#Song based fic

[countlessimagines]

Romantic Homicide [PART ONE][ Miguel O’Hara x Reader ]

Summary: You slowly slip from Miguel’s hands, and it’s too late for him to realize.

A/N: Wanted to desperately make something angsty for Miguel and this song was the perfect choice!

Warnings: None that I can think of.

PART TWO HERE

SONG BASED FIC: ROMANTIC HOMICIDE BY D4VD

-

I'm scared

Miguel O’Hara was not the man you knew anymore. When he first arrived to your dimension, he found love with you, but he never would have admitted it if asked about it. He found a sense of peace and clarity just being with you and having you to hold. You were one of the first recruits that he brought on.

You were the shining star to Miguel’s dark world. He had never intended to get close to someone, after seeing how many spider men lost their true loves. He didn’t want to experience that pain, he felt foolish and naive for falling for you. He loved the way you both would swing next to each other, almost like a choreographed dance.

He was a very passionate person, but there was also the side of him that was cold and distant. At first, that side never came to light. It was amazing recruiting others and taking on the fight together.

Everything had been good… until it was not. Miguel had been messing with another dimension without you knowing, and it was one where he found out that you and him had a child that was orphaned. He thought he could manage being with you and going to the dimension to be with your daughter.

He had been so happy spending time with your daughter who was oblivious to losing both her parents. And he wanted to introduce you to your daughter, but feared you might see it as insane and wrong.

So he kept it a secret for the time being. But Miguel could not handle both dimensions - both lives, and eventually it caught up with him.

He lost your daughter and never told you anything about the double life he led behind your back.

It feels like you don't care

You had felt the change in Miguel. Instead of the open minded, excited-to-save-the-multiverse Miguel, you got the cold and distant lover.

He never intended to hurt you, but he never considered your emotions and what the toll of having to fight so many villains falling out of their dimensions can take on you. You were his accomplice, the person he could count on for everything and would drop anything to help out.

You were strong, but seeing the person who would kiss you so deeply it would make you feel as if nothing else mattered… seeing him slowly become irritable as if the weight of the multiverse was not on both of your shoulders.

Enlighten me, my dear

Why am I still here?

You began to grow frustrated when Miguel refused to join you for a simple meal and got angry at you for trying to make him leave his computers. He stopped showing signs of love and genuine affection to you. The days of sleeping in and messing with Miguel’s bed head, making out upside down on the ceiling, saving universes together were long gone.

At a certain point, you would only stay at the spider complex, helping out new recruits while Miguel would opt to take Jessica instead of you on missions.

You would bite your tongue and resume your duties as to not poke the bear.

I don't mean to be complacent with the decisions you made

But why?

Peter B. Parker was your favorite spider-man simply because he would always bring your favorite food made by Mary Jane and let you hold Mayday. He was your best friend, and the only person who would probably understand the pain Miguel was putting you through.

You had confessed to him the feelings you had bottled up, and he was confused as to where it all came from as Miguel never wanted your intimate relationship known to everyone else in fear of you being hurt.

It pained you to know Miguel wanted to keep you a secret, like you were some villainous person that could easily be taken back to their dimension in an instant. Like you were replaceable… and the thought nagged at you… had Miguel found another you?

Peter expressed that Miguel never even mentioned having a loved one, that he wanted no form of attachment after watching his daughter die in his hands.

You had not even known about his daughter, so the mere thought of him purposefully keeping this a secret made you feel worse. A daughter? Why did he never trust me to know about his daughter? Why did he never feel comfortable telling me?

You began to even question why you still stayed, if it was worth the stress and mental drain to be near Miguel - knowing he was keeping not only you a secret, but possibly more.

Mm. In the back of my mind, You died

And I didn't even cry. No, not a single tear

You watched as the man you loved slowly descended into madness, an obsession to be precise and catch anything and everything that was wrong. It began to feel like he never even slept anymore. He was a shell of a person, day in and day out. Staring at monitors, asking Lyla for help, and then leaving for some type of mission.

It was a horrible cycle that repeated in front of you.

Every time you tried to talk to him about how he was doing or what you could do to help, he brushed you aside and barely even looked at you.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, but you would always turn away, tears ready to fall. You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he kept you a secret for a reason… maybe, just maybe there was some type of reason he was acting this way with you.

But eventually you had cried enough over the man who no longer seemed to be the one who would call you his love, and the tears stopped.

And I'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive

You held our hope one last time, you invited Miguel to a dinner in your dimension. You set up your dining room with candles, delicious food, drinks, and a present containing the one single photo you had of the two of you.

But he never showed up. Lyla had sent a message to you telling you he got wrapped up in a mission and couldn’t make it. She seemed apologetic as she delivered the news, and she could tell you wanted to be alone.

You only said “okay” to her before ending the call, standing up, and dumping the present in the trash bin. You left your dining room and collapsed on your cold, unmade bed from when you had last left to be with Miguel.

In the back of my mind

I killed you

The next day, you heard absolutely nothing from everyone. Radio silence. You wondered if Miguel even knew if you were gone.

You stared at your watch that could take you to other universes, take you to Miguel. It was taunting you… a watch to see him but at a certain point, what cost did it come with?

You spent so much time going back and forth for him to not care at all. He was keeping your love hidden away in a room, for no one else to see. And at a certain point, he had forgotten about the room.

Finally, you had enough and no longer wished to have any type of temptation to go running back to him. There was no reason to go back.

You grabbed your hammer and began to repeatedly smash the watch into a million little pieces. Watching it crumble and break in front of you, made all the built up tears come back like a dam breaking open.

You screamed as tears poured, your heart breaking even more and feeling as if it could no longer take the hits.

And I didn't even even regret it

I can't believe I said it

You felt relieved to see the watch gone, to see the life with Miguel start to slip away, in the past.

But a part of you broke with the watch. The time spent with him felt wasted. You neglected your dimension for him and your duties as a spider-woman.

You felt angry that Miguel came into your life in the first place. That he was able to steal your heart and time and everything that made you happy was because of him.

You hated that he made you feel the way he did.

But it's true

I hate you

Months went on, no one dared to contact you in fear of Miguel finding out. He had been angry when he found out you had left, but he knew deep inside of himself that he was the reason why.

He forbid anyone to speak to you, though, because he feared you would make light of your relationship and how he let you slip away. He feared everyone would look at him as a weak, lonely, harsh leader. When he needed to remain steadfast.

You had returned to your normal way of life, learning to love yourself and help out those in need. While it was tame compared to multidimensional travel, it felt better for your soul.

However, one day after having such a long night trying to take down men who put targets on your back, you were wiping dirt and blood off your mask. In the corner of your eye, you could see a portal start to form in your living room. You were quick to put on your mask, readying yourself for it to be anyone.

But to your surprise, the most surprising person stepped through the large portal.

Hobie Brown.

-

Read part two here.

[moonstruck-poet]

Rewrite The Stars

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader

Summary - The story of how you two manage to unravel the complexities that concern a relationship based on the song 'Rewrite The Stars'

Hope you'll enjoy it!!!

You know I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide. You know you want me, so don't keep saying our hands are tied.

Kaz Brekker, you muttered under your breath and kicked a small stone with as much strength as you could muster, ignoring the sharp pain that followed.

He really was impossible that one. Tested your patience to such a level that you were almost considering giving up.

Almost.

But you weren't known as the never giving up person for nothing. You would try to make him see sense.

You halted in your path towards the Crow Club to analyse your thoughts which were a hundred percent occupied by that young boy whom everyone called Dirtyhands.

He had you completely charmed, as could be observed since he was the one running rent free through your mind at all times when you weren't risking your life for the same man.

So taking a deep breath and resting your hand on your holster, you entered your home with a poker face and scanned everything to see that all was going on smoothly.

"All good here?" You questioned Rotty and downed a shot of whiskey, scrunching your nose at the bitter after taste.

"Everything under control ma'am, got a lotta good pigeons," he grinned and your lips twitched sideways.

"What's up, Jes?" You asked the gunslinger who was sitting on one of the stools near the bar, twirling his pistol in his hand.

"Nothing, I'm bored. Need some action," he groaned and stretched upwards.

"Of course you do," you laughed softly. "Where are the others?"

"Off doing saints know what".

"Kaz still ain't budging?" He asked suddenly, his tone a little gentler.

"No," you said shortly and clenched your jaw. Suddenly not wanting to thing about him.

Jesper sighed loudly, "He is one of the most idiotic person I know. He doesn't even seem to realise he's missing out on the best thing that's happened to him".

You smiled at that, it was a small one but nevertheless a smile after all.

"If I wasn't so unbelievably enamoured by messy haired guys who are quite a shot at chemistry, I would've gone for you honestly".

"I'm flattered, Fahey".

"But seriously tho, love. What's his reason for denying you, huh?"

"Kaz thinks we're not good together," you answered abruptly.

"Not good together my ass," he rolled his eyes in utter annoyance. "You deserve so much better than him. I don't understand how you even managed to fall for him".

"Falling for him wasn't falling at all, Jes. It was like walking into a house and just knowing that you're home," you whispered.

And there he was, the hindrance to your concentration, the object of your continuous staring, Kaz Brekker.

He took off his hat, revealing his rather well defined featured that seemed to be sculpted with a help of a knife.

Your eyes took his figure in. Those all black clothes with that unmistakable cane was his entire persona that he had built for himself.

Your gaze softened at the sight of his messed up hair, the few strands that had fallen on his pale forehead making your heart skip a tiny beat.

"You really love him don't you?" You snapped from your staring at Jesper's question."I guess I do," you answered, eyes following him as he walked towards you with what you assumed to be another one of those tasks that he always gave you, just because of the amount of trust he had.

===============================

You claim it's not in the cards and fate is pulling you miles away and out of a reach from me. But you're hearing my heart so who can stop me if I decide, it's on my destiny?

"Fucking hell this idiot of a man," you groaned and ran frantically towards the mount of wounded people.

You had indeed raided one of the most well protected safe of the most dangerous person and there were bound to be major consequences.

Your heart dropped after seeing Wylan lying near a building wreckage and you sprinted despite the throbbing pain in your calf and ignoring the blood flowing down one side of your head and torso.

"Hey," you whispered, getting down to your knees and shaking the boy. "Wylan, come on. I need you, come on wake up," phrases fell from your lips absently.

And he did wake up and you felt as though your feet were back again on solid ground. He woke up, immediately clutching his head and looked around, eyes squinting. "Where are the others?" he said hoarsely.

"Everybody is fine, everyone except for Kaz and we're all looking for him," you murmured, the relief fading away for panic to seize control of your weak heart again.

He immediately noticed your tensed posture and really looked at you, succeeding in reading your internal turmoil.

"Up you get," he suddenly said in an authoritative voice. "We're gonna go and find Kaz right now," he got up and held out his arm for you to grasp.

You simply stared before shaking yourself off and following his lead, glad to have someone to listen to instead of following your stupid thoughts all alone.

The fear in both you and Wylan seemed to increase tenfold after witnessing gruesome scenes all around you. But you both swallowed it harshly and kept a determined spirit, him more than you actually.

Because naturally your heart always seemed to lose its stone cold interior upon the mention of a specific someone.

"Saints," Wylan suddenly came to an abrupt halt and his eyes widened as he pointed to the shed of a shop that was almost on the verge on collapsing entirely. And underneath all of that rubble was Kaz.

"Oh god," was all that escaped your lips and you didn't think before running towards him, not even noticing a large chunk of the ceiling falling om your shoulder.

"Kaz," you said, leaning down in front of him. Your throat burned at his terrible state. His hair completely dishevelled, numerous cuts and blood stains littering his body, eyes half closed as he gazed ahead endlessly.

"Kaz!" You said again and Wylan softly patted his shoulder, accidentally touching his bare skin where the shirt was torn and in the process jolting awake the unconscious boy.

"Good gracious," you prayed and stepped back after seeing the anxiety on his face. "Kaz you have to let me, or you're going to die you bastard," you frowned but waited and turned towards Wylan, "Will you go and tell the others that we've found him? They'll be there at our decided headquarters, just inform them quickly please and get Nina as soon as you can," you instructed and he set off instantly.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and clenched your jaw hard before moving closer and putting one hand behind his shoulders, your heart shattering a little at his sharp intake of breath. "I'm so sorry but I have to do this," you said with a rather broken voice and picked him up.

Halfway through the route he let out a loud groan and you almost dropped him but then steadied yourself and halted.

"What's wrong, Kaz?"

His eyes were scrunched up in pain and it was then that you noticed the bullet which was wedged on the side of his chest and you froze at the sight.

"No no no," your muscles seemed rooted to the spot and the only thought runnung through your mind was that he was going to die. Kaz Brekker was going to die.

"Shit," you muttered and hastened your pace, struggling slightly under the weight of his rather heavy body but you did manage to reach the secret meeting place just in time.

"NINA!" You yelled and placed him on the nearest couch. "NINA!"

She was out in a second, all others following close behind and breathing in sharply at the sight of their leader beaten up so badly.

"Th- There's a bullet through his s- side," you said, panting as suddenly there was a lack of oxygen in the air. "There's a bullet Nina! Quick come on you gotta get it out. You have t- to get it out, quick!"

"Wylan," Nina gestured with her eyes and he understood, gently taking you by the shoulders and pulling you away.

"No! What're you doing?! Wylan stop it!"

"He's going to be okay, let me clean up your wounds too".

"I'm fine! But he's not! He needs me okay? I- I can't leave him lying there like that! I can't- I can't-" you broke off and gulped. Your eyes tearing up as you let yourself be pulled away from him.

But tell me, how is one supposed to survive when their lifeline itself is im danger?

You were sitting in one of the rooms all alone, looking out of the window absentmindedly. Wylan had graciously cleaned and bandaged all your injuries amd you didn't even have the heart to say a simple thanks to him.

Inej had dropped by a few minutes ago with a small plate of food and you hadn't bothered to appreciate her with a small nod.

All that rang through your mind was Nina's conversation with Matthias that you had accidentally overheard.

"There were not one but two bullets, Matthias. And they were the poisonous kind, the ones that work on paralysing and slowly killing the body of the victim. He's taken quite a hit that one".

He's taken quite a hit that one...

A lump welled up in your throat as you mulled over every incident when you were on the brink of losing him forever.

Once when you two were fourteen, once when you were sixteen and now at the very tender age of seventeen, Kaz was slipping through your grasp again.

Fate was constantly pulling you apart, making you go as far as possible from each other but it had been enough now, you simply couldn't handle it.

You swallowed down the burning sensation and went quietly towards the room where Kaz was fighting for his life. Your breath got caught upon seeing his rather peaceful face. No furrowed eyebrows, not a crease on his forehead, he seemed very much at ease.

You took a seat next to him, tears on the verge of falling but you blinked then away stubbornly. You weren't one to cry that easily, but control seemed to jump out of the window whenever he was involved.

"Kaz," you whispered as though he would open his eyes that very second and you would be met with dark brown irises that you so loved.

"Here we are again huh," you murmured and heaved a deep sigh. "Its been what 3 times now that we were in this same scenario?"

You kept on making small talks, it beimg useless towards him but actually helping you to get over your emotions.

"You don't understand the way my heart breaks when you get hurt this badly, Brekker," you said softly. "I've tried to tell you so many times but you're one stubborn asshole aren't you?"

You exhaled and your eyes gazed at his beautiful features, from his sharp eyebrows, to long eyelashes and then to his perfect lips.

"You have to wake up, Kaz. You will," you said firmly. "I don't think I can function properly without you," you looked down at your hands.

"Get well soon, love," you whispered the words and despite being unconscious, rhey ringed in Kaz's ears. Love, you had called him. He felt something brush against his forehead, pushing away strands of hair and tickling him a little.

But then the warm feeling was gone and once again he was alone, cold, and empty.

===============================

What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart, you'll be the one I was meant to find. It's up to you, and it's up to me, no one could say what we get to be. So why don't we rewrite the stars? And maybe the world could be ours, tonight.

"Saints this is all so ridiculous," Jesper muttered and frowned deeply at the comedic costume that he was supposed to wear. "Couldn't you have gotten something better?"

"You either have the choice to wear it or run around naked, I don't care. All I want is a proper distraction. The choice is yours," Kaz said easily and went back to scrutinising the map placed on the table.

Jesper rolled his eyes but wore the clothes anyways and you snorted making him give you a sharp glare.

"I'll shoot you, I swear," he threatened weakly when you fully cackled. "It's not fair that you get to dress up like a literal princess when I'm here looking equivalent to a clown!"

"I'm afraid you won't make a very pretty princess Jes," Inej smiled as she sharpened her knives with without even looking at them.

"Oh I don't, Inej. He might make a wonderful, lovely girl," Nina piped in and you laughed.

"Enough chatting please," Kaz interrupted your lighthearted teasing making the Heartrender scowl.

"You always have to interrupt the best moments between us don't you?" She glared but the man didn't as much give a shit.

"Wylan you're ready with your explosives? Confident they'll go off exactly when we want them to?" He asked and received a confirming nod.

"We'll leave in about five minutes exactly," he checked his watch and scanned all of the faces staring at his intently. "Off you go then. I want absolutely no detours from anyone, I'm talking especially to you, Jesper," he narrowed his stare to the Zemeni who merely shrugged and grinned.

"Goodluck everybody," he said and they all left for their respective work. "Let's go," he said to you and you got up, instantly feeling uncomfortable in the rather beautiful dress and the heels.

This was new and uncharted territory, something you had never even worn before in your entire life. But you liked it. It didn't match your usual attire at all, but a change at times was welcomed on your part.

You two were invited, or rather you had invited yourselves to the ball that was supposed to take place. It was the perfect opportunity to infiltrate and steal.

"Remember all we have to do is stay for the entire program, we cannot afford any mishaps to happen. No tiny slipups at all or the entire plan goes down the drains," Kaz said as you slowly walked to the venue.

"I know Kaz," you sighed at his nagging. "You can trust me, you know?"

"I know," he said lowly and looked straight up, refusing to make eye contact.

Your eyes flitted to look at his side profile. It was sharp, the streetlights highlighting his carved features and your heart started running at an unbelievable speed.

He had for once ditched his long coat and had instead worn an all black suit with a black tie. And saints did he look amazing. Kaz Brekker seemed to have no idea at just how unsettled and in love you were.

Just as you were about to enter the grand hall, he stopped you and offered his arm. He was also not wearing his gloves, wanting to stay off suspicion as much as possible.

"You sure? We don't have to do this," you said softly but he insisted and you hesitatingly wrapped your fingers around his elbow.

Kaz didn't as such flinch from your touch, which just proved that he did trust you a lot.

"Ah there you are! Mr and Mrs Helvar am I right?" An elderly man beamed at you two and Kaz instantly transformed into a complete stranger in mere seconds.

"Absolutely!" He smiled widely, his lips stretching in an unfamiliar way and you almost cringed at how fake it looked, but that was only because you knew him.

"Alright alright that's enough," you whispered after the host went away to greet someone else. "Please bring back the Kaz I know".

He rolled his eyes and returned to his cool demeanour. You were lounging near the bar, sipping drinks to pass time while also maintaining a strict checking of the area.

"How much longer do we have to stay?" You asked after about an hour.

"The party's only just began. It'll take time I think," he answered and looked around.

"These heels are killing me," you groaned. "I need my shoes back".

He didn't say anything but his jaw had clenched, as it always did when he felt a little helpless and unsure. He glanced at your feet before returning his gaze back to the ballroom.

"Saints he's here again," you said suddenly and he turned to see the same man walking towards you two once again.

"You've been sitting for quite a time now! Come on then let's get you on your feet. Don't keep such a beautiful lady waiting, Mr Helvar," he grinned cheekily, eyes clearly trailing down your body.

"I'll make sure," Kaz answered rather tightly, stepping in between his line of sight and blocking you from his filthy eyes. He looked at you and held out his hand, you stopped for a tiny second before placing your bare palm into his cold one.

He inhaled sharply but at the same time gently pulled you towards the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on the host who seemed to be watching your every move.

"He's just wrote himself a death wish," your fake husband grumbled in annoyance which soon turned into a forced smile after waving at someone.

"Loosen up now, we have to dance," you said and were surprised immensely when his fingers intertwined with yours and his other palm was slowly making its way to be placed on your waist.

He glanced in your eyes and all you offered was a gorgeous smile. That seemed to be all that was required and the tips of his fingers brushed your waist before halting there.

Your free hand was on his shoulder and you two swayed, your bodies closer than ever before. And you thought to youself, you could definitely get used to this.

Not the elegant gown or the grand party, not at all. But these small but significant moments of intimacy with him.

"This is nice," your small whisper broke the silence as you danced, engaged in your own little rhythm. Too occupied with each other to even pay the slightest attention elsewhere.

"It is," he nodded and this time made eye contact without hesitation. The force was so strong and powerful that you couldn't feel anything except for the rapid thumping of your heart.

Everybody else seemed to fade as you two danced the moment away, completely taken by each other as you swayed. And you thought, it wasn't so bad was it.

And Kaz gave you a look which seemed to answer your question, it was as if he had clearly read your mind.

It's not so bad, his eyes reflected and you couldn't stop the small smile which soon fell off after another question had plagued your mind.

'Then why? Why can't we give this a shot? Give us a shot?'

"It's always up to us you know," you murmured suddenly, not bothering to elaborate because you knew he understood it well enough.

"Nobody has a damn say in what the hell we do with our lives. It's always up to you and me," you repeated and smiled tightly.

While he just stared at your face, taking notice of the way your heart was literally shattering in front of him. And all he wanted was to tell you that he loved you too, had been loving you since ages.

But you already knew that, you weren't oblivious for saint's sake. You knew he had fallen as hard for you as you had for him. His problem was that he refused to accept it, for god knows what reason.

===============================

Ahem ahem... do we need a part 2?

Preferably from Mr Brekker's pov? 👀

[insanityandstars]

After that fateful night, it's a shock either of them survived.

Billy played dead, but god fucking damn, did he want to follow that pathetic trope. And god fucking damn did he want to slaughter those fucking idiots.

He pulled the TV from Stu - a fucking miracle, honestly - hauling the lanky tossers body to his, stole his dad car and drove a town over. He checked the two in with false names, once Stu seemingly got to a point of stability, he wheeled the fucker out of there, neck brace, bandages and all. They camped out at Stu's parents cabins in the woods linking between the two towns until Billy dips.

"fuck this. Fuck you."

To anyone else that would be a sign of hatred, to Stu it was almost as romantic as a marriage proposal. As Billy rambled on, 'fuck this, fuck that.. blahblahblah' - Stu knew what he meant, that he was actually, finally, breaking down - like.. not in his way, in the average way..he knew he meant the complete fucking opposite

Billy left that night, Stu matched that a few days later. They don't see eachother for a good while, not for atleast two decades, the two are different - almost don't recognise eachother, they both silently wish they hadn't. As they sit under that bridge, watching the stars like they did as teens, they kiss, it soon turning aggressive, the two ending up with sore lips. But it wasn't the same, it never could be, never would be. The sparks weren't gone but both of them had buried the ideas so far down, pushed them away so brutally that it falsified the feeling of.. discontent with eachother. It just wasn't like the old days anymore.

I know this is so random and shitty but it's late, I just finished up on long ass homework and I have brain rot rn man, so this'll have to do

[spectra-bear]

Sometimes something simple could be really special, after all.

[lnfours]

everything | l.n

summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

masterlist | inbox | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.

you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.

and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.

so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.

you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”

you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”

his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.

and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.

the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?

he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”

you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”

he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”

you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”

you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.

“you know you can tell me anything, right?”

not this. not now.

you nodded, “i know.”

he nodded back at you, “okay,”

you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.

you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”

you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”

“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”

best friend.

you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”

he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”

he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.

he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.

you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”

he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.

“y/n!”

you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.

“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”

you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”

he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”

he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”

“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”

“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”

“not for the same reason i want to see you!”

“you don’t know that!”

you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”

you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”

you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”

“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”

“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”

“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”

he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.

but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.

two souls intertwined. that was you and him.

“lando-“

“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“

“lan-“

“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”

the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”

he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”

he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.

he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”

you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”

he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.

and it was all because of him.

[nostalgicish]

happy (belated) birthday to @heavilycaffeinatedsblog !

[hollisxwrites]

heyy

i was wondering if u could write a percy jackson x reader ??

flowers in your hair

(percy jackson x child of apollo reader)

thank you for the request today guys! please keep requesting, i'll keep writing (lol)! thank you for all the love on "as long as i'm with you, hero"! again, please keep requesting, i'm loving doing these! see my introduction and who i write for here!

tv! percy jackson x child of apollo! reader (I think the reader remains gender neutral throughout the fic)!

i do not own this gif or the song!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mr. d is kinda an asshole, kinda a mention of violence, a few swear words, some slight angst and jealousy, percy is a sweetheart, a few mentions of the l word 🤯 (love), making out, possible innuendos, idk how to write warnings.

summary: based on the lumineers song flowers in your hair. percy and the reader fall in love over time spent together in camp halfblood, but they refuse to admit it in order to keep their precious friendship, until one day the reader finally cracks. this is on the longer side! sorry!

I was twelve years old when I first came to Camp Halfblood. I was scared, cold, and completely alone, running from a horrific monster that was something out of my worst nightmares. The cold pellets of rain showered over me as I ran, until suddenly, the monster wasn’t chasing me anymore, the rain stopped, and I was in the middle of a clearing, staring directly up at a house, a big, sky-blue house. It was beautiful, to say the least. Close to the house was what looked like a... volleyball court? Down the path a little, I could make out the shape of smaller houses built with Greek architecture. I was intrigued, but also frightened. Had I come across some cult? My hair was drenched and I’m sure my shirt was see-through due to the peltering rain, but when I thought about it, the rain had stopped when I got within feet of the house. Curious (and desperate for someone's help), I walked up to the door of the big blue house and knocked on it. Minutes seemed to tick by until suddenly, the door burst open and a man, about middle age, holding a set of poker cards, came to the doorway.  

“What the hell do you want kid? Can’t you see I’m busy? You know Campers aren’t allowed out past nine P.M. Now I would suggest you get back to your cabin before I kick your...” 

Suddenly, the scary man was pushed aside by an even scarier man, a man with a horse bottom-half and a man-top half. I blinked once, twice, three times, and the man was still a horse. “Mr. D! This is not one of our campers! I told you to be kind.” The horse-man said to who I guess was Mr. D. “Come on in, young one. It looks like you may be a new camper.” 

Mr. D took me into the house and gave me a change of clothes, black pants and an almost nauseating orange colored shirt that said ‘Camp Halfblood’ on it. I was still interested in finding out what this was all about, but I was even more worried about my safety. These random scary men were taking me into their house in the middle of the woods after being chased by a scary monster.  What else could go wrong? I was gestured to sit by the fireplace, and the horse-man explained everything to me. I was in disbelief. The gods of the Greek myths are real? I was only able to access this camp because I was one and I was in danger? My mother slept with a Greek god? My life, at this very moment, was altered forever. It finally made sense why my mother hated me. I was, not only, the result of her ‘dumb teenager decisions’, but I also was the result of her being with a god?  

The horse-man, who I found out was named Chiron, after explaining everything to me, took me to one of the cabins I had noticed earlier, and he told me it was Herme’s cabin, which is where I would stay until my godly parent claimed me.  

When I entered the cabin, most of the kids were asleep, because it was gods know what time of night, except two boys, one with dark curly hair and a scar running down is face who I assumed to be at least sixteen, and one with the prettiest blonde curls and green eyes that I have ever seen who seemed to be about my age. The boys were sitting on a window seat looking out to another large, Greek looking structure, discussing something that seemed to trouble the younger boy. Chiron called the two boys over, and they came to meet me. Chiron introduced the older boy as Luke Castellan, Herme’s cabin counselor, and the younger as Percy Jackson, another new camper who has only been here for a day. Percy and Luke shook my hand, and Chiron left them to help me navigate the cabin and find somewhere to sleep.  

“Nice to meet you, {reader}. It’s not every day we get a new camper, but when we do, I am always excited to meet them!” Luke Castellan said. He scared me a little, with his scar, and his height. His overall demeanor was slightly frightening, but I liked him all the same. He seemed to be welcoming and kind enough.  

I smiled at him, trying not to catch the eye of Percy, who seemed to be looking at me a lot. “Nice to meet you too.” I said in a monotone voice. I didn’t realize how tired I was until this moment. “I’m sorry, I’m so tired, getting chased down by a monster and finding out I’m some god hybrid thing that sends demons out to get me all within two hours. Where am I supposed to sleep?” 

Percy giggled. “I know how you feel. I watched my mom get killed by the minotaur last night, and here I am, not able to sleep cause of the nightmares. I should get some sleep too.” 

Luke glanced around the cabin. “I’m not sure where you’re going to sleep. All the cots are occupied, unless you want to sleep on the beanbag chairs over there.” He pointed to the pile of frumpy beanbag chairs in the corner of the cabin.  

“No, no. They can take my bed. I doubt I’m going to sleep anyways, y’know, nightmares and all.” Percy chimed in, probably noticing my disparity to sleeping on an uncomfortable looking beanbag chair.  

I shook my head. “No way. You were here before me. It’s okay, I can take the beanbags, you take your space. I hope my dad claims me before too long, so I can take a couple nights.”  

“I’m not letting you; you look too tired.” Percy said, in a voice that sounded almost threatening. “We can switch out if we’re both here for a while. I mean...if you want to.”  

I smiled at the boy. He seemed kinder than anyone else I knew, even though that wasn’t saying much. I didn’t know many people. I did take Percy’s bed that night, and that developed our friendship that would eventually become the most invaluable thing in my life. I sat with Percy at every meal, he showed me around the camp to the best of his ability, and we decided to train together, as we were both new outcasts to the camp. Even after he was chosen to go to the Poseidon cabin through the game capture the flag, and I was chosen by father to go to the Apollo cabin, our bond only grew closer, and we still managed to find time in our busy schedules to spend time with each other. 

One day, several months later, in these rare moments we were both free, I was lying on the ground in the strawberry fields that became my favorite part of the camp with Percy. We had a long day of training and decided to bask in the warmth of the camp, savoring the warm late summer days. I was picking dandelions out of the strawberries and weaving them together the way I used to do with my older sister. I was slowly making a crown out the buds, and it was turning out quite beautiful. It kept my easily distracted mind focused on what Percy was saying. He was going off on some tangent about Grover and his disloyalty to the camp and to Mr. D, something that Percy found alarming, as he was worried about his best friend’s safety.  

“I’m just glad I have you, {reader}. You really have been a good...friend all these months at camp.” Percy said, grinning at me through the strawberry bushes.  

My eyes twinkled when mine met his, and I placed the now completed dandelion crown in his blond curls that drew me to him the moment we met. “I’m glad I have you too, Perc. You made me feel a little less crazy.” 

He smiled at me, the dandelion crown slipping down his face. “You’ll always be in my heart.” He blushed a little, as we are not usually this compassionate for each other. 

“So will you!” I said, moving to put the flower crown back on the crown of his head. My fingers tingled under the small touch to his face, but I didn’t realize that it was love, at the time, at least I didn’t realize it was romantic love. That’s something I know too well now.  

... 

Five years later, Percy and I have not grown farther apart with age, we’ve grown closer. He saved the world, and I was always by his side through everything. He only grew more beautiful with age, too, his hair growing a little longer, eyes getting a little darker, scars from battles littered his arms, legs, and chest. He was always attractive to me, but now, it was even more so. He had also grown more physically affectionate towards me, brushing my hands with his, leaning on my shoulder during campfires, and even going as far to giving me kisses on the cheek when I saw him first thing in the morning and late at night when we left for the day. Sometimes, he snuck into my cabin or I into his if we had nightmares just so we could be with each other. His smell of sea salt and something else I couldn’t quite name (probably the blue candy that he ate daily), and it always comforted me during hard nights.  

All of this to say, though, we were just BFFs. Best platonic bros. Nothing more, nothing less. I loved him, I had realized over the years, loved him a little too much it was unbearable sometimes, but he was rumored to be with other people all the time, even though I knew he wasn’t. He would tell me, right? Right? He spent pretty much every waking minute with me and every minute asleep most of the time, too, so I would know. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t jealous of every person he came across. I loved him, and he was my sea boy, and I was his sunshine.  

That’s why, when we found ourselves in a very similar predicament to what we did all those years ago, during our first couple months at camp, I made a very risky move. 

I was sitting, face angled up to the sunlight, weaving a dandelion crown in my trembling hands. Percy had grown, so the flower crowns I made him now were twice the size of the ones I made him all those years ago. I delicately made a pattern with the dandelions again, and I looked up at Percy from time to time to nod or make a comment on whatever he had to say, but it was mostly silent, him humming and picking at the ground below us, and me, weaving my crown. 

Percy paused his picking at the ground and looked at me. I could feel his gaze on my face, and it made my cheeks heat up. I prayed to the gods that he thought it was just from the sun. “Do you remember when we did this, what, five years ago now? I would say we’ve grown a little, and we know more than we did then.”  

“What do you know now that you didn’t then?” I said, eyes not leaving the project in my hands.  

I assumed he shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I know more about the gods, about the world, about you.” 

Laughing, I finally tore my eyes away from the completed crown and I moved to place it on Percy’s head, settling it gently in his curls, careful not to mess up my handiwork. I let my fingers linger longer on his face than I did last time. “You know more about me, sea boy?” I asked him teasingly, finally meeting his eye that hasn’t left my face this entire time. 

“I guess I do, I mean, I feel like I do. I feel like I’ve barely spent a minute away from you since that day.” He leaned into my hand that was placing feather-like touches on his face. “I mean, I know that your favorite color is yellow, you love the same music I do, and you hate when I call you sunshine.” 

“You do know me, don’t you, Perc?” My hands dropped away from his face, and he pouted at the loss of contact even though our legs were centimeters from touching. I could feel electricity buzzing on my skin where our limbs were about to meet. That was something I always felt when I was close to him.  I always assumed, back then, that his love language was physical touch, and so he was just being a good friend by how affectionate he was to me. How delusional I was. 

“I sure do.” He flipped his body so that he was no longer facing me, instead he laid himself down on my lap. My hands instinctively went to his pretty hair, making sure to be mindful of his crown. “Y’know, I think I love you, {reader}.” 

My heart, in this moment skipped a beat, but then shattered at the same time. He loved me, but in a friendly way. “You don’t mean that, Perc. At least, you don’t mean that the way I want you to.” 

His head shot up from my lap, nearly slinging his flower crown from his head, and he turned back to face me at an alarmingly quick rate. “What do you mean, the way you want me to?” His hands met mine that were laying in my lap. He interlaced our fingers, and my entire body felt alive. 

I blushed and looked back up to the boy I have loved since we were pre-teens. “I love you, Perc, but I love you, like in a romantic way. I hope it’s not too late, cause you’re so damn attractive. You have always been to me, always will be. I think I’ve just been scared. I value you so much as a friend that I didn’t want to lose you.” I refused to look up from our intertwined hands, embarrassed and saddened by my confession. I was half expecting Percy to scoff and walk away, kicking pebbles up at me.  

Instead, he unclasped our hands and pulled my face up to look at him, his eyes shining in a way that I’ve never seen them shine before, his face glowing with a humongous grin. “I never thought you’d say that. You know that I have loved you all this time, too?”  

My heart skipped several beats this time. I’m not kidding; I was about to go into cardiac arrest. “Are you kidding? You’re pranking me right now.” I hid my burning face on his shoulder.  

His laugh vibrated underneath me, making me giggle, too. “I guess we’re both idiots.” 

I hesitantly pulled my face off his shoulder and asked him the scariest question I have ever asked someone. “Can I kiss you?” 

Our faces were inches apart when he whispered, “I thought you’d never ask.” The kiss was everything I could have ever asked for. At first it was gentle and loving, our noses bumping into each other, until eventually my hands found his hair and his found my waist. It was warm, and passionate, and everything I could’ve dreamt of. 

He slowly pulled away from me, both of us panting, foreheads touching. “That was...perfect.” 

I smiled. “Just like you, sea boy.” 

His face met my neck now, and he pressed warm kisses to my exposed skin, his hair tickling my jawline. I squirmed under him, trying to suppress a groan. He lifted his head up, his eyes met mine. I thought he never had looked better. The flower crown I made him was lopsided now, diagonal across his head, his lips were red and bitten, his face was perfectly flushed, and his pupils were blown out. “How did I get so lucky?” He said to me. 

“I am asking myself the same damn thing.” I smiled, keeping eye contact with him. He connected our lips once again, and that’s when I knew I was a goner. I had been all those years ago, but we have grown a lot since then. Percy being in my eyes and in my heart all the time harbored the feeling that I have been carrying, and now I get to express. 

Years from now, I hope he still gets to be in my heart, and I in his. 

[rock-in-robins]

so like reverse robins, if done right, i love em. anything reverse robins i ever write will never have Steph become Babs. it doesn't make sense to her character for her to become oracle, would she be great at it, absolutely, but it doesn't make sense.

there's always debate on whether it should be Steph or Tim to die and more or less become Jason. my answer is that Tim get's joker jr'd and kills himself (+ the joker if your so inclined (but joker would have to be revived somehow for plot reasons) (you can make it Bruce if you want more angst)) then Steph becomes robin because Tim always talked about how gotham needed a robin and she wanted to honor him in a way only she could. then the thing with black mask happens and she still fakes her death travels, heals, grieves, and comes back when she heard bruce picked up a new kid. (Jason wasn't robin yet, just living in the manor but Steph new it was only a matter of time)

so she comes back to gotham and decides she's gonna take care of crime alley her way, and revamps her old spoiler costume. (she may not have grown up there but she was a few streets away and she knew what a place like that did to kids) (she also has no ties to Bruce anymore so her no killing thing gets a whole lot more lax)(she kills her father - that's how bruce and the others found out shes back in town). and openly feuds with black mask over territory and brutally maims him but like just a bit.

Then Jason becomes robin and six months later Tim is back. he's different and definitely a bit more unhinged, but efficient as ever. he quickly takes over the drug trade and helps Steph get rid of the worst of the worst. But doesn't do the whole try to make Bruce kill the joker thing, instead he makes Bruce watch as Tim does and warns him that if he tries to revive the joker again (damian aka nightwing def killed the joker & Bruce brought him back) that they Will Have Problems. Tho he is going as Joker Jr. as a fuck you and a threat to pretty much everyone, after all they all knew what happened to the 2nd robin.

In summary Tim & Steph split up the Red Hood traits

Duffle bag of heads - tim, he's dramatic

Died (like burried in a grave and crawled out died) - tim

Guns - Steph

The joker - tim (but steph will shoot the fucker on sight so help her god)

Black mask war - steph (obvi)

Crime alley - steph mainly (but tim lurks around and every crime alley kid & sex worker knows that if they ever need something JJ will take care of it no questions asked)

Drug trade - tim

Scaring/pissing B off - both, they make it a game

Murder - both as a treat

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Summary: you’re still feeling awkward about what happened that night with Luke. And then you get the news that changes everything.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke. 

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him. 

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away. 

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning. 

The tragedy was he did. 

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it. 

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible. 

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot. 

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed. 

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most. 

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay. 

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you. 

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots. 

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had. 

It was like losing her all over again. 

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds. 

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat. 

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you. 

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow. 

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep. 

“Y/N?” It was Luke. 

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably. 

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh. 

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake. 

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced. 

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated. 

I love you. 

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems. 

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood. 

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.” 

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him. 

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice. 

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs. 

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly. 

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up. 

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted. 

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth. 

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth. 

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow. 

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down. 

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.” 

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled. 

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting. 

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all. 

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium. 

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift. 

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it. 

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person. 

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

I think this was all, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment or message me :)

[moonstruck-poet]

A Nikolai Lantsov fic coming up soon people 👀 and it's a little special too, might I add

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝗶𝘁

paring: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tag(s): idk what this is lol, some angst, a drop of fluff, mostly toxic and dark (?), but it's wanda so it's fine

warning(s): toxic relationship, mentions of death/killing someone, possessive wanda, dark!wanda, mind control, manipulation, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.7k

note: I'M ALIVE. Sorry for disappearing, december was rougher than I had expected lol. But I'm here now, and I appreciate all the love I had gotten while being away. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. Hope you enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The burning feeling on your stomach was creeping all over your body, you felt your entire self giving into the pain and felt your eyes closing as painful tears rolled down your cheeks.

You told yourself that you only needed a second and that you would be alright, so as you could only see the darkness, you let the pain take over. But then, once you opened them, you could only feel a pair of arms exactly where you had felt like dying. 

A tingling feeling on your neck and her hot breath put you at ease. As Wanda kissed your soft skin, you realised that it was just a dream, a really bad one, but a dream nonetheless. And she was there holding your healthy and life full body, keeping it warm with her own body heat and the bedsheets.

“Good morning, detka,” she breathed out, her voice muffled by your skin. 

“Good morning indeed,” you agreed, turning your head for your lips to desperately find hers, making sure she was actually there.  

Her lips were always soft, always fitted against yours, always found some silly comfort when she would bit your bottom lip. But this time it felt off, they had some unknown roughness to them, they felt stiff, not familiar and her teeth bit harder than usual. You instantly pulled away, furring your brows at the discomfort, which didn’t go unnoticed by her. 

“Everything okay?” she whispered, already knowing the answer. 

Wanda felt your body go rigid in her arms, so she did what she had to do to fix it. With a gentle tap to your temple, your eyes flashed red for a second and once they were back to their original colour the frown had disappeared along with the red scarlet hue from her fingertips. 

“Do you want to go take your morning shower and I’ll make us breakfast?” she pretended like nothing had happened, because nothing had actually happened. Nothing she couldn’t fix, at least.

She learned from the first time this kind of incident took place that it was better for the both of you to pretend as if it had never happened. She always made sure to keep her magic strong, but she had to give some credit to your strong human mind. She made a mental note to never put her guard down or she would lose you all over again, and she would rather die than let that happen.

You nodded, placing a soft kiss to her forehead then making your way to the bathroom, as her eyes lingered on your frame. Before you exited the room, you quickly glanced at her with a bright smile on your face, and Wanda felt like she couldn’t breath just by you looking at her. 

She was completely in love with you. It was crazy the hold you had on her, but it was okay, she was fine with being crazy about you. She loved you too much, too hard that she knew the feeling could kill her. But she would die happy anyway, she couldn’t help it, it was the way that she was. She felt as if you were under skin, always on her mind. She had never felt this close to someone before and she knew you were the one for her. 

You were her poison, but Wanda was your disease. You got her weak on her knees. She would do anything you asked her to, any demand or request, as long as you remained by her side, and she would make sure you would always stay with her. 

With a smile on her face, she made her way downstairs to get on with breakfast, knowing she had everything she had ever wanted. 

The moment your naked body got in touch with the warm water, you felt your body going numb. You let the warm water relax all your muscles and with a deep breath you felt as if you were falling asleep. The sound of the pouring water put you in some kind of trance and you felt as if you got back to dreaming. 

It was all foggy, but you recognized where you were: your old flat, before moving in with Wanda. The floor was red, but you didn’t remember ever having a red floor. You tried to focus on the dream too captivated to know what would happen next. And then as clear as daylight, Wanda was in front of you. But she didn’t look like her happy self, she looked mad, and her eyes were shining red. You knew that was a bad sign.

Your eyes shot open at the scary image and scary thought your mind had pictured for you. You felt bile creeping up your throat at the thought that Wanda would do anything to hurt. It was a silly thought, unrealistic even, she would never do such a thing. She loved you, she took care of you, she protected you.

You shrugged it off, letting the water wash away the horrible thoughts and got out of the shower, ready to start your day with your lovely girlfriend who loved you more than anyone in the world. 

As you took a look into your mirror, your eyes wandered around your almost–naked body. You were thinking if Wanda would appreciate the sexy lingerie for later, when your eyes just wouldn't pull away from your stomach. A small scar was on your side, almost invisible to the eye but now that you were paying attention it seemed as if it was getting bigger and bigger.

Your mind wandered around the dream you had, feeling the deadly pain all over again. As your fingertips traced the small healed wound, the memories came rushing to your mind. It was a lot of information for your brain to handle all at once, the more you understood the more you felt like someone was hammering your brain. 

But it was all now crystal clear. The red floor which was never red to begin with, the stern look on Wanda’s face, the screaming and shouting, begging her to stop, and, of course, the pain in your stomach. 

You ran to the bathroom and threw up, not able to contain your body juices anymore. It was all real, none of it had been a dream. Once you gathered yourself and your own thoughts, you made your way back to your bedroom, put on some clothes and ran downstairs to find her. 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted waffles or pancakes… so I made both,” she turned to you with a smile, but it faltered once she saw the look on your face. 

You looked at her in the eyes, trying to hold your chin up. “You killed him,” it wasn’t a question but there was still some doubt in your tone, you didn't want to believe it was real. 

“Here we go again,” she muttered to herself. 

“We broke up,” you went on as you remembered every detail. “I found someone, someone I loved,” you felt tears burning your eyes. “But you didn’t like it, and you had to take that away from me.”

“He didn’t deserve you, he was bad news.”

“You killed him!” your bottom lip was trembling, you were scared and angry. “And you almost killed me,” you called her out as you made sense of the scar on your stomach. 

“I would never…” it pained you would think she would do anything to hurt you. “I would never hurt you, Y/n. Ever.”

“But you did,” you sobbed. “I loved him, I loved…” you were a shaking crying mess. 

“Detka, it’s okay. I can fix it…” she said, getting closer to you. 

“Stay away from me!” you took a step back, but she had already corner you in between the kitchen counter. 

“Shh…” she coed, and though you wanted to scream and make a run, your body betrayed you and found some sick comfort in her hands cupping your cheeks and her forehead resting against yours. “I can fix it,” you heard her whispering as your eyes closed. 

Wanda’s fingertips lighted up against your skin, her scarlet red magic doing its work and fixing up the memories you had in your brain. This time she concentrated longer, making sure the spell wouldn’t falter. She had been so caught up in her fantasy world that she didn’t notice how bad she had been slipping off. She knew you needed her to be better than this, and she promised herself she would be. 

Little by little, she erased all memories of your ex, the year and a half you had spent with it, the home you two had built. But the memory she put all her mind to was the night she made sure you belonged to her. 

“We can be together, baby. You can stay forever,” it wasn’t much of a request but her demanding it from you.

She made sure you forgot how you hd opened up the door to a pissed off Wanda; how she had let herself inside your home; how she had yelled both at you and your boyfriend; how pissed he had got; how one thing had led to another and next thing you knew you were holding your boyfriend’s dead body covered in blood; how you had yelled at her; how angry you had got at her; how angry she had got at you because you just wouldn’t understand; how you had grabbed a kitchen knife, scared for your life with her being present; how she had chased after you; how you had got accidentally stabbed and passed out for all blood you had lost. 

“Nothing else matters,” she reassured. 

She replaced all of those memories —bad memories— with happy ones. Just the two of you, the only thing you needed. She didn’t rush, she took her time picturing every single one for you, making sure her magic would last longer. And as she finished, she pressed her lips against yours, sealing the spell as you kissed her back. 

It took you a second to be out of the trance she had put you in. 

“I think I’d rather have the waffles,” you said with a big smile on your face. 

“Then waffles it is,” Wanda smiled back at you, her heart at ease knowing she had fixed it once again. 

And she would keep on fixing it, as many times as she would have to. It didn’t matter, for all she knew she would happily bury you by her side just to keep you.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[avis-writeshq]

your friendly reminder that spencer reid will listen to any music you want. if he’s in your car and you want to play taylor swift, he’ll listen to it with no complaints. if you want to listen to olivia rodrigo and blast it all over the house, he’ll turn it up even louder. if you want to listen to kpop music, he’ll translate them for you and tell you what they mean after.

he’s not going to hate on your music if you don’t hate on his.

[avalynlestrange]

Opposite

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Reader: she/her pronouns, no house mentioned but are friends with the Slytherin Squad and Hufflepuff Faction <3

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, implied sex-no smut. It’s literally a sentence- (Please let me know if I missed any)

Category: Angst, One-Shot, Songfic, ex-boyfriend, on and off relationship, jealousy, no use of y/n

Summary: In which Mattheo has a new girlfriend and she looks nothing like you.

So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public.  You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.

Request: anon requested

Author’s Note: I hope this is to your liking <3

Word Count: <2k

To The Library (Main Masterlist) To The Kitchen (WIPs) To emails i can't send fwd: Anthology To more Mattheo Riddle fics

You are in the astronomy tower for your evening lesson, and you hear giggling next to you.

“Mattheo says I’m his type.”

Your ears prickle at the mention of his name. 

Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me.

You brush off the memory of the argument you had with Mattheo the previous year when he would rather drink a shot than tell everyone at the party what his type was. That action stung even to the present day. You remember him defending himself saying that everyone knew you were his girlfriend and that he didn’t need to describe you. It still would have been nice to hear.

“He’s been writing to me all summer.” The same voice spills more tea to her friends.

Oh, so you can reply? Just to not me. 

All summer you had hoped that Mattheo would write to you taking back the harsh words exchanged in your heated break-up a few weeks before the holidays. You sent him a postcard from Paris saying you wished he was with you, but you never got a response. You didn’t think anything of it since it was just a postcard, and he never usually replies to them.

Ever since then, the closest you have ever had to talking was during potions where you asked him to pass the jar of bat wings.

That was a week ago.

You now hear the same group of voices ask about you, to which the girl responds, “He says he’s over her and wants something new. He’s so obsessed with my eyes.”

You can’t tell if she’s speaking loudly for your benefit, but you certainly know that she is aware of your vicinity now as Pansy swears at them and throws them the finger. You quickly grab your friend’s arm and gently move her away.

Despite your better judgement, you turn to look at the person speaking about your ex-boyfriend as you stride to the other side of the room.

‘If you wanted those colour eyes. I could have got contacts.’

“Ignore them. You deserve better anyways.” Pansy tries to reassure you. You nod in agreement, but you can’t shake the uneasiness you feel when you look at Mattheo and he’s looking at her.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

“Pass me the butter?” Daphne requests. 

Your head feels faint and wobble the butter dish nearly dropping the lid, and the whole butter itself, into Pansy’s hot chocolate.

“That’s not the dairy I want in my cup.” Pansy jokes. She takes the dish off your hands and passes it over to Daphne.

“You look like a panda. Are you feeling alright?” Tracey asks, taking a bite out of her breakfast. She calls your name when you don’t reply. 

Your eyes give the great hall a once over and notice that the person haunting your nights is not at his usual seat with his friends. 

“He’s on a date in Hogsmeade.” Informed Susan. “I heard Annlynn brag about it last night in the common room.”

You saw Pansy glare at Susan.

“What? Ow! Why did you kick me?” Susan reaches down to rub her hurt shin.

So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public. 

You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.

“Guys it’s fine. His loss and besides she looks nothing like me.” You can't really tell, should you be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite. You see your friends look at each other and then at you.

“Yes girly! Let’s go shopping and show him what he’s missing!” Pansy hypes you up as she raises her teacup and you all clink.

“Hear hear!”

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Browsing the racks in Galdrags Wizardwear, you have two outfits on hangers in your hands. You head over to the mirror stand by the shop’s main window frame and alternate putting the outfits in front of you. Your eyes look outside, and you catch them holding hands.

With the mirror in front of you, you couldn’t help comparing yourself and the girl he has in his arms.

‘She looks nothing like me. So why do you look so happy?’

Now you think you get the cause of it. He was holding out to find the opposite. From your hair to your eyes to your style. Even when you changed your hair because he said you looked better if you had it styled that way. It’s all the opposite of her.

And you know now, even if you tried to change that somehow, he’d end up with her anyway.

You snap out of your head when Megan scares you from behind. “You’d look cute in either.”

“Get both!” You hear Millicent from the other side of the room.

You smile and it fades when you lock eyes with Mattheo.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

He was with her longer than you thought they would be. It’s been weeks now. Gazing at the ceiling of your four-post bed, many questions swirl around your mind.

When you argue, does she say nothing so you feel good? When you’re at parties, does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?  When you’re alone, does she get up on top of you more than I would? When you capture her in your sketchbook, does she just love the picture 'cause you're painting it?

“Are you coming?” Your dorm mate calls to you.

It’s the first official match of the year. Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Although you protested not attending and insisted you’d rather stay inside your friends won even though it’s a rainy November. 

You grab your umbrella and raincoat and tread your way to the quidditch pitch. The crowd in the stands were wild in anticipation. Susan beckons you to sit with them, and they’re all dressed devoid of house colours. 

The students cheered for every goal scored and every goal saved. You scream and laugh to your heart's content. The feeling is freeing, and the autumn showers subside. Whizzing brooms and bludgers make you forget about the one boy on the team playing that still held your heart.

At least not until the whistle blows and Mattheo flies toward your stand. The beat of your heart pounds fast in your chest. Is he going to whisk you away like that the first time you broke up? Then your heart falls heavy and your lungs dispel all the hope in your body as you watch him take off with her.

Only it wasn’t Annlynn. But they do have the same features. 

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

It was a bad idea from the start. Studying with your shared friendship circle. But you had missed him. The only time you ever get to interact with him was in group settings.

He was seated beside you for two hours. You’d ask him what he wrote for certain questions, and he’d reply politely. Like he was talking to a stranger, not an old friend. But you take it. You take whatever communication you could get.

You ask once more for his answer to a defence against the dark arts question however, before he could reply, his chair is pulled back, and a girl sits on his lap.

You look away at the public display of affection they share. The nib of your quill ruined by the pressure you place on it.

“Get a room!” You hear Blaise chuckle. 

You whip your head to see Mattheo standing, his arm wraps around her. “Let’s go Harper.”

“Get it boy!” Blaise winks at him. Mattheo shakes his head laughing.

They’ve all looked nothing like you. So why does he look so happy? He really must have been holding out to find the opposite.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

At the after-party for Slytherin’s win against Ravenclaw, all were present in the great hall. You fill up your cup with whatever fruit blend was in the punch bowl.

“Hey there! Care to Dance?” A quick glance at Mattheo and his date and you take the hand of one Anthony Goldstein.

You danced the night away and had nearly seven cups of the now alcoholic punch bowl, thank you Weasley twins. You tried everything to forget that Mattheo once again was with another girl who doesn’t resemble you. 

Throughout the night your eyes darted to Mattheo and his new girl. The only time their lips were apart was when he would take a swig out of his cup. Every time you saw them, you took a gulp out of yours.

Now, you weren’t drunk per se, but you were feeling a little dizzy after twirling and swaying to the music. You see them walk out of the hall and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You decide to head outside for some air. You wipe a tear off your face with the back of your hand. 

Whilst opening the courtyard door, you bump into someone. You catch yourself on to the biceps of the person.

“Oh my! You must work out!” The words come out as easily as you sipped the alcohol that caused the bravery.

“Careful darling wouldn’t want your date to think you’re hitting on me.” At the sound of Mattheo’s voice, you curse quietly. You take your heels off and walk away. Footsteps seem to be following you.

“How is Goldstein?” Mattheo asks, pronouncing the name slowly, a hard expression on his face.

You sit on one of the stone arch windows. The cold surface cools you down slightly.

“Oh, he is fine as hell!” You glare at him and with bitterness in your voice you ask, “How is clone number 4?” 

You roll around a gobstone you find on the floor with your foot and kick it a bit too hard toward Mattheo.

“Her name is Maya. Why do you care anyway?” He kicks the stone back to you.

“I care but I don't!” Your volume is lower, your shoulders slouch, and your neck tilts downwards. “Just wondering when… all those times you… you said I'm beautiful. Was I being lied to?”

Looking up at him, you can’t tell if his expression is soft, or it is because your eyes are starting to water. When he says nothing, you carry on.

“She looks nothing like me. Can't really tell should I be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite.”

He takes a step forward and you hear him whisper your name. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

You laugh scornfully. “Then why are you with her and not back with me?”

Mattheo runs his hands through his hair and holds them in his fists. “Because you were right!”

Your brows furrow. He continues, “Darling, I’m not good enough for you!”

“I have never said that!” 

Flashbacks to your argument run through your mind. It might have slipped out. You can’t remember. It was all a blur. You don’t even recall the reason why you broke up this time. Whatever was said you were sure you never meant it. You never meant to hurt him like this.

“But it’s true! You deserve more than what I can give you. You deserve the world darling.” He takes another step towards you.

You look up and his eyes meet with yours.

“I don’t want the world. I want you.”

That’s all it took for his walls to crash down as his lips crashes yours.

[ssseashell]

Safe Haven Newtmas because it’s the ending they deserved 🌾

[film-bro-hotch]

I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)

I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.

Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible

WC: 2k

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.

It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?

Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case. 

“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?” “Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it. 

An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.

Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.

No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.

The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting? 

That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin. 

When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.

“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.

After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie. 

That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.

It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?” “I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.

Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”

“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought. 

“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”

“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits. 

“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back. 

“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.

The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.

On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.

“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.

You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you. 

He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.

“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.

Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response. 

You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life. 

“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.

Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”

You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.

Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”

He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.” 

You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.