away among the air that breezes through the open bus windows.

“Yeah, I’d like that”, you say, distracted by the hazel flecks in what you had previously thought were brown eyes. Luckily, the distinct jolt of tire on gravel bails you out of more awkward silence and before you know it, you’re filing off the bus and breathing in the scent of freshly picked apples and cow manure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You foolishly forget that Steve isn’t just here with you and your daughter on his own accord, and does actually have to do his job of wrangling children and organizing the day's activities. He proceeds to do a headcount, looking like he means business with one hand propped on his hip and a clipboard gripped in the other.

He captures everyone’s attention with ease as he does a quick call and response gesture, ‘Clap, Clap, Clap Clap Clap,’ you’re shocked at how efficiently it works to halt their chattering.

“Good morning, everyone!” He beams and the class responds with a choir of high-pitched ‘Good Morning, Mr. H!’’s, he continues, “Alright, so, I’m going to be splitting everyone into small groups. Each parent will have about five kiddos, and I’ll just be floating around to make sure everything goes smoothly. Sound like a plan?”

Everyone agrees in a sea of nods and murmurs and the kids bounce with anticipation– hoping that they might get placed in the same group as their friends. Finally, you hear your name called and Steve pairs you with five children: your own daughter, her friend Clarissa B., a little boy named Beck, his younger sister and a timid little girl named Sophia. You breathe a sigh of relief that you hadn’t realized you were holding when it becomes obvious that all the kids you were assigned seemed to be fairly reserved and not too rowdy.

You lead your little flock over to the barn, where several farm hands are waiting to assist the children in petting the cows, pigs and other various animals. There are red buckets full of pellets that you assume is feed for the goats scattered along the ground, and you can practically feel Abbey buzzing with excitement beside you. She had been begging you for a pet practically the second after she said her first word.

Steve makes his way over to you from the rows of apple trees in the orchard section of the farm while you supervise the kids holding their tiny palms out to the ravenous livestock– slightly anxious that one of them might lose a finger.

You feel a strong hand on your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t wanna pet a dirt-covered sheep?” Steve quips when he reaches you.

“Not particularly,” you huff a laugh, “I was never really a ‘farm animal’ person. I think a dog would suit me just fine,”

“Do you have one?”

“Oh, no. Abbey’s been asking me for one since she was, like, two? I think? I just don’t have the time, you know?”

“Believe me, I get it.” He seems pensive when he responds, looking out over the expanse of the farm, “I never had a pet growing up, either,”

Before you have the chance to express your remorse, Abbey calls, “Mommy, look! Come pet the goat!”

“Be right there!” You call back with thinly veiled reluctance.

“You heard the girl,” Steve pats your shoulder where his hand had been as if to say ‘Go on’. He has an amused if not smug expression when you turn to face him.

“Why don’t you go pet the goat, Mr. H,”

“Hey, she asked for you! Don’t shoot the messenger,” He laughs, “Don’t worry, I'll take over supervising for a minute,” he sends you a wink and it makes your stomach drop, just a bit, like when you miss a step on a staircase but catch yourself just before you fall.

A similar feeling strikes you when you actually do fall, slipping on a particularly slick patch of mud and landing flat on your back. It temporarily knocks the wind out of you, but the sensation is quickly replaced by a white hot embarrassment. Steve’s at your side in an instant, albeit poorly concealing a laugh, “Oh my God, are you okay?” he asks, a little bewildered as he kneels down to help you up and getting his own jeans muddy in the process. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind.

You groan, out of discomfort or humiliation, you’re not sure. He wraps two calloused hands around your biceps and hoists you up with a surprising amount of strength. By the time you’re on your feet again, Abbey’s also rushing towards you.

“Mommy, you have mud on your butt,” she giggles. Always Captain Obvious, your daughter.

“Thanks baby, I see that,”

She’s trying to shrug off her jacket to tie around your waist, even if she finds your current predicament rather amusing, but you stop her before she can get very far, “Keep it, Ab, it’s chilly out. I’m okay,” you falsely promise.

“Here, you can have mine,” Steve takes his windbreaker off to hand to you.

“Oh– you don’t have to do that, Steve,” feeling guilty that he’s even offering, “I’ll get mud all over it– and won’t you be cold?”

“Nah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “I run warm, plus I hear they just came out with these cool things that clean your clothes for you when they get dirty– washing machines I think they’re called?”

You playfully smack his arm and he smirks, “Don’t get smart, Harrington,” taking the jacket from him nonetheless, “Thank you. I’ll wash it for you tonight,”

He shoves his hands in his pockets after you take the garment, unsure what to do with them now that they’re empty, “Don’t mention it,” and there's that damned smile again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You promised Abbey yesterday that you could pick a bag of apples to make a pie together, so once everyone is satisfied with the time spent at the barn, you all make your way to the dozens of rows of trees, adorned with fresh, bright red fruit for plucking.

“What kind of apples do you think, Ab?” you look down to ask her, “They have Gala, Empire, Granny Smith,” you read off the signs marking each aisle.

“Whichever is the most juicy!”

“That would probably be HoneyCrisp, those are over this way, I think,” you say, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her in the right direction.

Abbey does more eating than picking, leaving you with all the heavy lifting, despite the numerous ‘No Eating’ signs. You just can’t bring yourself to stop her– not when she looks at you with so much unbridled joy. Eating the apples straight off the tree had always been your favorite part, too.

A row over from the one you were in, you watch as Steve lifts another student onto his shoulders so he can pick the specific apple he was jumping for, and you have to fight the corners of your lips from quirking up into a smile.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

There was a small wooden cabin near the gravel parking lot that doubled as a gift shop, and the shelves were stocked full of handmade knick knacks, glass bottles of maple syrup, and all sorts of treats. It smelled wonderfully of freshly baked fritters and cinnamon.

“Can I get this candy apple, mom?”

“I don’t know, baby, we have to make sure it doesn’t have any peanuts,”

Petulant whining follows before a cheerful, silvery voice declares, “Don’t worry, dear, It doesn’t.” When you turn to find the source, you’re met with an older, stout woman with grey hair adorned in a bandana– the owner, you presume.

“Can I, mommy?”

“Alright, okay. Put it on the counter with the bag of apples,”

She makes a beeline to the wooden counter, barely able to reach over the top as she slams the treat down, sporting a toothy grin.

“Thank you–” you search for her nametag but find nothing.

She fills in the blank for you, “Dorothy,” her lips wobble just a little when she smiles, face wrinkling from decades of laughter and grinning.

“Any time, honey. You two take care now,” she says when she finishes checking out your items. She wags a finger at Abbey, “You be good for your momma, missy,”

“Yes ma’am,” Abbey replies politely.

She skips in front of you contentedly, apple in hand, out of the shop and towards the rest of the waiting students.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Back on the bus, Abbey naps against your chest despite being slightly too big and the candy apple she begged you for is now getting stuck to your sleeve, but you don’t dare disturb her. Steve sits beside you again and this time the silence is much more tolerable; both of you exhausted from a day of governing twenty children, give or take.

“Abbey, uhm, told me about her dad,” he says timidly, nervous that the subject might cross a boundary, “I wanted to offer my condolences.”

You’d already resigned yourself to the fact that you’d have this conversation eventually– especially with Abbey being school aged now.

“I appreciate that,” you reassure, “It was a long time ago, I don’t think Abbey even remembers anything about him.” You realize in real time that this is the reason her questioning of her father has increased in the past few weeks.

He nods and pauses before he continues; contemplating, “Can I ask what happened?”

You turn only your head to look at him and he clarifies, “Abbey only said he ‘went to heaven’,”

“He, uh– car accident.” you answer simply, returning your gaze back to the crown of Abbey’s head resting peacefully on your chest, “She was just about a year old,”

The expression twisting his features urges you to reiterate that you’re okay– you’re both okay. You’ve had nearly six years to reconcile the loss of Jeremy; you’ve mourned, you’ve grieved and you’ve placed his memory tight in a sector of your heart that was designated just for him. But you didn’t want the pity anymore– you didn’t want to be the widow.

He seems to comprehend this despite you having said very little, and decides to drop the topic for now.

“She talks about you all the time, you know.” You nudge him gently with your shoulder and he becomes suddenly shy– a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“She talks about you all the time,” he counters, “just goes on and on about how her mom makes the best boxed mac and cheese, and always plays make believe with her– even when she says she’s tired.”

You feel the sting of unwanted tears welling behind your eyes, “Well, I–”

“--You do the best you can, and you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit,” he interrupts before you have the chance to discount yourself, “You’re a great mom, Y/N.”

One of the aforementioned tears breaches the edge of your lash line and falls rapidly down our cheek, dropping onto the soft cushion of Abbey’s hair. When the bus abruptly stops, you wipe your face quickly and smear the salty trail it left in its wake.

You harshly clear your throat, “Thanks, Steve,”

“You do that a lot,”

“I feel it a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Back at home, you set Abbey up in front of the television and peel your mud stained jeans off to throw them immediately in the wash, along with Steve’s jacket; not bothering with the hamper.

Once you’ve taken a quick shower to rinse the remaining crusted dirt off your thighs, you make your way back into the dimly lit living room to find Abbey asleep, once again, with her knees tucked into her chest, and the technicolor screen illuminating her features in tones of muted blue.

You strain your back to pick her up, but it’ll be worth it when she’s no longer small enough to carry bridal style into her all pink bedroom, and set atop her princess sheets. You’re thankful to have gotten her into her pajamas already– foreseeing this would happen.

There’s a dull longing in the center of your chest as you kiss her forehead and tuck the comforter up to her chin. It’s that same tug you felt after Jeremy died, when you realized you’d be putting your daughter to bed alone from that point on. It festered and grew until one day it became so routine that you didn’t remember what it felt like to have your partner there next to you, and then it dissipated completely.

Until tonight.

Except for this time the longing wasn’t for Jeremy. It wasn’t even for that ‘perfect man’ you’d sometimes conjure up in your mind’s eye just before you fell asleep at night.

It was for someone new.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

tag list - @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @cali-888 @jamdoughnutmagician @kolsmikaelson @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @mrsnarnian

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Like my father pt 2 {burb}

Sirius x Potter!Reader

An: Already writing part 3. This can also be read as a solo.

CW: Amos Diggory slander, not proof read, use of y/n, bad dates, just cheesy fluff,

Summary: Reader has a bad date and Sirius comes to the rescue

Wc: 2451

Part one Part three

“I genuinely can't believe you let her walk out that door with him.” James groaned from the love seat where Lily had found a perch in his lap.

It was just a few months after your graduation when you informed your family and co. that you were seeing someone. Someone four years older, Amos Diggory. James protested, Sirius protested, even your mother did. Didn't stop you from accepting his date invitation. Nor did it stop you from leaving to go out to eat with him either.

Lily rolled her eyes, gently nudging James with her elbow. “Oh, come off it, James. She’s not a child anymore. She can handle herself.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, every part of him was tense, despite how he played it cool. “Drop it, mate.”

James sat up straighter, glaring at Sirius with indignation. “Drop it? Are you serious? She’s going out with a guy who’s practically an adult! What if he tries something? You know how boys are at that age!”

“Yeah, he's one of them.” Remus muttered and took a sip of his tea, earning a smack from Sirius.

“Stop talking like she isn't old enough to make her own choices.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “She was bound to start dating eventually.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry! I mean.” James pointed at Sirius and then back at himself. “He's older than us. I don't like it.”

“Maybe he is, but she’s not going to be alone with him in a dark alley, James. They’re going to a restaurant,” Remus chimed in, giving an amused sigh. “Let her live a bit.”

“This conversation isn't happening again.” Lily groaned as she stood up, grabbing James by his hand. “We're going to bed.”

James looked up at Lily and squeezed her hand with an affectionate, hell, lovesick look. “Yes ma'am.”

“Whipped.” Sirius huffed and Remus gave him a look.

“Goodnight all.” James waved before he pointed at Sirius with a glare. “You're gonna lose her, mate. Get your shit together.”

Sirius flipped him off before he sunk back into his bed. Sighing threw his nose and sank into the couch.

“You can't ignore it forever, Sirius.” Remus muttered and Sirius gave a scoff.

“Oh, but I can. And I will. She trusts me, she likes me, she thinks I'm just the greatest. I'm okay with that.” Sirius sighed and Remus gave a huff.

“Sirius, if she likes this guy-”

“Then I'll be happy for her.” He interrupted and ran his fingers a bit more purposefully through his hair. “She'll find someone worth her time.”

“Ugh. Is this how it felt talking to me?” Remus mumbled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I'm nothing, Remus. I don't have a damn thing to offer her. Not even my name means more than hers.”

Remus frowned. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re a good guy, and you care about her. That counts for something. She wouldn't care about anything else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not enough,” Sirius grumbled, his voice laced with frustration. “I’m just her brother’s best friend. Some couch surfer her parents pitied. I’m not what she needs. Not when she could have someone like Amos. He’s got it all; looks, charm, and a future ahead of him. What do I have? A knack for getting into trouble and a penchant for living on the edge?”

“Sirius,” Remus interjected firmly, leaning forward. “You know she doesn't think like that. You haven't even given her the choice.”

“But she so often picks the wrong one.” He groaned and Remus shook his head.

“Just think about it, mate. I'm going to bed, you coming?”

“No I uhm…” Sirius glanced at the window and bit his cheek. “Think ima stay up for her. You know, to lock up after her.”

Remus slowly smiled and nodded, dismissing himself.

~~~

Sirius was shocked awake by the sound of the house phone ringing. He hissed and rubbed his eyes, having fallen asleep on the couch.

He groaned, the muffled ringing echoing through the house as he squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well past nine, when you should have been home. Who in their right mind was calling this late? He internally nagged himself for not being awake to welcome you home.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the couch, his body stiff from the awkward position he had been in. As he shuffled toward the kitchen, he could hear the phone ringing again, the sound almost piercing his ears. He reached the phone just as it stopped, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, it started ringing again.

“Ugh, bloody hell.” He muttered, picking up the receiver a bit more aggressively then needed. “Potter residence, what-”

“Sirius? Is that you?”

At the sound of your voice he almost toppled over. “Bambi? The hell? What are you still doing out?”

“Uhm.. dinner ran a bit later than I thought.” You whispered and you began to ring your fingers through the cord. “Would it.. would it be too much to ask you to come pick me up?”

Sirius thought about what you were asking for a moment, you didn't exactly sound thrilled to be there.

Not that he had to think about his answer for too long.

“Of course, bambi. Just stay put, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You sounded relieved, and Sirius could picture you visibly relaxing on the other end of the line.

He hung up the phone and quickly grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, his mind racing with questions.

Sirius slipped on his shoes and headed for the door, he paused and quickly grabbed a pair of your sneakers before hurrying out.

It wasn't long before he got to the restaurant. Walking at night wasn't Sirius’s idea of fun, but the idea of you sounding so nervous and scared, he didn't even realize how fast he was moving. Some fancy place he was sure you'd never be found dead in. Even with your family’s status, you'd more often than not be found in diners.

He walked in, standing awkwardly at the waiting area. He peeked over the hostess stand, looking around the restraint curiously, only able to spot Amos sitting at a table alone. He furrowed his brow, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

Turning around to see you, smiling up at him. The same smile you shot him when you headed out earlier tonight.

“Hey, little bug, what's going on?” His entire demeanor turned soft, and your smile faltered just a moment.

“I just wanna go home.” You whispered softly and Sirius took a glance back at the table, able to see Diggory looking around curiously.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist, escorting you out of the restaurant to the grand stairs that lead to the sidewalk. He pointed down to the last few steps. “Sit.”

You huffed but did as you were told. Watching as he kneeled in front of you and took off your heels, replacing them with your sneakers.

You hugged yourself, the noodle strap dress doing very little to cut the cold. “Thank you, Siri…”

He sighed a bit at the nickname, standing up and taking your hand to help you up. “Did you call me all the way out here to ditch some boy?”

“Merlin, Siri, he's such a git.” You hissed and looped your arm around his. Clinging to what little warmth he gave off, as he began to lead you home.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and curiosity flooding his thoughts. “What do you mean? What happened?”

You leaned into him a bit more, seeking comfort from the chill in the air and the whirlwind of emotions from the evening. Not used to the more casual treatment from men. Usually, being James Potter’s sister was a reminder enough for men to go above and beyond for your attention.

Given your brother was the boy who would dedicate his Quidditch Cup wins to his girlfriend or declare his love with obnoxious displays. Of course, {Y/N} Potter wouldn't entertain anything less. Seems Amos figured a pretty face was enough. “It started off fine, but then he just… I don’t know, he got too flirty and it felt really off. I thought I could handle it, but he just kept pushing. I felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make a scene.”

“Flirty how?” Sirius asked, keeping his voice low and steady, trying to gauge how serious the situation was. Debating on if it was worth running back in.

“He kept talking about how pretty I looked and how lucky he was to be with me.” You explained, your voice barely above a whisper. “At first, it was nice. I mean, you know I like being flattered.”

“What? No. I would have never guessed.” Sirius mocked and you hit his side with a huff.

“Shut up!” You laughed lightly, but the tension in your voice betrayed your discomfort. “But then he started getting too personal, asking if I was a good kisser and if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. It just felt… wrong.”

Sirius felt a surge of anger course through him, and he tightened his grip on your arm as you walked together. “Did you tell him to back off?”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “I did, but he just brushed it off and laughed. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just made up an excuse about needing to call you. It was the only way I could get out of there.”

“Good thinking.” He praised, his voice softening. “You did the right thing. You don’t have to put up with that kind of behavior from anyone, no matter how charming they might seem.”

You looked up at him, slowly your bottom lip began to quiver and he gave a surprised and panicked look. Before his expression slowly turned soft. “Oh, bambi.”

“I didn't like it.” You whispered, quickly lifting your free hand to dry your gathering tears. “It was my first date and I hated it.”

“Hey, hey.” He whispered and stopped walking. Lifting his hand to shoo away your own, using his thumb to dry your tears. “Hey, none of that, it wasn't your fault.”

“He was so gross.” You whined out and he tutted, pulling away as you took a shaky breath. “And his cologne smells awful.”

Sirius gave a startled chuckle and you slowly smiled up at him. “Smelt like a mix of cheap aftershave and desperation.” You added, a hint of laughter breaking through your earlier distress. He gave a louder laugh as he began to lead you back down the street.

“How cruel of you.” He chuckled and you shook your head, giving a small sniff. “How cruel of me? How cruel of him! I had to smell it all night, I'm the victim here.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile at your determination to find humor in the situation despite how upset you had been moments earlier. “You’re absolutely right.”

You giggled, the sound warming Sirius’s heart. It was nice to see you lightening up, even if just a little. “I mean, really, if you’re going to wear something that strong, at least make sure it doesn’t smell like it came from the bargain bin. My dad has better smelling cologne and he actually gets it from the bargain bin.”

He shook his head. “Do you even know cologne? Is that even on your radar?”

“Well, no but.. I like my dads. And yours.” You hummed and leaned in closer, taking a small whiff of him before you scrunched up your nose. “Not this one. The green bottle.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “The one I wore at Hogwarts?”

You laughed, your tension easing. “Definitely. It smells way better than what that git was wearing. You’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to swoon anyone tonight.” He hummed, his tone suddenly more serious as he looked down at you. “I’m just focused on getting you home safe.”

You met his gaze, a mix of gratitude and warmth filling your chest. “I appreciate that, Sirius. It means a lot to me.”

“Course. Next time you need a date, you just let me know, and I’ll screen them first,” Sirius offered, half-joking but also completely serious. “I’ll make sure they meet the ‘Sirius Standard.’”

You laughed. “The Sirius Standard? Oh please, I know how you treat your girls.”

“Not my girls. They aren't my girls.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You don't have girls anymore? You've changed, Black.”

“Who needs girls when I got you to look after? Too much work if you ask me.” He huffed and you slowly smiled, fiddling with the threads of his warn jacket.

You guys eased into a calm silence. It wasn't long until you were home, and he was lifting up his keys and kneeling down to take off your shoe. You gave a sleepy yawn, looking down as he stood infront of you.

He did a double take, noticing how you chewed your lip.

“What's on your mind, bambi?”

“Just.. boys. Is it weird, Siri? That I haven't dated yet?”

“What? Doll, is that why you went out with him?”

“... maybe. Just.. James got to me the other day. I haven't dated anyone, that can't be normal.”

He cooed and walked over to you, “It's not, but it's special. You know what you want. That's a good thing.”

You looked up at him, your expression thoughtful. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He affirmed confidently. “You’re not going to settle for just anyone. You’ll wait for someone who makes you feel safe and happy. That’s way more important than just dating for the sake of it.��

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Sirius. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That's my job, isn't it?” He grinned back at you, before lifting up his arms. “Come ‘er.”

You giggled and hurried over to him, slipping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Don't go rushing into things, bams. You've got a lot of years to find someone.” He whispered against your hair and you absolutely melted into him. Not noticing as the stairs from the second floor creaked and James peaked down to look at Sirius. Giving him a smile and hurrying back upstairs.

“Siri?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Is it Grease?”

“... maybe.”

[alsofoundinpeas]

Rewind the Goodbye

Summary: One night is all it takes to unravel everything Y/N and Spencer had carefully built over the years of their relationship. But sometimes, the things we break can be mended once more.

(Basically an AU for the events of season 15 episode 6 Date Night)

Requested fic!! 🥳: Can we get a smutty Spencer Reid x reader reunion? It's them passionately coming back together after a messy breakup (JJ's confession or Cat's date night). Basically Spencer grovelling and worshipping reader. Happy/hopeful ending!

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Cat Adams (she's a warning all on her own). Really intense argument (both Spencer and Reader say some pretty mean things). Oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected PinV sex (do not actually do this k thanks!!), creampie (can we pls find another word for this pls), crying during sex (both Spencer and reader oops), groveling/begging man (Spence, I'm looking at you babe), heavy praise, multiple orgasms (f!receiving) and slight overstimulation (both parties). Angst turned happy ending!! Ex's to lovers!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: My very first request!! :') Thank you so very much to the anon who requested this <3 I hope you like it! :) I chose to go with the Cat storyline because I had to prove I am NOT a JJ hater LMAO plus I felt like it was a really interesting dynamic to play off of because I always felt it was odd how chill Max was about her family getting kidnapped and him making out with an actual psychopath in front of her (I get that Max is simply a chill girl and beyond super understanding, which we love!! I’m just saying I personally would’ve tweaked a smidge (not on him, just overall LMAO). This was as fun as it was heart-wrenching to write and I truly hope you guys enjoy it. As always, please like, reblog, and share with your friends if you enjoy it. I love you all! K <3

Y/N remembered the night everything fell apart as if it had happened only yesterday.

She'd been on edge all evening, knowing Spencer was only on the date with Cat for the sake of his job and for the sake of rescuing her father and sister. It didn't make the plan any easier to swallow. Her mind raced with worry as she paced the apartment, waiting for him to come home. All she wanted was for her family to be safe. For Spencer to be safe.

Things had been strained between them ever since Spencer got out of prison. Y/N knew he couldn't be the same person he was before. She understood that. But she hadn't expected this—his detachment, the walls he'd built between them.

He stopped talking to her, stopped sharing his thoughts, retreating inward until the pressure became too much. Then, he'd snap—lashing out in bursts of anger, throwing things, slamming doors, yanking at his hair. He never turned that anger on her directly, but it didn't matter. Seeing the man she'd once known as calm and steady unravel before her was jarring and heartbreaking, especially after years of him being the embodiment of composure.

Y/N remained patient through it all. Spencer had endured more in his short life than most could fathom. The least she could do was offer her empathy and support, no matter how much he pushed her away, reacting like a wounded animal desperate to protect itself. She was determined to do whatever it took to help mend the beautiful, fractured man she loved, even if it meant enduring a few emotional scars along the way.

Y/N never expected those emotional scars to include all of this.

She could feel her heart shattering as the door to their apartment creaked open, revealing her fiancé passionately making out with the most vile woman to walk the Earth. His hands were cradling her face, pulling her into him as Cat stared straight at her.

It was more affection than Spencer had shown her since his release, and quite frankly it didn't seem like he was putting on much of an act.

The only reason Y/N was at the apartment instead of searching for her sister was because the team had located her father—thankfully, he was safe and unharmed, aside from a few bruises—and had contacted her with a plan that Spencer wasn’t aware of. They had uncovered Cat’s hidden agenda: Juliette had been watching Spencer and had discovered the one secret he’d managed to keep from Cat—her. Now, Cat wanted to destroy his life one final time before she died.

The team anticipated that Cat would want to return to their apartment to flaunt the fact that Spencer was 'hers.' Once Cat's ego was satisfied, she'd be more likely to slip up and reveal information about her sister's whereabouts. Y/N agreed without hesitation. After all, she’d do anything to ensure the safety of the people she loved—even if it meant putting herself in an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous position with a psychopath.

JJ had coached her on how to mask her emotions in front of Cat, preparing her for the inevitable confrontation. What JJ hadn't prepared her for was watching the love of her life shove his tongue down Cat's throat like he'd never felt the touch of a woman before.

Y/N braced herself, locking eyes with Cat as she adopted a detached, nonchalant demeanor.

Internally, she felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to curl up and sob into her knees until this nightmare was over. She had already felt powerless when Spencer was wrongfully imprisoned, and now the guilt of her father and sister being taken by Cat’s former cellmate was gnawing at her from the inside out.

All of that pain and heartache for a man who clearly no longer loved her.

Y/N remained composed for the rest of the evening, leaving with Emily as soon as possible to be with her dad and sister now that it was all over. She didn’t spare Spencer a single glance on her way out, choosing to fight that battle later.

And a battle it was.

When Y/N saw her sister's tear-streaked face and her father's defeated posture despite trying to put on a brave front, she knew she needed to stay with them for a few days. She ignored all of Spencer's calls and texts, replying only with a terse I'll be home by Friday. Though she tried to rationalize it as something Spencer had done out of necessity to save her family, the image of him kissing Cat haunted her, and she couldn’t bring herself to face him right now.

As Y/N stepped into their eerily silent apartment Friday night, she immediately realized how much of a mistake ignoring Spencer had been. She quietly closed the door behind her, slipped off her shoes, and placed them on the rack. But as she turned to head toward their room, she was met with the sight of Spencer right behind her, so unexpectedly close that she yelped, her heart racing as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ—"

"Why have you been ignoring me?"

Spencer’s voice was cold, his eyes filled with pain as he looked down at her. Y/N felt a rush of guilt at the expression on his face, her resolve faltering for a moment before she reminded herself why she had been avoiding him in the first place. That guilt hardened into anger, her eyes narrowing as she glared up at him.

"Why did you make out with a deranged criminal?"

Spencer stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape as confusion flickered across his face. Y/N brushed past him, heading into the kitchen. Her purse hit the counter with a loud clatter. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but the hurt and exhaustion weighed too heavily on her to care.

"Y/N, I didn’t have a choice—" Spencer protested, trailing after her with his hands raised in frustration. "I didn't know you'd be here! That was the last thing I wanted to happen, but I did it for the sake of the case."

She rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping as she leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "So you can tongue-fuck her for the sake of the case... yet you won’t lift a finger to keep your fiancée?"

The words had left her mouth before she could stop them, but she meant them.

Spencer stood across the kitchen, a look of disbelief on his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why would I be losing you?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, casting her gaze to the floor. If there was ever a time to finally let it all out, now would be it. So, with a deep exhale, she began.

"Spencer… I’ve tried to be patient, and I’ve tried to understand, knowing what you went through was unimaginable. I'm not at all saying I expect you to be who you once were, because I know that's impossible. But most days, I feel more like your doormat than your fiancée. You only talk to me in short, half-hearted conversations, and I’m the one who usually has to start them. I feel like I have to beg for your time when you're home. We haven’t been on a date in months. You won’t even talk to me about the wedding anymore…" Y/N’s voice cracked as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I’ve tolerated all of that, and yet I’m supposed to just accept that you kissed the woman who not only destroyed your life, but mine too—taking the man I love and turning him into this… hollow version of who he used to be?"

All she wanted was for him to truly listen, to finally acknowledge how things had been between them, and to try—just try—to make an effort to fix them.

Instead, he did the opposite.

"Are you seriously playing the victim when what I did was to save your family?" Spencer snapped, disbelief in his voice. "Did you even consider for a second how traumatizing that whole night was for me? Going on a date with a woman who tried to kill my mother, who framed me for a crime I didn’t commit that left me rotting in that hellhole for months? But I’m the villain because I’m processing my own trauma, and I’m not up your ass planning a wedding I never even wanted?!"

Y/N's heart sank as his words cut through her, tears welling up in her eyes. A wedding he never wanted? The hurt and frustration she’d been suppressing for months bubbled to the surface, and she fixed him with a steely glare, her anger flaring.

"My family never would have been in that situation if you had a normal fucking job!" she shouted, her finger jabbing at him in accusation. "And as for the wedding you never wanted, fine. We won’t have one!" With a fierce motion, she ripped the ring off her finger and slammed it onto the counter before storming down the hallway toward their bedroom, tears streaming down her face.

Spencer’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he stared at the ring on the counter, his pride battling his guilt. Despite knowing he was in the wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Y/N had been nothing but loving and devoted to him, yet something ugly inside him had taken over, and he couldn’t control it.

"That’s not what I meant," Spencer said, his voice tight as he went after her. "But if that’s how you want to spin it, fine—what are you doing?" He stopped dead in the doorway, his heart sinking as he watched Y/N hastily pack a duffle bag. What was he even doing?

"I can't do this anymore," Y/N sobbed, lifting the duffle bag onto her shoulder as she turned to face him. Her plan was to spend a night or two with her best friend to let everything die down between them so they could talk rationally.

She had only meant the fighting, but Spencer took it as the end of everything between them.

"Then leave! Since that's clearly what you want so badly," Spencer hissed, his voice sharp, though the tears welling in his eyes betrayed his anger. The last thing he wanted was for her to walk away. Why had he said that?

Y/N just shook her head, pushing past him and out of the room. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and, with a furious shout of "Fuck you!" down the hall, slammed the front door behind her.

For the rest of the weekend, Y/N stayed with her family, retreating to her childhood bed every night where she cried herself to sleep. By Wednesday, she had found a one-bedroom apartment across town that was available to move into immediately. She checked with Emily, confirming that the team was away on a case (thankfully, Emily didn’t ask any questions). Y/N spent that week packing up her things, and moving out while Spencer was gone. On the day she left, she placed the key beside the ring on the counter, taking a final, aching glance at the symbol of everything she had once hoped for. Then, with a heavy heart, she closed the door, leaving everything she’d ever wanted behind.

Now, standing in her pajamas with her mouth slightly agape, Y/N found herself staring in disbelief at none other than Spencer Reid on her doorstep.

She blinked rapidly, ensuring she was awake and not caught in another dream. But she wasn’t dreaming. Spencer was standing before her—real, panting, and drenched. It was the first time she’d seen him since moving out three months ago, and 'exhausted' didn’t even begin to cover how he looked. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words.

“…How did you find out where I live?”

Spencer looked down, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I… I asked Penelope to find your new address."

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for the door to slam it in his face. The nerve of him, having his coworker practically stalk her and then showing up after breaking her heart—

"Y/N, wait—please!" Spencer called out, wedging his foot in the door as she tried to shut it. "Just hear me out. Please?"

Her shoulders slumped as she paused, torn between the urge to shut him out and the pull to let him in. After a moment, she opened the door just wide enough for him to step through. As much as it pained her to face him, her love for him—and the ache of missing him—was deeper than words could ever express.

"I'll get you a towel, and then we can sit," Y/N muttered, rushing toward the bathroom as he stood by the door, slipping off his shoes.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him when she returned, their fingers lightly brushing as she passed him the plush towel.

Spencer was soaked through from the pouring rain, shivering as the damp fabric clung to his skin. She could see the discomfort in his posture as if the wet clothes were grating against him. He reminded her of those heart-wrenching shelter dogs in commercials—lost, vulnerable, and desperately needing care. He looked so pitiful… and all she wanted was to take care of him like she used to.

“Go sit on the couch. I’ll be right back,” Y/N instructed quietly, her expression softening as his weary eyes met hers.

Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion but complied, folding the towel and sitting carefully to keep the cushions dry. Y/N disappeared down the hallway, returning shortly with a pair of pajamas in her hands. As she offered them to him, a sharp pang of jealousy shot through him. He glanced down at the men’s clothes, then looked up at her, his expression filled with quiet hurt.

"Oh, come on," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she sat beside him. "They’re yours. I… found them mixed in with my things and just kept them in my drawer."

That was a lie. She had carefully packed them, clinging to the smallest piece of him when she left. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Spencer unfolded the clothes, the knot in his chest loosening as he recognized them as his missing pajamas. The jealousy that had gripped him slowly faded, replaced by relief. "Sorry," he said softly, standing up from the couch. "Where can I… um, change into these?"

"The bathroom's down the hallway, to the left," Y/N said, gesturing vaguely toward the dark corridor.

Once Spencer was changed into the dry clothes and not trembling like a leaf, he stiffly sat beside her again. Y/N frowned, taking a moment to really look at him, and a wave of concern washed over her. His once bright, maple-syrup eyes—eyes she used to gaze into with such love—were now dull and shadowed by dark circles. His stubble had grown out, and he sat hunched, as though the weight of the world was bearing down on him.

"Spencer… what are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her words cutting through the thick silence that had settled between them.

His gaze shifted from his hands, nervously twisting in his lap, to meet her eyes. There was a quiet, desperate longing in his gaze as he studied her, almost as if he were reacquainting himself with the woman in front of him. It had only been three months since they'd separated, but even a single day apart from her felt like an eternity.

“Y/N…” Spencer’s voice faltered, his lower lip trembling as he drew in a shaky breath. “Three months ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. You tried to tell me how you were feeling, but I—” His words broke off, and he swallowed hard, eyes lowering as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

Y/N instinctively reached for his hands, unable to stop herself, her heart aching at the sight of his pain.

“I never meant a word of what I said that night. I swear I didn’t. I just— I lashed out, Y/N,” Spencer confessed, his voice breaking under the weight of his words. “I was scared. I sabotaged myself. I let the anger take over, convinced that Cat had finally won—that she’d ruined everything by taking away the one thing I couldn’t live without… you.”

Spencer’s tears flowed freely now, his face streaked with grief. He gripped her hands as though they were his last lifeline, afraid that if he loosened his hold, he'd flatline right there on her couch.

"But this is the one thing I can't blame on her… Despite everything she’s done, I was the one that pushed you away. I had convinced myself that once I came home and you learned what I had to do to survive, you’d be disgusted by me… that you’d hate who I’d become. So I shut you out, thinking it would spare me from that. But regardless of everything, you were still there—supportive, patient, loving... And I just... I was such an asshole."

Spencer clenched his eyes shut, his throat tightening as he struggled to pull himself together.

"I was so wrapped up in my own fears, convinced of something that wasn’t even real, that I ended up making it happen. When you tried to talk to me that night, I was sure you were trying to end things, so I panicked and ended everything like an absolute idiot. I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I should’ve just listened."

Y/N’s eyes widened, a small gasp slipping from her lips as he moved from his spot beside her on the couch to sink to the ground in front of her. He let go of her hands, gripping her hips and digging his head into her lap as sobs wracked his body.

"Y/N, please," Spencer's voice cracked, his eyes searching hers with desperation when he looked up. "I know I hurt you, and I can’t undo that. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it… and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, but I can’t live without you. Please... take me back. I'll do whatever it takes. I need you more than anything. You’re my everything." His words were a soft, broken whisper, and his eyes filled with tears as he looked up at her, hoping for a chance to make things right.

Y/N felt her heart break all over again as she looked down at Spencer, her trembling hands coming up to cradle his face as she exhaled deeply.

Even though the pain from everything that had happened still gnawed at her, his explanation dulled some of the grief and filled in the gaps of her confusion. Over the three months apart, she hadn’t come to hate him as she’d feared. In fact, it was the opposite—being without him had only made her love him more. Now that she knew the emptiness of life without him, she couldn’t imagine a future for herself that he wasn’t a part of.

"Spencer… I never stopped being yours," Y/N whispered, her thumb brushing away his tears. "I’m still hurt, but I can’t picture my life without you. You’re my heart, my forever... Nothing will change that. So, if you're willing to put in the work to fix your mistake, then I'm willing to give us another chance."

Spencer looked up at her, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and disbelief that she wasn't turning him away, but giving him the chance to return. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I’m so, so thankful for you, Y/N. I love you. I love you more than you’ll ever know." He sniffled, his breath shaky as he gently pressed a kiss to her wrist.

Y/N smiled wistfully, letting out a soft, watery laugh as she felt his lips on her skin. "Come here, Spence," she whispered, gently pulling him up to meet her before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

The moment their lips met again, after months of separation, a spark ignited between them, breathing life back into their souls as they lost themselves in each other. Within seconds, their kiss shifted from gentle and heartfelt to intense and all-consuming. Every emotion they'd felt while apart transferred between them through the brushing of their tongues, translating into action as their hands began to roam.

A simultaneous moan filled the air between them, fueling Spencer as he broke the kiss to stand from his awkward positioning on the floor to lift Y/N into his arms in a surprising show of strength. She squealed, wrapping her legs around his waist as he began to carry her down the hall toward her bedroom. With an impatient shove of his foot, the door opened, allowing them to stumble into her dimly lit room in a fit of breathless giggles.

The storm howled outside, lightning slashing through the darkness, briefly lighting the room with each strike as Spencer laid her across the middle of her bed, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips once more.

“How did—“ Spencer’s lips left hers to trail down her jaw. “I ever—“ A soft moan fell from her as his lips made their way to the crook of her neck. “Think I could live without this?” A sharp gasp escaped into the night air as he sucked a possessive mark into her skin.

Satisfied with the bruise blossoming across her skin, his mouth dragged upwards back to hers. “There isn’t… a single lifetime… or universe… where every atom in my body…. wouldn’t be irresistibly drawn to you,” He murmured reverently between kisses, pressing her further into the bed as he hovered above her. A moan rumbled in his chest as her fingers tangled into his damp hair, her mouth moving frantically against his.

“Spencer—“ Y/N whimpered, breaking the kiss and arching into his touch as his hips rolled against hers. “I need you—“

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he whispered softly. "But I've got so much time to make up for. I'm going to take it slow, and I'm going to show you how much you truly mean to me."

Spencer slithered down her body, kneeling on the ground and pulling her toward the edge of the bed until her legs dangled over the side, pressing a kiss to each of her knees as he settled between them. “Going to worship you the way you deserve,” He breathed, his fingers finding the drawstring of her pajama pants and untying them slowly as he kept his eyes on hers.

Y/N sat up on her elbows, her breath hitched as he dragged the fabric off of her body. Hot, open-mouthed kisses peppered up and down the inside of her thighs as soon as the pants hit the ground, his fingers tracing up her goose-bumped skin until they found the edge of her panties. He leaned forward, unable to hold himself back any longer as he dragged them down her body with his teeth.

A shiver ran down her spine as he trailed his lips up her leg, the anticipation heightening her sensitivity. Before she could beg for him to just get on with it, his mouth latched onto her clit, lapping furiously at her arousal.

“Oh— fuck!” Y/N cried out, her hands shooting out to thread through his hair as he began to devour her.

Spencer groaned against her skin, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she was sure there would be small, fingerprint shaped bruises the next day. His eyes were squeezed shut, a look of pure ecstasy on his face while he buried his face in her folds. He lapped at her as though she herself were an aphrodisiac, dizzying and potent and all consuming in a way that left him helpless to her effect on him.

Y/N writhed underneath him as he pulled her into him, soft noises slipping unabashedly from her lips as pleasure seared through her.

He released one of her hips to bring his fingers up to her entrance. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger into her warmth, his tongue flicking against her clit in tandem as he began to thrust the digit into her. He soon followed it with his ring finger, curling them in the way he knew would have her shaking against him.

“God— I missed this. Missed you,” Spencer groaned, turning his head to nip at her thigh as he panted against her skin. His fingers thrusted harder, repeatedly brushing her G-spot as she cried out for him. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl? Hm?”

Y/N whined, nodding frantically as her grip tightened in his hair. “I’m... please, I’m so close—“ she panted, a guttural moan wrenching its way from her throat as he returned his mouth to her clit.

That’s all it took to push her over the edge. As she crumbled beneath him, a thunderclap reverberated through the walls, its timing almost poetic in its synchronization with her climax. Her thighs clamped around his head as her hips bucked into his touch, trembling as he worked her through it.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck, you’re divine—“ Spencer cooed, hovering above her again as his lips pressed to her forehead. “I need to be inside of you. Need to feel you. Please, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving as she panted, still reeling from the first orgasm she’d had in months. Dazedly, she nodded, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. “Please, Spence. Need you so bad, baby—“

Spencer whined, breaking away from her to hurriedly lift her shirt over her head. The sight of her, bare and flushed from her orgasm, had an almost feral wave of arousal crashing over him. Before him lied the woman he loved with every fiber of his being, trusting him with her heart again despite the pain he'd caused her before. This time, though, he was determined to protect it— to show her, day after day, just how deeply he loved her, ensuring she'd never feel forgotten or neglected again.

He stripped away his own layers, trembling with anticipation as he crawled over her. Y/N shifted, her thighs parting to make room for him between them as she laid back against her pillows. The tension in the air was palpable as he braced his arms on either side of her head, lowering himself so their chests brushed together.

"I love you, Y/N. More than words can ever say," Spencer murmured, resting his forehead against hers as he lined up his aching cock at her entrance. "You are the reason I breathe, the reason I wake up each day. You’re my saving grace, my redemption… I love you."

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she cradled his face, their noses brushing in a soft, intimate touch. "I love you, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice thick with raw emotion. “Every version of you. Always and forever.”

Their mouths dropped open into a silent moan as he slowly began to ease into her, inch by inch as Y/N re-adjusted to the stretch of him. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut at the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of her again after so long, inhaling sharply through his nose as he bottomed out. Her nails dug into his shoulder, the sting only heightening the intense pleasure coursing through him.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," He moaned brokenly, hissing as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "So, so perfect for me."

Y/N whimpered, wriggling her hips in a silent plea for him to start moving. Her head tipped back into the pillow at his first thrust, a soft gasp falling from her lips as he repeated the motion. Her hands left his shoulders, finding purchase in his hair as she pulled his mouth to hers once more as he found a steady rhythm.

Spencer moaned into her mouth, rocking into her with short, hard thrusts. Tears slipped down Spencer’s face, falling softly onto her cheeks as he held her close. He couldn’t contain the overwhelming rush of emotion, savoring the warmth of having the love of his life back in his arms. He never thought he'd feel this again, and he couldn’t be more grateful as he pulled back to stare at the woman beneath him.

Tears streamed down her face as she gazed up at him, her eyes full of reverence. The silent mix of their tears spoke volumes, each drop a reflection of everything they had been through and everything they were now.

Y/N's nails dragged down his back as his hips began to pound into hers, the bed creaking with each sharp thrust he delivered. Spencer was murmuring into the crook of her neck now, needy moans slipping free between the soft praise he rained down upon her as she cried out for him.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart. My sweet girl. I love you," he crooned into her skin, panting as he neared his climax. "Love how you feel for me. So fucking wet. So tight."

Their moans mingled together as he shifted above her, resting his weight on one arm as the other pressed her knee toward her chest. The change in angle drove him straight into her G-spot, causing her to cry out his name as he drilled into her.

"You're everything I could ever need. You have every part of my soul, all of it. I'm yours—completely and utterly yours."

Spencer's words triggered her second orgasm, her walls clenching around him as she sobbed her release. He groaned loudly, the feeling of her cumming around his cock sending him hurtling off the edge as he sank as deeply as he could inside of her, giving her everything he had.

His hips rolled into hers gently as they came down from their highs until they were both whimpering from the oversensitivity, finally slowing to a stop as he collapsed on top of her. His lips softly pressed against her skin, a flurry of kisses landing on her face and shoulder. She laughed, trying to wiggle away from him, pushing him gently as she playfully squirmed beneath his affection.

As they cleaned up, tender kisses and gentle words passed between them, the heavy burden of the past few months slowly lifting. In the stillness, a quiet peace settled between them, a mutual understanding that no matter what came next, everything would be okay because they had each other once more. They crawled back into her bed, cuddling together as they listened to the storm start to die down.

"So… I can ask Emily for some time off next week, and we can get you moved back in?" Spencer suggested, his fingers lightly tracing up and down her back as they lay together.

Y/N tilted her head, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth as she looked up at him. "You do realize I’ve still got three months left on this lease, right?"

Spencer waved his hand, a hint of urgency in his voice as he shook his head. “I’ll cover the rest of it. Then you can break the lease, Y/N. Just come home, please.”

Her heart warmed at the depth of sincerity in his voice, knowing he meant every word. Sighing softly, she gave in, nodding as she nestled closer to him, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over. They exchanged quiet, tender kisses and murmured goodnights, and soon Spencer’s breathing slowed, signaling he was asleep. Once she was sure he was resting peacefully, she carefully pulled back just enough to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering for a brief moment before she whispered into the stillness of the room.

“You are my home.”

Continued A/N's: I think this was quite honestly one of my favorite fics I've written so far. I love love love some angst turned happy ending and I LOVE a man begging on his knees 🙂‍↕️ Again, thank you so very much to the anon who requested this!! I have two more requests lined up after this that I can't wait to get written and posted. :) <3 K

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Just had another Jimmy thought...

If Curly had a daughter he would definitely introduce Jimmy as an uncle of sorts... Cutting it short once shes of age Uncle Jimmy about to get a whole lot creepier.

First he pulls you on his lap while He and your dad Curly are watching football or something, and you feel something but you dont say anything... but your dad needed to run to the store to grab some more beer. -Cupcake anon

Your own age.

Uncle! Jimmy x Curly's Daughter! Reader.

warnings: age gap(reader is an adult),toxic relationship themes, jimmy is a major creep, non-consensual touching. curly is an oblivious single father.

a/n; cupcake anon, you're a fucking genius. love you for sharing this prompt with me,hope I was able to do it justice!

It wasn't fun being a well respected captain's daughter. Especially after your mom left, your dad would leave for shipments for months on end,and you had to spend a good chunk of your childhood with nannies rather than your parents.

But that was when he came along,Jimmy... Or Jim,as your dad would call him. He was your dad's closest friend since childhood,and now he was gonna be... Living with the two of you? Your dad said that it was due to the shortage of leases on the market currently,but you know damn well it was because that jimmy person was just a broke guy.

"hey,so you're the daughter I keep hearing my friend talk about,huh?".

"uh yeah,my name is y/n".

"y/n huh? well that's a pretty name for a pretty little girl".

you did think it was strange as to how,Jimmy... or well,uncle jimmy as your dad advised you to call him, was so Frank and open minded with you,but you realised that's just how men in his situation were. Open-minded,and careless.

Uncle jimmy... was an interesting man to say the least,you hadn't really had the luck of having any fun 'relatives' for that matter so you thought this was the best as it was gonna get. Jimmy would offer you cigarettes. Something that your father had clearly mentioned in front of him was off limits for you.

"C'mon aren't you a big girl now? some rules are meant to be broken y'know?

"but dad would kill me if he ever found out..."

"it's alright,it will be our little secret".

All in all you started warming up to him,you thought that hey,this guy is already down on his luck,and he's also so fun to be around! wouldn't hurt to be friendly with him.

It didn't matter how unnecessarily long his hugs were,or how suffocating they were. he would always hug you so tight that you had to physically wriggle your way out of his grasp. on some occasions you could've sworn you heard him say something under his breath.

It didn't matter how he would stare at you for long periods of time if the two of you were in the same room,you thought maybe it's just a middle aged man thing

It didn't matter how during road trips,he would sit in the backseat beside you instead of sitting beside his best friend in the front. How somehow his hands would always find it's way to be on your thigh.

He was a fun guy after all! He lets you drink,smoke,and sneak out. Do all the things which your dad would have crucified you for.

Seeing both of you so close would have your dad asking you—

"wow you sure are having fun with uncle jimmy,huh? you guys seem to be close".

"yeah he's so cool! it's super fun to be around him".

"fun huh? Well im hoping it's a good kind of fun,honey".

But curly shouldn't be worried! His best friend was just taking care of his daughter... Right? He wouldn't do anything,wrong... Right? That much faith curly should have in his best friend... Should he not?

Your dad and uncle had a habit of watching football games during weekend nights,and you decided to join them one such night.

While watching the game,jimmy suddenly turned to you,and said.

'oi y/n, c'mere and sit" as he motioned towards his lap,he turned towards curly and said. "For old times sake,eh? You remember how I used to carry ya around? I'm feelin nostalgic".

Curly was already feeling tipsy from the 3rd pint of beer he was chugging,so he just laughter and said "haha,you guys are so adorable!".

Albeit,a strange request,you decided to do as your uncle asked anyway,and you went to him and plopped on his lap. No matter his lanky figure,he was still strong enough to carry your weight. So he had no problem in adjusting himself to have you sir on his lap while still getting a comfortable view of the ongoing game.

everybody was focusing on the game,but you,your focus was on something else entirely,all the while you were sitting on his lap, you could feel Jimmy's hot breath on your shoulder,how his left hand was rested at your side,firmly placing a grip, you could feel his heart beating, and you don't know what got over you,but you decided to do something risky, somthing vulgar which you hadn't even properly processed in your mind.

You grinded against him just a little,and that was enough to get his heart beating 10 times faster,you could practically feel his breath hitch,and him letting out the quietest groan. And you felt something hard between you legs,you realised that you had just gotten him rock hard. you felt accomplished for some reason. But that's when your dad decided to drop off the bomb.

"wait,fuck we're out of beer,jimmy look after y/n while I make a quick trip to the store to get few more".

"you got it boss".

You knew that it was wraps the moment your dad walked out the front door and closed it behind him. You blinked and suddenly you were pinned down onto the sofa, your uncle had both your hands pressed firmly above your head,he stared at you like a wild animal on the prowl, hunting its prey.

"damn,I didn't know that you were so dirty, grinding against me like that,you know how 'fuckin hard it was for me to keep from moaning?,you deserve to get punished for it don't you think?".

• you intently stared him,not knowing what to do,excited yet scared of what he was going to do next.

And then without a warning,he smashed his lips against yours,into a rough, messy, hungry kiss. he tasted like liquor with a hint of cigarettes,the cheap brand which he smokes all the time. His tongue was wildly exploring every inch of your mouth, he felt like an animal in heat.

then in between the kiss he said, "you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this,kid".

you already knew that this was going to be quick as your dad would be back from the store in no time,but you also knew,that this was the beginning of something,very long, something very vulgar. and even though it might be wrong,you felt eager,you felt excited. you were looking forward to whatever was going to happen next.

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 13

______________________________

"We have to get off this ship" Annabeth whispers "the amount of monsters here aren't normal, something is going on" she says

You were about to agree then a loud clang was heard, you four quickly hid

Looking at the window you see straw dummies with orange camp half-blood shirts, a Dracaenae (dragon women) rips the dummies and the other monsters cheer

"—Don't push me Agrius!" You feel both Annabeth and Percy stiffen as the sudden voice seeps into your ears

"Luke..." Percy shudders, This Luke guy and his friend were arguing, something about gambling, wait no- that's a metaphor for taking a risk

"it will pay off!" Luke yells "They'll take the bait... Now let's check in the casket"

Tyson whimpered "Leave now?"

Silence...

"please..." He muttered after

The remaining three of you came to an agreement, Percy looked eager and Annabeth looked worried

You sigh "We can't, if this guy is talking about something that relates to camp or something worse, we have to find out"

And if possible beat the shit out of him and drag him back to camp to explain

Annabeth volunteered to go alone, saying she had a camp that turned her invisible so it'd be fine, it was met with both you and Percy objecting and saying everyone will go or no one will

"I vote no one goes! Pretty please?" Tyson pleaded, and it ended with three kids crawling and walking like spies with a big cyclops nervously chewing his fingernails trotting behind

Someone opens the door for Luke and the monster, not another monster... A demigod!

"that's Chris Rodriguez! From the Hermes cabin!?" You exclaim and then you clasp your hands to your mouth after realizing you were too loud

Annabeth looked heartbroken "there are more traitors...?"

______________________________

A certain king of Atlantis is sat across Bruce, the looming presence between the two, but there is a sense of respect shared

"As a father myself I feel like you should know something" Aquaman sighs

The blonde haired king reminisces the feeling of losing a child, his baby was abducted by someone he trusted and he got his little boy back at the end, it was a dreadful feeling

The feeling that no matter how many good you'll do next, the person you wanted it to be for won't be here to benefit, "Diana was mistaken, Your child was spotted by one of my merguards on the sea, they're alive and I thought you should know-"

"Where?! Where is my kid right now?" Bruce had jumped from the table to shake Aquaman's shoulders

"they are at sea on a ship... And I'm afraid they might be in danger, as the ship is heading for the sea of monsters- or what you humans call the Bermuda triangle, and I can't stop it-"

"Why not!? Aren't you the king of the ocean!??"

"Calm down, I am the king of Atlantis, not the sea nor the ocean, do not mistake me for my emperor, Lord Poseidon"

Bruce takes a deep breath, "Why is my baby there?, how can I get them?"

"I believe your child is on a quest, a quest given by the gods, mortals cannot interfere, you only have to wait for it to be over, there is also a chance they may not get out of the quest alive, Bruce... Don't try anything" Aquaman tries to warn

"I'm not letting my child stay in a place called the sea of monsters, I'll find them" he says

The king looks at him with sadness "Unfortunately you cannot find the sea of monsters, it finds you, it doesn't matter if you search the whole ocean, if the sea does not want you finding it, you won't, you are gonna have to trust your child that they have the means to survive this"

Silence took over, then a gentle heartbroken voice appeared "you just told me my baby is alive, and if they die again, I don't know how I'll pull through this time"

"I'm so sorry Bruce, I'll take my leave"

______________________________

"We are SO gonna die here" you whisper in Percy's ear

Annabeth shifts as to the four of you tiptoe into the Captain's door, that's when you hear them, muffled sounds, you push your ear through the door

Luke talking about a casket and a golden fleece, the fleece you guys are looking for! What will Luke use it on?

"I can't hear anything!" Percy frustratingly says, Tyson pushes his ear through the door and speaks, he speaks in Luke's voice

"—the prophecies ourselves, those fools won't know which way to turn" Tyson says

He copied Luke's voice... You forgot cyclops can do that, how... Creepy.

Nevermind the visible uncomfortable tension that Tyson veiled on the you, Percy and for some reason especially Annabeth, Tyson continues to mimic voice, this time a deeper gruffer voice "you really think the old horseman is gone for good?"

You gasp, they are talking about Chiron, then Tyson laughed, it was Luke's laugh "They can't trust him anymore, not with the skeletons in his closet, the poisoning of Thalia's tree was the last straw"

Annabeth shivered, then she yelled "Tyson stop! That's creepy!", Tyson shrunk "I was just listening"

"keep listening" Percy says

Tyson closed his eyes again "—Quiet! I heard something, just outside the door" and before I could tell everyone to hide

Luke opened the door and saw us

A cyclops, a child of Aphrodite, Athena and Poseidon

"Percy! Anne! Long time no see... Who are these two?" Luke gestures to me and Tyson

Fuck.

______________________________

Bruce: I hope my baby is strong enough to complete their quest so we can reunite

(Name): I am so going to die here

@yunloyal @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @spqce-bun @casspen-starlight @eyeless-kun @ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar @sheep-from-rad

[rosenclaws]

Erased || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You are a powerful mutant with powers you hated. They ruined your life and it led you down paths you weren't proud of. Things changed and now you lived happily with Logan. Until your past seems to come back to ruin everything

warnings: angst. traumatic childhood, brief mentions of torture.

wc: 2.7k

Link to part 2

a/n: Hi guys, so this is kind of the you get hurt and he goes feral fic but i've combined it with this other wip i had laying around. I talked a lot about wanting more angst and tw death (my grandmother passed last night) so ive been in this weird state of sadness that i'm repressing. Either way i wrote a fic so there's that lol. I will def have a part 2 btw so don't worry.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you can remember your childhood. What it was like before your, gift, appeared and ruined everything. How your family loved you, how your friends welcomed you, how the world didn’t hate you. Everything was perfect.

Until the day it appeared. All you did was touch her arm. That’s all you did. An argument with your mother, silence, and then you touched her arm to try and apologize and next thing you knew she was asking who you were. Yelling at you to get out of her house. You cried not understanding what was happening.

She looked at you with nothing but confusion. Not even a hint of recognition. Then your father came home and you ran into his arms. Afraid and distraught when he pushed you off him. The same look in his eyes. Who are you? They threw you out, threatened to call the cops. They left you all alone, afraid, and confused.

It didn’t take long for you to understand. A mutant. You had heard of mutants but never thought you could be one. A mutant with a powerful ability. Memory manipulation. You could alter memories, dive into someone's deepest fears, their secrets, and even erase anything from heads. In a single moment their whole lives could be changed. It was a dangerous power and you wanted nothing to do with it.

For years you lived on the road. Keeping yourself moving, stealing when you needed to. Never getting too attached to one place, to anyone. You were alone.

Then one day some people found you. Dressed in stupid costumes. Still they took you in. Gave you a home, fed you, trained you. You grew up there. From teen to adult. Charles was kind and you don't think you could ever repay him for all that he's done. Your powers were strong but he taught you to control your emotions.

Still you tried to stay a safe distance away from people. Not just physically but emotionally. The nightmares of your parents haunt you everyday. They're nice. All of them are. The kids loved you and you enjoyed the mansion.

Still when the team invited you out you declined, when the kids wanted to crowd you during dinner you politely excused yourself to your office. You didn't go to parties, you didn't celebrate the holidays with them. You were just you, a nice, safe distance away from them. Then your world got flipped upside down.

The day Logan rolled into the mansion. He was mean and angry. He had that "I don't like being around people" kind of vibe but he stuck around. Ended up becoming more apart of the team than he wanted. And he liked it.

Logan was the first one to really break down your walls. Just like everyone else you stayed away from him. Smiling and greeting him but never going past that. Maybe that's what drew him to you. You were a mystery who smelled like vanilla. It was your perfume. He would try to flirt but he got nowhere. Eventually he gave up the flirting but his interest stayed. He find ways to talk to you, getting bits and pieces of information from you.

You quickly learned he was just like you in some ways. Guarded, a past life that you don't want to talk about, loners. Somehow in all of it, as he stayed at the mansion and grew to become part of this family, he wormed his way into your heart too. Just too loners who found out that being alone together is better than being lonely.

As time passed, your relationship with Logan evolved into something you never imagined you would experience. Love. You never let yourself feel this way, too afraid that you would do the same thing to them. That you would get close, build this connection, make these memories, only for it all to come crashing down with just a single touch. These memories are precious to you. Every single one of them.

You remember the day your feelings were revealed. Both of you desperate, afraid of what they meant, but neither of you could lose each other. It was the cure. Some company had found a way to suppress the gene. The moment you heard about it you were intrigued. Your mutation wasn't fun. It didn't let you control the weather or turn things to ice. You couldn't touch people. Just like rouge you were at risk for destroying someone's whole life.

Even with the years of lessons you weren't fully in control. You never let yourself try. Logan could see it in your eyes. The confrontation wasn't pretty.

It was anger at first, wondering how you could even consider that. Then it was anger from you, years of pent up feelings releasing all at once. The fighting turned into a deep confession. An intimate moment between the two of you. He cared for you in a way that scared the shit out of him. He couldn't say the words yet but he felt them. You felt the same way but just like Logan. Something was holding you back from saying those three words.

Still you showed your love to each other in other ways. You always let him know how much you cared for him. The words died on your tongue but he knew. You hope he did.

Logan bought you a necklace. Didn't make a big deal of it but you could see the blush on his face. Tossing you the box and mumbling something about him seeing it and thinking of you. It was gorgeous. Just a simple heart necklace with two sparkling stones. One for him and one for you.

Even if you couldn't touch he wanted apart of him to be with you. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. You had Logan. You had the team, the mansion. For once you felt like your life was falling into place.

Apparently the universe didn't like that. Charles had called the team in for an important mission. You weren't on the team due to your own choosing so when Logan came back to bed he started to talk.

"Yeah some rogue mutants. Bunch of assholes who enjoy torturing humans." He grumbled as he threw his jacket on. Fixing his hair in the mirror as you sit on the bed. You're doing everything you can to stay calm, to not set off Logan's super senses.

"Some guy named Mack is their leader. Guess he's got some illusion powers or something." Logan says it all like its nothing. To him it is nothing. Just another mission. To you though, it's the beginning of the end.

"Don't know who in their right mind would do shit like that. Just a bunch of low life idiots." He spits. You wince at his harsh tone. He notices your silence and glances over at you. You're practically frozen in place. An unreadable look in your eyes.

"You alright?" Logan moves to touch your arm but you jerk it away.

"Yeah sorry, just had another nightmare last night." You lie. Logan looks at you strangely before sitting on the bed. His hand intertwining with your gloved one.

"Though I told you to wake me up." You snort and roll your eyes playfully. "And I told you the same thing." You counter. He smirks, you have him there. Part of why you go so well together.

"I'll wake you next time, I promise." There's a loud knock at the door and Logan grumbles.

"Promised some dumb kids I'd take them to the mall. Storm promised me a six pack of beer." After saying goodbye you let your smile fall.

This couldn't be happening. You thought you were finally safe, this was years ago. How could they still be around. Before Charles had found you, you were involved with this group. You weren't proud if it but you were hungry and afraid and they found you. Mutants just like you. They weren't afraid of you. In fact they were in awe of you, something you had never felt before.

You fell into their group, participating in the horrible things they'd do. You never did anything yourself. You were clean up crew. Wiping memories of anyone who saw something they weren't supposed to. Still, you enabled it all. When you finally left, it wasn't easy. You had tried to erase their memories but for some reason they could block you. You got away but they swore one day they'd come back for you. You were one of them forever now. No one would understand, no one would forgive you. You were a monster just like them.

Your mind runs a mile a minute. Thinking of everyone in the mansion. The team. Storm, Jean, Scott, Rouge...everyone.

Logan, oh god Logan.

Would he understand? He would have to. He's just like you. He did things in his past. He was violent, angry, a survivor. He never claimed to be a hero. But that doubt swirls in your mind. Fear overtakes any rational thought. You know what you have to do.

This was your fight, not theirs. You could stop them, you needed to finish what you started. Grabbing your wrinkled old backpack you stuff clothes, money, and any essentials inside of it. You had to move quick before any of the mind readers got a hint of what you were thinking.

Especially Charles. You barely had time to think about this but the fear was creeping into your mind. Poisoning it. It's better this way. It's safer this way. They've done so much for you that you owe it to them to help. You're protecting them. All of them. Logan included.

You held on tightly to the necklace he had given you. Tucking it in your shirt as you leave the room. You smiled as you walked through the halls. Saying hello to those who passed by. By the time you were at the front doors you felt a pull to keep you here.

Deep down you didn't want to leave. Of course you didn't. But you overcome the pull and walk through the doors. Refusing to look back as the mansion grows smaller in the distance. You walked for hours. Your feet aching as you finally reached some rinky dink motel. The room is depressing but for now it's home. Curling up on the bed you bury your face in the pillow.

Your heart longing for Logan. You're scared, so scared. A part of you wants to go back and find him. Tell him everything and ask for help. But then you remember what he said. How would he react knowing that you were one of them? Would he forgive you or would he turn his back on you just like Mack always said?

You barely get a moment to think before there's a loud knock at the door. Hand slamming impatiently against it. You quietly get up and look through the peephole. You cover your mouth to hide your shocked gasp. Logan. How the hell did he find you?

"I know you're in there." Oh he's angry. You open the door and Logan steps through.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" His voice booms through the room.

"I come home to a ransacked room, I thought you were in danger. Only to be told that you ran away." He growls. He's clenching his fists tightly. How could you do this to him?

"How did you find me?" You demand as you slowly sink back towards your bag.

"Why did you leave? What's going on!" Logan is confused, lashing out on you because he just doesn't understand. Things were going great. You loved him and he loved you so why would you just run away. Away from the mansion, away from him. Did you not trust him anymore? Why?

"You wouldn't understand." You try to move past him but he grabs your shoulders and pressing you against the wall.

His claws coming out to pin you to it. The sharp adamantium knicks the chain around your neck, breaking it in two. The necklace falls to the ground but neither of you notice.

"Try me." The anger is slowly fading as he silently begs you to talk. To let him in.

"I'm sorry Logan, but I can't."

"Why not? What are you running from? I can help. Let me help." He begs. Please don't leave him. Please. He can do something. He can heal like crazy, he can track, he's fast, he's got fucking metal claws. He can help.

"You can't help me with this Logan. This is for your own good." You try to stay strong but looking into those gorgeous eyes of his was about to make you break.

"This is my fight and mine alone." He scoffs and lets go of you and starts to pace.

"Bullshit. This is our fight now. That's the deal. I lo-" He sighs and pulls you close. "Its you and me. Together." You gently trace his jaw with your gloved hands.

Tears glossing over your eyes as it takes everything in power to stay strong. To not fall into his arms. He's protected himself his whole life and you can't be the one to put him in more danger. He's a hero, he's your hero but tonight he's the love of your life and you need to protect him. Even if it feels like ripping out your own heart.

"Logan..." You say softly. He looks at you with those pretty eyes and you cup his face.

Slowly your lips brush against his. It's just a hint at first. Then it's everything at once. He smashes his lips to yours. Kissing you with a passion and need that you've dreamed off. This is your first kiss after all. It's everything you ever wanted. To feel his lips on yours. Skin to skin. You'll treasure this moment forever.

He's so wrapped up in the kiss that he doesn't notice you take your hand away. Taking off your gloves and move your hands to the side of his head. Hovering over his temples. He pulls away, breathing heavily as he leans in and kisses you again.

"I love you Logan, I love you so much." You say with tears falling down your cheeks. He realizes too late, a flash of fear as you press your hands to his face.

"No!" He roars but its too late.

Like he's in a trance he stands there. You cry as you erase every memory he has of you. He won't remember you, he won't know why he's here or how he got here. You know that you won't have long before someone else finds you and you'll erase their memory too. It's for the best. It's for his own good. His eyes flutter close as he falls to the floor. You catch his head, lowering him gently to the ground. A pillow placed under it. You can't stay, he'll wake any moment. But you have a few seconds. You lean down and place a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you Logan Howlett." You whisper gently.

You take one last look at him before grabbing your bag and running out the door. Each step apart from him is like a knife in your chest. You tell yourself this what needed to happen. You'd rather lose Logan like this than watching him suffer because of you. This way he can be happy, he can move on.

You did this for him. All of it for him.

-

Logan wakes to a pounding in his head. Confusion washes over him as he takes in his surroundings. Where the fuck is he? He doesn't remember how he got here, why he came here. He stands up and looks around the room.

"What the hell?" He mumbles to himself.

Was this a prank or something? He cracks his neck and looks around. The room is mostly empty but a small glimmer catches his eyes. He walks over and sees six holes in the wall that match his claws.

Leaning down he picks up a necklace. A heart with two stones. He winces as a sharp pain shoots through his head. He stands up and slips the necklace in his pocket, something telling him to keep it close. He feels a pain in his chest. Not physical pain but something else. Maybe he finally got drunk. Drank enough to finally fuck him up.

All he knows is that he needs to get back to the mansion. As he leaves stops for a second. He shakes his head and continues on, hopping back on his motorcycle. For a second there he swears he caught a whiff of vanilla.

Must be his imagination.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…