#They were both devastated and neither handled it well

[ffxivaltaholic]

Prompt #29: (You Pick) Divergence

#FFxivWrite2024

"It hurts... But I don't blame you...

We lost a part of ourselves with her. You have every right to be angry, to hate the gods and fate itself. I would not hold judgement if you screamed to the heavens how unfair it is, how cruel and unnecessary taking such a kind person could feel.

Because it is.

Life is an unfair thing, we Gleaners know it all to well as we see much of the world. We witness the lives of so many, even more so for us Viera, whose lives extended beyond most others. In that amount of time and distance, we witness many things both good and unfortunate. Illness and death are no strangers to us.

But when it's someone you love... It hurts so much. She was my world.

I know you're tired. We spent countless nights at her bedside to keep her company so she would not go alone. Tonight I have not slept at all either. Part of me wonders if I could just go to sleep perhaps I would wake up and this will all have been a terrible dream, just a nightmare. You probably feel the same, but at least you made it in time for her, it would not have been right otherwise. We are her closest friends, over twenty years together exploring the world, finding all manner of strange plants and animals. Always the three of us. You gave her away to me during our wedding as her father had already passed, and you were responsible for introducing us in the first place. It only seemed fitting you joined us in her last moments.

From the beginning to the end you were there.

Watching you walk away was a different kind of hurt. I understand your anger, even with me as I grieved more quietly than you had wanted. It is simply not my nature to scream into the abyss, to throw things and curse the world. I felt my sorrow in quiet ways, putting all my energy into settling her affairs and burial. It kept me held together if I didn't have time to think about it.

If I didn't address it, I would be able to keep composed until I felt ready.

Once everything was done, her placard made and estate consolidated, I had nothing to keep me occupied, and I was afraid to fall apart. I wasn't ready yet. Perhaps, it might have been best if I had let it out like you did right away, to vent my sorrows and crumble to my emotions. Instead I simply buried my sorrow. I did what had worked before and returned to my duties with diligence. I though maybe you would as well, and we could go together.

I did not think you would refuse.

It honestly shocked me and the mere idea of going our separate ways was devastating. We had already lost her; I didn't want to lose you as well. You didn't even say goodbye to me, perhaps intending to spare my feelings? Or to prevent yourself from striking me in rage... I am not sure, but a letter...

It feels so empty."

[alsofoundinpeas]

In the Blink of a Lens

Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.

(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3

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

A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)

Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.

Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.

She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.

It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.

It was his hand.

His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.

His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—

No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...

Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...

A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?

Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)

Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.

Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.

That's better. That feels normal.

She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—

To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.

"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."

Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.

The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…

"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.

The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.

He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.

Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.

The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?

But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.

Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.

She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...

A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...

Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.

What had gotten into her?

Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.

Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid

Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.

Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)

A minute passes before his response comes through.

Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?

Y/N: Of course I can <3

Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.

Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.

The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.

"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"

"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."

Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.

"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.

Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"

Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.

"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."

The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.

No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.

"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.

The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.

All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.

Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.

Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.

If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.

The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.

Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.

Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.

He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?

When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.

After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.

As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.

Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.

"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.

Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.

"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"

Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.

"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."

It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."

Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.

"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"

Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."

Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.

"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."

"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.

Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.

"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.

The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.

They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.

Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.

Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."

A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.

"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."

The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.

A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.

Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.

Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.

"Be still—"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—

Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.

Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.

Sent twenty-three minutes ago.

Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.

Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)

Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?

One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.

Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.

"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.

She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.

"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.

She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.

"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.

"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.

That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.

The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.

As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"Here, you've got a little..."

The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.

In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.

Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"

"Y/N."

Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.

"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.

Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I liked it."

Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.

"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."

Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.

Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.

The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.

"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."

A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.

Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.

It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.

The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.

Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"

"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."

Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.

"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."

Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."

Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.

"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"

He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.

The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.

His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.

Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.

Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.

Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.

"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."

Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.

The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.

A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.

They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.

The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.

"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.

Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"

A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.

"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"

"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"

Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.

Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.

Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.

Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.

"You're sure you want this?"

Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.

"More than anything."

The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.

Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"

Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.

Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.

"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.

Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.

"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."

Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?

Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.

Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.

"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"

Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.

"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.

Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.

"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.

If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.

"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"

Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.

"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"

A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.

“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”

Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.

Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”

Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.

He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.

The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.

And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.

His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.

Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.

Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.

“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“

Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.

Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.

“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.

“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.

“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”

Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.

“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.

“Go get it then.”

Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.

Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.

“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.

Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”

Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.

“I said I’m sorry—“

He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”

Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.

A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.

“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.

"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”

Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.

Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“

“Yes.”

Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.

Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.

Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."

There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.

With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.

Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.

Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.

Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.

He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.

"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—

The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.

Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.

He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.

Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.

After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.

"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.

Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.

"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.

Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.

Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.

"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"

As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.

Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hello!! Could you do a Regulus x Reader who is Barty's twin sister, maybe? It can be, like, just Barty being veeery dramatic his best friend is dating his "Precious Treasure, baby sister Y/N"

(If you want, could you do reader as Ravenclaw? I am one myself so that's why haha)

regulus black x crouch!reader who is 'defiled' by him

You’d been sneaking off to meet Regulus for weeks under the guise of “study sessions.” Barty, bless his oblivious heart, bought it every time. But today, as fate would have it, you and Regulus were actually studying. You were sitting across from each other, surrounded by books, and for once, neither of you had so much as brushed hands.

Then the door burst open with a bang, and Barty stormed in, dragging a nonchalant-looking Evan at his side.

“REGULUS BLACK!” Barty bellowed, face red, practically foaming at the mouth. “HOW DARE YOU—”

You and Regulus jerked up, blinking at him with wide eyes. “Uh, Barty?” you ventured, pushing your Transfiguration book aside. “What’s wrong?”

Barty froze mid-rant, taking in the scene. The neatly aligned notes. The genuine, palpable… studying.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting from you to Regulus and back, as if desperately seeking a hint of anything he could use against the Slytherin. “I… uh. Right.” He looked at Evan, hoping for support.

“Yes,” Evan said blandly, “it looks very… scandalous, Barty.”

With an awkward cough and a dramatic hair toss, Barty turned on his heel, leaving the room as though he hadn’t just made a grand scene. You and Regulus waited a beat after the door clicked shut, then sighed in unison, sharing a relieved laugh.

But, naturally, peace was never meant to last.

A week later, you and Regulus finally let your guard down. You’d snuck into a secluded corner, exchanging long, soft kisses, when a horrified gasp echoed through the corridor.

“OH, MY TREASURED, PRECIOUS SISTER!” Barty’s voice thundered as he gaped at the two of you, Evan standing dutifully by his side with an unreadable expression. “ARE YOU SEEING THIS, EVAN?”

“Yes, Barty,” Evan deadpanned, “it’s… devastating. Truly. I may cry.”

Barty’s hand flew to his forehead, looking seconds from fainting. “REGULUS BLACK, YOU FILTHY SCOUNDREL! HOW DARE YOU—”

“Oh, Merlin,” you muttered, pulling away from Regulus, face red with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “Barty, please, it’s not that serious.”

“NOT THAT SERIOUS?” Barty’s eyes were wild. “My baby sister! My delicate, angelic sister, defiled by—by him!”

Evan’s lips twitched as he watched the spectacle, glancing at Regulus, who was entirely amused. “Well, you’re not wrong, Barty. It’s horrific.”

You huffed, crossing your arms with a smirk, looking every bit as sassy as Regulus. Barty, unable to handle it, marched off with a huff, refusing to speak to either of you. For the next week, he only addressed you both through Evan.

“Evan, tell her I refuse to be betrayed by my own blood.”

“Evan, tell Black he can burn in the deepest pits of Azkaban.”

Evan looked mildly entertained, relaying each line with a deadpan that had you and Regulus nearly in stitches every time.

Finally, though, when you and Regulus refused to go groveling back, Barty stormed up to the two of you in the common room, brandishing a very long list of what he called “The Rules of Courtship According to Barty Crouch Jr.”

“Listen, you two!” he declared, waving his list like a sword. “If you want to keep dating, you’ll have to agree to my conditions.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Alright, Barty. Let’s hear them.”

He cleared his throat, glancing at Evan for dramatic emphasis. “Condition one: Regulus shall send me weekly updates regarding his intentions.”

Regulus smirked, nodding with faux seriousness. “Of course, Barty. I’ll draft a parchment immediately.”

“Condition two,” Barty continued, “any romantic gesture that may involve public displays of affection will be cleared by me first.”

You bit back a laugh, looking at Regulus, who gave you a wink. “Completely understandable,” you replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Condition three: If Regulus breaks your heart,” Barty paused, swallowing, “I reserve the right to challenge him to a wizard’s duel.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Very noble of you, Barty.”

Barty ignored him, watching you both expectantly. “Do we have a deal?”

Regulus put a hand on his heart, leaning in toward you with mock reverence. “If that’s what it takes to keep you, love,” he murmured, looking like he was seconds away from laughing.

You turned to Barty with a playful smile, saluting him with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Deal, Barty. I’ll keep your conditions in mind.”

Barty huffed, looking pleased with himself but suspicious, muttering under his breath about how “it better be taken seriously.” But as he stomped off with Evan in tow, you and Regulus just exchanged a look, barely managing to hold in your laughter until he was out of earshot.

And for the next few weeks, Barty would “accidentally” stumble upon you two in the most innocent scenarios—Regulus helping you with homework, walking you to class, even reading quietly together in the common room. He would leave with an awkward salute or finger guns every time he was deemed wrong.

hey, lovie!! thank you so much for requesting. it is a non-specified house so you can go with ravenclaw if you want. hope you like it

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Never a Dull Moment (Part 15)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

Well for all the meeting with the JL had sort of been shit, it had brought Jason back to the attention of the hero community. He was rebuilding, or building bonds with his adoptive brothers and, while he still wasn’t really a hero, he was far from joining the legion of doom. He wanted to help the heroes when he could, especially if they’d pay him, or return the favour later, or were family. But if he was going to be working with the heroes, and the bats again, there was one more person he really needed to make up with, and one more he needed to meet.

Steph hadn’t been part of the bats before he died, neither had Tim, so he had never met her, and Barb… he’d heard about what had happened to her. The Joker had shot her, paralyzed her from the waist down and officially, and permanently benched Batgirl. Apparently Huntress had tried to take the mantle for a while, but it didn’t suit her style. Jason wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing someone else so badly hurt by the Joker.

It helped that the Joker was dead now of course, but that wasn’t really the part of it he was worried about. She had found a new place for herself, carved out a space as Oracle, the bat’s ‘guy-in-the-chair’, she had adjusted to such a devastating change and she was… okay. He had died, yes, but he had been brought back, but he was unquestionably worse. Seeing her was going to make him so ashamed of himself. Through no fault of her own she was the standard Bats hurt by the joker were held to, and he had failed it spectacularly. 

Not that the others hadn’t been hurt by the Joker. Tim had told Jason about his time as Joker Junior in confidence and it sounded fucking awful, and Tim was permanently affected by it. He said he couldn’t remember many details but he knew he didn’t experience emotions the same way he had before, and he was still prone to bouts of mania. Jason could sympathize with that, he understood, and he certainly understood what it was like to fear insanity, what one could become if they finally fell off the knife edge they were tottering on. Both he and Danny were intimately familiar with that feeling, and they could all support each other through it. 

Once he had met ‘O’ maybe he would find out ways that she wasn’t as well adjusted as she seemed from the outside but right now? Jason found her tremendously intimidating. So sue him that he had been putting off meeting her in person again, in spite of Dickie’s gentle nagging to incorporate himself more with the Gotham vigilantes. 

“Really Jay, she’d be happy to meet you and it would make it so much easier to coordinate with you and help you if you need it.” Dick insisted as he followed from the living room to the kitchen, without seeming to register it.

“I’m already on the coms. I hacked them ages ago and she hasn’t booted me off, we can coordinate. It’s not like I ever ask you guys for help anyway,” Jason grumbled. “Why do you want me to meet your ex so badly?!” He snapped as he put the kitchen island between himself and Dick to enforce some space, then winced a little. He really needed to stop lashing out when he was feeling a bit defencive, thankfully these things seemed to just bounce off of Dick. Though the jury was out on if he knew Jason didn’t mean it or if they just went over his head. 

“Ya, but it’s her channels you’re hacking and honestly she’s starting to get pretty upset about you not engaging with her!” Dick said, talking with his hands to the extent Danny subtly rescued his glass of pop before it could get spilled or accidentally flung at the wall. “Doesn’t matter that she’s my ex, she's one of us and she’s good! You’re getting back involved with our family, you should get back in touch with her!”

Danny put the glass down on the counter and casually blocked Dick’s way before he could follow Jason around the counter, leaning against. He was doing that thing he did where he practically faded into the background without going fully invisible. Not interrupting the conversation while still keeping an eye on Jason, which he appreciated because he did not want to lose it on his well meaning (if pushy) brother. 

“I’m not fucking one of you! I’m not a hero!” Jason growled at Dick, feeling Danny gently rest a hand on his arm reminding him to take a deep breath. 

“But you’re still part of the family, Littlewing,” Dick pleaded, looking a little hurt and terribly hopeful. “Please?”

Jason felt that like a punch in the gut, and really he knew Dick was right and he should meet the two of them. He groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine, she’s always on the coms right? Next time I’ll just apologize for hacking them and have a chat.” 

“Actually Bruce will be off-world next week so we’re all having a family lunch at the manor, you should come!” Dick enthused.

“I haven’t-”

“Yes you have, I know you’ve sneaked in to visit Alfred! Not that I blame you of course. He’d love to have you there,” Dick interrupted, giving Jason his best puppy dog eyes.

Shit, bringing up Alfred was just cheating, those puppy dog eyes didn’t usually work on him but Jason could feel himself softening. His shoulders slowly drooping before he heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine, yes, we’ll come,” He grumbled.

“We’ll?” Dick asked looking confused, before Danny slipped out of his half visible state and pressed against Jason’s side smiling at Dick. 

“We’re looking forward to it,” Danny said, smiling at Dick. He hadn’t technically been invited, but surely they couldn’t expect Jason to go without his partner. 

“Oh, ah, right,” Dick said shifting awkwardly. He looked like he might want to suggest Jason's first family lunch since getting back should be with family only, but Danny put on his best innocently excited look and Dick couldn’t bring himself to say no. He stifled a sigh and put his smile back on. “Great! I’m sure Alfred will be happy to have both of you.”

“Great. Now that you’ve gotten your way will you both get out of my kitchen so I can cook?!” Jason insisted, still only half regretting inviting Dick over for dinner tonight.

---------

Jason knew better than to bring anything to the family dinner. Alfred liked to do all of the cooking for these things, he considered coming early to help him with the cooking he wanted to do. But honestly he didn’t think that he could handle any more time with the family then was absolutely needed. Just going back to the manor, not just sneaking into the kitchen to have tea with Alfred, was going to be hard enough. 

Danny wasn’t anywhere near as nervous as Jason was, he was sort of excited to meet them and to get a tour of the home Jason had spent such formative years in. Jason caught the mischievous look in Danny’s eyes when he talked about getting a tour and Jason was pretty sure that Bruce was going to come back to find that something expensive or potentially sentimental had been mysteriously broken. Jason didn’t mention it, he didn’t blame Danny for the urge and didn’t want to know anything about it. He just wanted to show up for dinner, stay for an hour or two to make nice, and then get drunk.

“Jason? We’re going to be late,” Danny said softly, leaning against the back of the couch where Jason was sitting. He didn’t say it with any urgency, he wasn’t rushing Jason. It was a gentle reminder, if Jason wanted to be late Danny would support it, if Jason wanted to cancel and not go at all Danny would curl up on the couch with him and not bring up the dinner again  unless Jason did. Even if he did want to go.

“You’re right, we should get going,” Jason agreed and stood up. “How do I look?” He asked, he was wearing untorn jeans and a short sleeved shirt with a collar, almost a polo.

Danny gave him a considerate look, “Downright preppy,” He chuckled, leaning forward to giving Jason a gentle kiss. He was wearing a sort of silky black button down and tight jeans, also nice, but more his style. 

Jason laughed softly into the kiss and gripped Danny’s hips, pulling him closer and prolonging the kiss as Danny let out a little sound of pleasure. Maybe they should be late after all…

Danny broke the kiss and stepped away. “You look good Jason, you’ll make a good impression on them. And no matter what happens you’ll still have me. If you want to cut them all off again and go back to the way things were, you’ll still have me. No matter what.” Danny promised Jason, holding his hand and guiding him towards the door. 

“I’m not going to isolate us again Danny. And you shouldn’t let me even if I try,” Jason told Danny, trying to keep his tone light to undercut how much he meant it. “And if I do feel free to stage an intervention.”

Danny laughed and gave Jason a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and didn’t respond. Well that was clearly a topic they were going to have to talk about more later, but apparently now was not the time because Danny tugged Jason more forcefully out of the door. Jason took over leading the way down and tugged Danny onto the back of his bike before taking off toward the manor. 

The gate opened as they pulled up which meant someone must have been watching for them, Jason barely had to slow down to duck through the half open gate. He skidded to a stop at the end of the long driveway that separated the Wayne’s from the rest of Gotham. He hadn’t noticed anyone hanging around the gate but he wondered if anyone would notice the two new people driving into the estate, and if there would be any speculation about who they were. He hoped not, unless it would give Bruce a headache, then maybe he could put up with it.

Danny hopped off the back of his bike and took off his helmet, fussing and fluffing up his flattened hair as he looked around them with a grin. Jason flipped down the kickstand and got up as well, taking off his helmet and shrugging off his jacket. Quickly Dick came bursting out of the door and leaping down the front steps to hug Jason, who quickly redirected Dick at Danny who laughed and hugged Dick tightly, lifting him off the ground and making him squeak. 

Jason grinned and looked up, freezing for just a moment when he saw Alfred, standing in the open doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, watching them with a barely there smile. Jason left the other two as Danny put Dick down again laughing at his expression, and Jason went up the stairs ahead of them. 

“It’s good to see you again Master Jason,” Alfred murmured to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. His accent and the warmth in his eyes always felt like home, Jason’s shoulder unknotted a little. “I know the manor doesn’t feel like home for you, but you’re still always welcome here.”

“I know Alfred,” Jason said softly. And he did, even Bruce wouldn’t turn him out, though he would ask for certain concessions. Any time Jason wanted to give up and come home, he could, too bad he’d always been too proud and too driven to give up. He’d blow everything up first, a trait he wasn’t exactly proud of. 

“As long as you know. Come on in, you and your partner,” He said, nodding behind Jason and when he glanced back Danny was there and he nudged gently against Jason’s shoulder. Jason took the hint and wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders.

“Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny. Danny, this is the family butler, and pseudo grandfather, Alfred.” Jason introduced them and Danny smiled brightly, holding out his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” Danny said as Alfred shook his hand. “Jason has told me so much about you, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” 

“And I you young man, it is delightful to meet anyone who has brought so much joy to my grandchildren’s lives,” Alfred said warmly before ushering them all inside and to the dining room to get them all drinks. 

“It’s good to finally meet you!” A blond girl popped out of nowhere making Jason jump. 

“Fu-”

“Language Master Jason!” Alfred cut in.

“Sorry Alfred, she just startled me,” Jason told him before looking back at the blond. “So you must be Steph eh? Kinda funny how the people who date into this fucked up family never escape even long after the breakup,” He chuckled as he offered her his hand, which she grabbed with both of hers and shook vigorously. 

“Hey I could totally leave if I want to, I didn’t become Spoiler because of him! I like being a vigilante!” She insisted before letting go and moving on to shake Danny’s hand. “Behold! Your future,” She joked and he cackled. 

“Jason and I aren’t planning to break up any time soon,” he joked back. “And I was a cape long before I met him, more of a cape then I am now actually,” He said, clicking his tongue and snuggling back against Jason’s side when she let go. 

“Oh ya? How’d you get into it,” Steph asked curiously. 

“Oh it was after I got my powers at 14,” Danny started to explain. A story Jason had heard before, and he had a feeling Steph already knew as well but wanted to hear directly from the source. 

Jason looked up and around the room, sort of tuning out their conversation since he already had an idea how it would go. He spotted Barbra quickly, she had pulled her wheelchair at the table, she had her elbows propped on the arms and her hands folded, staring at him over steepled fingers. Well, time to face the music. He kissed the top of Danny’s head and slipped away, walking around the table and sitting down next to her. 

“Hey Barbie,” He said a little awkwardly, she gave him a look that made him wince. “Sorry Barbra,” He murmured, wondering how she perfected Alfred’s disappointed look more than any of the kids who actually grew up with him.

“Barb is fine,” She said, spinning her chair to face him a little more. 

“Right, it’s- um, it’s good to see you again?” He said it like a question. 

“Really?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and leaning back in her chair. “And here I thought you’d been avoiding me.”

“Ya, I’m sorry. I don’t really have any excuse,” He admitted, looking away from her. 

“Do you have a reason?” She asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“Well, ya, but I don’t know if it’s a good one,” He told her.

“Tell it to me anyway.”

“I couldn’t face someone else The Joker hurt so bad. I didn’t know about Timmer’s Joker Jr incident when I reached out to him,” Jason sighed, unable to look at her. 

“What? Am I everything you don’t want to be?” She asked dryly and he shook his head. 

“No, you’re what I should have been if I was stronger,” He admitted with a sigh. “I’m sure you had a ton of shit to work through, but you moved forward and found a new role for yourself, stayed a part of the family and didn’t distance yourself. You’re not stuck in the past, obsessed with revenge and so fucking angry and scared,” Jason grumbled. 

“So I make you feel inadequate?” She asked with an amused note to her voice. 

“Ya I guess so,” Jason said with a bitter little snort of a laugh.

“I guess I can understand that,” Barb sighed with a little shrug. “You shouldn't compare yourself to others like that though you know. It's not healthy, you're on your own ‘healing journey’.” At least she put finger-quotes around the phrase. None of the bats took particularly well to therapy talk though she must have had a decent amount of it after her injury. Commissioner Gordon wouldn't have let her go without.

“Gee thanks,” Jason said,  rolling his eyes. “But also, kinda ya. I'm trying to be better you know? That's why I'm here, I'm trying to do better you know? I appreciate that you haven't kicked me off the coms, but I'd like to be on them in a more official way now. Me and Danny, we care about Gotham too, we should work with her other protectors a bit more.”

“Remember you're not supposed to talk about work at dinner, did you already forget that rule?” She teased him with a little smile, at least she didn't seem mad anymore. “But I agree, I'll officially add you to our contacts for Arkham breakouts and stuff.

“Now I think Steph is about to give your boyfriend a tour of the manor, do you want to go with them?” Barb asked, gesturing over at Danny, who was indeed being dragged out of the room while laughing.

“Nah, it seems like they're getting along well and I already know my way around here if I need to,” he said with a shrug. “Unless you're trying to get a break from me, then I'll go.”

“No, honestly I'd rather not be left alone with Dick,” she joked making Jason laugh properly and relax at least a little. He relaxed properly when Alfred brought out drinks and appetizers. Soon he was teasing Dick along with Barb, and getting disapproving looks for talking with his mouth full.

Just as food was brought to the table Steph and Danny returned, Jason could tell from how smug Danny looked that something was in the house was broken, Steph seemed blissfully ignorant. Danny slid into the open seat next to Jason. Jason gave him a questioning look, Danny winked and Jason rolled his eyes, he'd find out more about whatever it was Danny had broken later. Tim joined them at the last minute as well, apologizing for losing track of time in his lab. 

The foods was wonderful, Alfred's cooking always tasted like home, and he was the reason Jason showed his love by feeding people. Everything Alfred made was made with love and soon everyone was chatting between bites. Danny and Tim were talking about his lab, which hadn't been part of the tour so Tim was going to show Danny after dinner. Barb and Jason had started talking about books and Dick kept butting in with irrelevant details because he wasn't very academic but he wanted to be part of the conversation. Steph got him off their back by starting to tease him for being a cop and pestering him for stories.

Things were going really well, until everyone's phones went off, with the special ring tones. Everyone reached for their phones. 

“No phones at the tab-” Alfred started automatically before he realized the implications of all of them getting a call. He closed his mouth with a very soft click, Jason didn't have a JL phone, but even he had gotten a text from Wonder Woman so he checked it to. 

There is a disturbance, we will likely need assistance from you and Hyena. We are waiting for word from Constantine.

“Well shit. Sorry dinner’s gotta end early Alfred, it looks like it's all hands on deck. At least we're all here so Danny and I can just Zeta in with all of you.” Jason sighed and pushed back from the table. 

“I don't have my suit,” Danny exclaimed, startled, “I didn't think I'd need it!”

“How quickly can you get it?” Dick asked, clearly worried.

“Give me ten minutes, is there anything you want me to get for you as well?” Jason nodded and told Danny some specific weapons Danny had built for him.  Danny nodded before transforming and speeding out through the wall leaving shocked silence in his wake.

“So that's what his other form looks like? Pretty cool!” Dick exclaimed finally. “Anyway, we should get ready too. Let's head down to the cave and see what info they've already sent through. 

[tashiberrie]

✮ HEARTWORM ✮  tashi duncan x fem!reader 

⋆💌⋆ TAGS - written with fem reader in mind, toxic relationship, reader is a lit student, angst, stanford era, no mention of tashi’s injury

wc- 763

masterlist

You two had met during a tennis tournament in 2004. After a long and intense match between the two of you, Tashi Duncan had come out on top.

You were drawn to each other instantly, like two moths to a flame, each recognising the shadows in the other's eyes.

From the start, your relationship was a tempest. You were addicted to the intensity of your connection, the way you could read each other's minds with a glance, and the way your souls seemed to intertwine in a dance of passion and pain. Your love was all-consuming, burning brightly but always on the verge of destruction.

Tashi was volatile, her moods swinging wildly from euphoric highs to devastating lows. She played furiously, the swings of her racket reflecting the chaos within her. You found inspiration in her unpredictability, your writing becoming darker, more profound, as you delved into the depths of your tumultuous love.

But your passion often turned into rage. Fights erupted over trivial matters, your words cutting deep, leaving scars that never fully healed.

You would argue until dawn, your voices echoing through the dorm room, throwing accusations and regrets like daggers. But in the quiet moments after the storm, you would cling to each other desperately, unable to let go despite the pain. You were addicted to the drama, the heartbreak, and the brief moments of bliss that followed your reconciliations.

You tried to leave once, packing your bags and walking out the door, determined to escape the cycle of hurt. But you couldn't stay away. You found yourself drawn back to Tashi, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your love. She was your muse, your torment, your everything. And so, you returned, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your love was both your salvation and your destruction.

Tashi, too, tried to move on. She sought solace in her tennis, pouring her pain onto the court, hoping to exorcise the demons that haunted her. But every swing of her racket reminded her of you, of the way you looked at her as if she were the only person in the world. She was lost without you, adrift in a sea of loneliness and longing. And so, she called you, her voice trembling with desperation, begging you to come back.

You reunions were always bittersweet, filled with tears and whispered apologies. You would cling to each other, promising to change, to be better, but the cycle would inevitably repeat. Your love was a battlefield, each skirmish leaving you more battered and bruised, but neither of you could surrender. You were trapped in a toxic dance, unable to break free yet unable to truly be together.

As the years passed, the toll of your relationship began to show. Your once bright eyes grew dull with fatigue, and Tashi's vibrant spirit became shadowed with sorrow. You were like two stars on a collision course, destined to burn out in a blaze of tragic beauty. But even as you destroyed each other, you couldn't imagine life apart. Your love was a prison, but it was also the only thing that made you feel alive.

One night, Tashi and you found yourselves back at the tennis court where your had first met. The atmosphere was hauntingly familiar, the rackets’ mournful wail echoing the ache in your hearts. You played in silence, your souls intertwined, lost in your own thoughts.

Tashi broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had never met?"

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and pain. "Every day," you admitted. "But then I remember that even if it's killing me, I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears welled in Tashi's eyes, and she squeezed the handle of her racket tighter. "I don't know how to let you go," she confessed, her voice breaking.

You walked over to her and pulled her into your arms, holding her as if you could keep the world at bay. "Maybe we don't have to," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe this is just who we are."

As you held each other, rain started to fall, a fitting soundtrack to your story. You were two souls entwined in a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive, unable to break free yet unable to truly be whole together. And so, you remained, locked in a tragic embrace, bound by a love that would forever be your greatest joy and your deepest sorrow.

[jamminvroomvroom]

Soft oscar piastri smut pleasssse

okay i cannot write oscar smut bc my brain cannot process that yet but hopefully this will suffice.

this is just a little blurby angsty (not really) fluffy thing about how oscar’s weekend ended

i wrote this in 10 minutes so i’m sorry if it sucks lmao - thanks for sending this in! sorry it’s not exactly what you asked for <3

“i don’t know what he was doing. i was there and he just turned in like i didn’t exist.”

your heart sank as his radio message filled your ears, bleeding through the static of the headset that you wore at the back of his garage. you were devastated for him, devastated that his race was taken out of his hands after the triumph of the day before.

you waited anxiously, headphones slung onto the table before you in frustration, looks of sympathy and disappointment being traded between you and his father. just a day earlier you had been jumping for joy together in the papaya illuminated space.

oscar finally appeared, his frame stood in the entrance to garage, illuminated by the dull spa sunlight shielded from earth by the low, dark clouds. he looked deflated, not that anyone would ever be able to tell. he was a stoic, never giving much away, but you could tell, the slight furrowing of his eyebrows and the way his shoulders drooped ever so subtly. he was a master of keeping his guard up, a professional at keeping his emotions to himself. maybe that’s why it had taken him a year and a half to finally ask you on a date.

you could see him looking for you over the shoulder of his race engineer, finding you in the sea of frustration as the team coped with oscar’s dnf and lando’s catastrophic fall through the field. you winked at him, nodding your head, a promise that you’d find him later after the cameras and the journalists went to find sainz, who would inevitably have to retire as well.

neither of you liked the drama, the publicity spotlight being shone onto your very private, very intimate relationship. you loved him, he loved you, and no one else needed to be involved. you didn’t need the hate, the gossip, the toxic spiral of being branded as a wag, it didn’t suit you and it definitely didn’t suit your boyfriend. public but private, that’s how you both liked it.

you craned your neck, signalling that whenever he wanted you, you’d be waiting patiently in his driver room, ready for comfort and consolation.

and so, as he did the media rounds and cracked a few dry jokes, you slipped away, entering the hospitality building. you laid out his team kit so he could change quickly, wanting to handle the little things while he processed the harsh reality of his race ending 43 laps earlier than it should have.

you fell deep into thought, trying to plan what you would even say to him, not quite being able to sympathise with the f1 circus in any kind of depth yet. but if you weren’t a driver yourself, would you ever really be able to understand him? would anyone? it was something that you struggled with constantly, unsure of what to say, of how to comfort him. you were startled back to the reality when the door swung open, your boyfriend trailing into the room, quietly frustrated.

he just stood there for a second, looking at you like he was lost. you didn’t breathe a word, silently opening your arms for him, and it was as if you’d flipped a switch in him, because he was instantly in your arms. his head nestled into your shoulder, and he exhaled so deeply that you wondered if he’d been able to breath since he got out of the car. the way he relaxed into you made your stomach twist, a sense of calm settling over the pair of you. this was a side of him that no one ever got to see apart from you and that’s what made it feel beautiful. this wasn’t the bored, unintentionally hilarious, sarcastic star boy that was presented to the world, this was your oscar.

“do you know what they’re saying about you?” you whispered into his neck, feeling him shiver as your breath fanned his flushed skin.

he groaned in response, as if he didn’t want you to give him the inevitable pep talk that was coming his way.

“the best rookie since lewis hamilton. lewis fucking hamilton. that’s who they’re comparing you to. baby, you led laps yesterday. no other rookie has done that in years.”

“but i ruined it, fucked up the weekend.” he mumbled into your shoulder, still a shell of his usual self.

“one dnf doesn’t define you, not after all of that. everyone is gutted for you baby, no one is blaming you for it, you ran out of road. it was just a-“

“don’t say it.” he deadpanned.

“it was just an inchident.” you finished, smugly. oscar pulled himself away to face you, rolling his eyes. you cupped his face, brushing your nose against his. “i am so proud of you, you know that right? defying all the odds and everything they said about you last year.” you signed off your speech with a kiss pressed softly to his nose and finally, his awkward smile that you loved so much returned.

-

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎImpossible౨ৎ꣑ৎ

(requested)(@kayleigh--23) [fem reader] contains: slow burn, angst, death, depression, fire, mentions of sexual assault, non-consensual touch, abandonment, jealousy, mentions of violence, childhood friends to lovers, reader's nickname is 'Daisy'. pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you and billy grew up together, and when he skips town, you're devastated. tragedy throws the two of you together again, and you're forced to confront your longtime feelings for him. author’s note: I switched up the timeline to work a little better with the story and the ages/stats may not be quite show-accurate but oh such is life. There's a little bit of Spanish in here that is not google translated, but I am not a native speaker so be warned. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

For as long as you could remember, you'd been counted as one of the boys.

Your older brother Joe was the only sibling you had, and in the town the two of you grew up there weren't many options for friends your age. Most of the girls around those parts were socialites in training that were far older than you and the boys teased you too much, so you usually wound up going wherever your brother did.

Joe had an easygoing nature, and naturally he got on well with an abundance of the boys his age, both as a child and a young man. But his best friend by far was Billy, a dark-haired Irish immigrant who you'd known ever since his family moved to town. He and you had bonded at first over your respective brothers having the same name, then over riding and horses.

When you were younger you often tagged along when Billy and Joe would go off to play their games, and neither of them minded you. You usually kept to yourself anyways, playing games of silent make believe with pretty rocks you'd find along the trails. Sometimes they'd rope you into whatever they were doing, and you obliged, just happy to be a part of the fun.

As you all got older, Billy and Joe's games turned into handling guns, and you learned too, since your circles were so limited. You'd spend hours in the sun shooting cans off fence posts. It was a freeing thing- to be out there in the wilderness and not worry about what you should or shouldn't be doing.

The girls in town would poke fun at you for hanging out with boys but you paid them no mind for the most part. You'd take your worries over theirs any day.

The years were spent climbing trees and hopping fences to steal apples, always laughing, always content. You felt that you wanted for nothing. You had a father and brother who loved you, and a friend in Billy. What more could you possibly need?

Billy was over at your house for dinner a few times a week, laughing and joking with you and Joe like he'd been born into it. Your father was fond of him as well, treating him like one of his own. And you always thought of him like that too, like another brother, just as good as Joe.

But when you were sixteen and Billy was seventeen, something switched.

Joe was off doing something for your father, so it was just you and Billy that evening. He'd suggested riding since it was sunny out for the first time in a while, the rain having taken up a great deal of the springtime. You'd agreed and off the two of you went, exploring the prairie with the vigor only the young possess.

"Think you can race me to that tree?" you asked, nodding at it on a hill in the distance.

"You bet, but don't cry when ya lose Daisy." He called you by your nickname, grinning as he did. As a child you'd been obsessed with the little white flowers, picking them and putting them everywhere. He'd started calling you by that name and hadn't stopped.

"You wish!" Tugging on your horse's reins, you were off, the wind in your hair, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you as you kept your eyes on the horizon. Billy was fast, but you liked to think you were faster. You'd been riding this horse since you were young.

Easily you reached the tree before he did, and he groaned good naturedly, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a low branch. You were about to do the same when he suddenly reached up, grabbing you around the waist, hauling you off the horse and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise and he stumbled, sending the two of you rolling down the hill. You tumbled together, shrieking with laughter as you reached the bottom.

He did the gentlemanly thing and made sure you landed on top of him, your face buried in his chest as you laughed.

"Well, I know you won but I damn sure didn't lose," he laughed, one of his arms landing on your back.

And in that moment, when you looked up, hair in your face, and saw Billy's bright blue eyes piercing yours, it hit you.

You loved him.

He reached over to tuck a strand behind your ear and your heart fluttered, a little smile growing. "I dunno, I think seeing your face when you tripped was the best prize of all."

He laughed and sat up, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. "I guess we're both winners then."

Then he stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, the feeling of his warm fingers making your stomach flip. He held your hand as you walked back up the hill, and you tied your horse on the same branch as his so the two of you could sit in the shade of a tree. You let him talk aimlessly, distracted by your new discovery.

Suddenly you were noticing how handsome he was, how his hair fell in little curls on his forehead, how his skin was slightly tanned with a freckle here and there, how his smile was endearingly just a little crooked. And his eyes, the color of a clear sky. You were wholly enamored by him, and he had no idea.

He chattered with you for a while as you mused over it all. As the two of you watched the sunset, he reached over and picked a wildflower, placing it in your hand.

"For you," he said, his charming smile directed at you.

You treasured that memory every night after that.

From that point on, you were unsure how to act around him. He would joke around with you like usual and you responded in the like, but now with subconscious battles waging. Did he like you too? Were you just a little sister to him? What would Joe think?

All the things you normally did with him and Joe were now overthought on your part. You felt self-conscious now about going swimming with them in the lake, because you'd be wearing your white chemise and they were shirtless in their underwear. The underdress stuck to your body when you swam, clinging to your newly grown breasts and wet skin. Joe didn't pay any mind to it of course, but you could see that Billy noticed. Does that mean something?

Shooting was still fun, but one time when you missed and he stepped in to correct your form, you felt your breath hitch at his body being so close to yours.

You nursed the crush on him for a year, trying desperately to act normal around him so he wouldn't notice.

When your father died suddenly, you didn't have time for such things anymore. Joe stepped up to take over the ranch, and you did too, balancing books and managing the workers. You lost several nights of sleep trying to learn how to run everything properly. Your mother was long gone and your brother was taking care of the more physical aspects, so the responsibility fell on you.

Billy still came around to help out, but you were so busy you barely noticed. A part of you mourned it, the lost time. Because even tragedy couldn't squash feelings.

One day, he came over with a bunch of wildflowers, smiling as he handed them over. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I just...I thought you could use somethin' pretty," he said, his blue eyes earnest.

You'd nearly burst into tears at the gesture, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist, careful not to squash the blossoms. "Thank you," you murmured, pulling back and kissing his cheek. "They're beautiful."

There was that charming smile again, melting your heart. "Thought of you when I saw 'em, you know cause they're-" he cut himself off, looking down and shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad you like 'em Daisy."

"How's your mama doing?" you inquired softly. His mother was sick, last you'd heard, with the same illness that had taken his brother.

Billy sighed, his emotion making him seem a hundred instead of eighteen. "She's hangin' in there."

"Good," you said, giving him a half smile. "Give her a kiss for me. She's the sweetest lady around these parts."

"Yes'm," he nodded. Then, he reached one of his hands up to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes with all the sincerity you'd ever seen from him. His palm was rough, and you liked the feeling, unable to help leaning into it as you gazed up at him. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed your cheek, the little bit of stubble he had scratching against your soft skin.

Your smile was pure. "Was that from your mama?"

"No," he said, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "That was from me."

Billy kissed your forehead, holding your head close to his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. As he left, his fingers trailed down your cheek, chucking you under the chin. "I'll see ya 'round, Daisy."

And then he trudged down the stairs, off to his horse to leave. You stood there on the porch, leaning against the railing for a moment and watching him get on his horse. Lifting your fingers in a wave, you watched him tip his hat before riding away.

You were distracted all night, frequently looking over at the wildflowers you'd put in a vase on your desk. His kisses played over and over again in your head like they were the only thing in it. When Joe came home, he asked what had your head in the clouds and you just said you had a good day. No need for him to know his best friend was kissing you, even innocently.

Billy's mother passed away one lonely night, and your heart ached for him like it hadn't for anyone else. Whenever you saw him after that, he carried a subtle melancholy that one had to know him to notice.

Joe noticed, you knew, and so he distracted Billy, frequently meeting up with him and another friend of theirs. Jesse was an outrageous flirt, but good with a gun, and the other two boys liked his company well. You didn't know if what they got up to was legal, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, staying home and managing things there.

You'd catch a glimpse of Billy every now and then and remember that night on the porch, wondering if that was what he thought of when he saw you too. The nights were lonely when Joe was out with them, which was almost every night, and you longed for simpler times before anyone died. You yearned for the luxury of your young love for Billy because everything was different now. Childhood was over.

It seemed everywhere you looked a memory burst from your fingertips, the surfaces you touched more than senses. You mourned the loss of Joe, Billy and you. Those carefree wonderful children. It was all gone now.

On a rainy night in August, you were still in this haze, trapped in the past you could never reclaim. It was unusually chilly for this time of year, so you were sitting near the fireplace, trying to warm both your body and your heart. It was late. You'd been hoping Joe would come home soon but as the clock ticked, you realized it'd be another late night for him. You felt yourself growing tired, so you stood up, intending to go to bed.

Just as you started for the stairs, there was a heavy but frantic knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be here this late?

You went to the door, opening it hesitantly, taken aback when you saw Billy on the other side. He was shivering, dripping water onto the porch. His eyes almost seemed like they were frozen in time, stuck on something he'd seen that'd change him forever.

"Billy?" you breathed, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"'M sorry Daisy, 'm sorry for comin' here," he muttered, his teeth chattering.

You shushed him, bringing him to sit by the fire and spreading a blanket out for the two of you. He kicked off his boots before sitting beside you, his arms tight around himself to try and keep warm. The heat from the fire helped him loosen up after a moment, his shoulders relaxing, but only a little.

Your face shrouded with worry; you leaned closer to him. "Billy? What happened?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he was trying not to cry. You'd never seen him like this. Not when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was ten, not when he'd stepped on a bee the same year. Hell, not when his brother and mother died within such short time of each other. But now, now he was broken. He was falling apart just as you'd been for the past few months.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight, and he buried his face in your shoulder. His arms wound around your waist, holding you snug to him. The front of your dress was getting wet because he was still soaked, but you didn't care, your body falling perfectly into his as you did your best to comfort him.

After a while of silence, he pulled back, just looking at you. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes looked bluer than you'd ever seen them. His lips parted, and his gaze was intense. Apparently tonight was the night for firsts, because this was another way you'd never seen him. His hands came up to your face, touching your cheeks hesitantly like he was afraid you'd disappear. One of his hands fell back to your waist, and you shivered slightly at the touch, unable to help yourself.

Billy's other hand slid to the back of your head, in your hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. He was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. You felt a pull in your heart, an urge to be closer, to be with him. It was impossible to remember what was lost now when he was right in front of you.

"Daisy." He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing softly, saying your name so quietly it felt like a prayer, a plea.

"Billy," you breathed, searching his eyes. You thought you knew every part of him, but you didn't know what he was going to do next.

So, when he kissed you, it was a supernova.

His lips crashed into yours, hot despite his trembling, needy in light of whatever the hell he'd been through that night. You'd never been kissed before, not like this. He was starving, desperate, and you had never wanted him more.

The hand in your hair pressed you closer to him, and you saw it all in his eyes when he pulled back slightly, the burning within him. Your hands framed his face, you leaned in for another kiss, and this time it didn't stop.

Before you knew it you were on your back, tearing at his shirt buttons. He shouldn't be wearing his wet clothes anyway. You did not think about Joe coming home, you did not think about the past for the first time in so long. His hands were on you too.

He caressed your body like he'd created it. Billy must have smoothed you out with his fingers, because you had never seen yourself the way you were reflected in his eyes. You had imagined doing this with him, of course, but here the line between fact and fiction became blurred. Is this real?

When he fastened his lips to the pulse point on your neck you gathered it was.

His fingers nimbly tugged at the top buttons of your dress, pushing open the folds to reveal your chest, which seemed to spur him on. Within minutes the garment was tossed elsewhere, his clothes were somewhere else, and his body was weighing on top of you in ways you never knew could be erotic. Skin against skin. Lips locked in a hungry dance. Limbs so tangled you didn't know whose was whose.

The windows fogged up from the rain, or your combined heavy breathing, you weren't sure when you were done. You were still knotted with him, his skin warmed from the fire. Billy traced shapes on your face with his calloused fingers, watching you tiredly with a fascination you'd never imagined could have related to you.

His gaze was very nearly adoring. You had dreamed of him looking at you like that. And now here the two of you were, side by side facing each other after doing the most intimate thing anyone could do. He was perfect in this light, the warmth from the fire making him glow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his finger trailing lightly down your cheekbone. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

"How do you know?" you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking.

He seemed to understand anyways, leaning forward to capture your lips with his again, his kiss tender and sweet.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes. "What does this mean?"

Billy was quiet, holding your face in his hand. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again and you knew. He loved you too.

He pulled you close against him, so your head was resting on his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin. His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you into sleep. You felt more comfortable, more loved than you had in a long time. In the morning you'd ask him more, you decided as you drifted off. You didn't want to ruin the quiet peace you finally held in your hands, his underneath, supporting it.

Sometime in the night, your peace shattered, and when you woke up he was gone.

The fire was burnt out. It had stopped raining. You were still lying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, but someone had taken the other half and folded it over you. Billy.

You held the edge of the blanket to your nose. It still smelled like him. Confused and dazed, you sat up and looked around. Obviously, Joe hadn't returned home because he would have thrown a fit over you sleeping naked in front of the fire. Your dress was folded messily by your side. There were dried boot prints on the wooden floor, the only shred of evidence that someone else had been there.

If you hadn't been naked, you would have thought you made the whole thing up. Billy, whom you'd loved for years, had stumbled upon your doorstep and cried in your arms, then made love to you? The notion was impossible, and yet you remembered every second of it.

You sat awhile there, the blanket around your legs, just reliving the night, before you decided you had better get up before your brother came home.

You waited anxiously for Joe, jumping to your feet when he walked through the door, hanging his hat. It was almost dark. He greeted you, looking tired.

"Joe?" you asked, standing subtly near him as he sat down, running a hand over his face.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"Have you seen Billy at all today?" you asked casually, fidgeting with your fingers.

He looked somber as he met your eyes. "Billy left town."

It felt like you'd been knocked off your feet. Your heart pounded in your ears, your face going pale. "What do you mean he left?" There was a hint of desperation in your voice, but you didn't care.

"He's gone, little," Joe said drily, looking up at you. He looked so defeated, and it broke your heart.

Still, your breath shuddered as the gravity of the situation hit you. Billy was gone. Really gone. You didn't ask Joe how he knew, just sank into a chair and blinked back the hot tears that stung your eyes. He'd kissed you, performed an act of love upon you and then left.

Joe took pity on you, putting his arms around you and hugging you tightly, despite the fact you knew he was hurting too. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

He knew you missed him. You wanted him to come back. He didn't know what you and Billy had shared the night before, didn't know how truly his best friend had hurt you.

You clutched at Joe and let a tear slip down your cheek, coming to terms with it all. It was likely you'd never see him again.

And in that moment, you felt the last threads of the childhood you'd been grasping at slip into the darkness. It was quiet, which was somehow worse than screaming.

You gathered the papers on the desk, stacking them neatly in a pile and putting your pen down. Being hunched over a desk all day was certainly draining, and you knew some fresh air would be just the thing. It was a springy June day, and you'd been yearning to escape the confines of your work as long as you'd been awake.

The house was quiet, as it'd been for months. Joe, as a way to make a little more money, had joined Jesse's gang, assuring you it was temporary. You'd let him go; confident you could handle things at the ranch by yourself. And you were right. Things were smooth, the banality of it all welcome after the tumultuous few years you'd had.

Jesse's gang was stationed at a hideaway not terribly far from the ranch, but far enough that you didn't go often, preferring that Joe come to you. You always felt like you were walking into the lion's den when you visited, the stares of men who hadn't had women for a long while fixed on you.

So, you stayed. And everything was fine.

You mused to yourself as you left the house, saddling your horse and meandering aimlessly into the trees. The sun was hitting your skin just right, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth. You stopped in a little grove you were fond of, tying your horse and wandering around as you were wont to do.

Coming across a wildflower, you bent and picked it, tucking it behind your ear. There was nobody to see how the blue looked against your hair, but you did it anyway, liking how the gesture felt.

As your eyes caught the other flowers scattered in the grass, your mind wandered to the day on the hill. When he'd picked and given you a flower that looked just like the one behind your ear. You thought of Billy often, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sadness. But today he was only a memory, something nice you got to hold for a little while but was forced to let go of.

You hoped he was well. You always would.

It was unclear how long you'd stayed out when you decided to go back, but that was the beauty of living on your own. You were on your time.

Maybe you'd be able to do some reading tonight, you pondered as you rode back, your horse trotting contently. Fun reading, not ranch reading. You looked forward to the quiet evening in store, happy at the thought of having some time for yourself.

You reached the threshold of the ranch and saw instantly that your plans had been set aflame. Literally.

Flames licked at the walls of your childhood house, consuming the only home you'd ever known. You watched in horror, hands gripping the reins, as a group of bandanaed men, hats pulled low over their faces, rounded up horses and cattle, effectively stealing your livelihood.

You were frozen, eyes wide with fear. Nonononononononono.

One of the men, wearing a blue bandanna, spotted you, and your mind realized it before your body did, so your actions were too slow. You tried to tug at the reins of your horse, but the man was already running toward you, grabbing the saddle and dragging you off.

You screamed, hoping against hope that someone nearby would hear. it was a shot in the dark. Nobody lived less than twenty miles away. The man clapped a hand over your mouth, silencing you and pulling you a little way from your horse. One of his companions, whose bandanna was red, came over to investigate, looking you over with something in his eyes you did not appreciate.

"What do we have here, eh?" he grinned, and you struggled, whimpering in protest, the other man holding your hands behind your back.

"We could probably do somethin' with her too," Blue said, leaning over to study your face. "Pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Your breath quickened as you realized what they wanted to do with you, and you acted before you could think about it. You kicked the Red between his legs, sending him sprawling backwards, and used that distraction to bend your knee, lifting your leg backwards and doing the same to the Blue. He groaned in pain, letting go of your hands, and you stumbled to your horse, mounting her and kicking her into a run.

Your horse galloped across the prairie, the wind blowing your hair back, hot tears running in rivers down your cheeks as you charged to the only place you knew you could go.

You had to stop to sleep at one point, and it was a restless night hidden in the trees. For food you stole berries from the bushes, thankful for your childhood that'd taught you which ones were good. You used your hands to scoop water from the creek.

Mercifully, you made it through the night without being kidnapped, and continued on to Jesse's hideaway, making it there about mid- afternoon. Your legs were sore from being atop a horse for hours, but you were afraid to stop longer than you had to.

At last, you could see the hideaway over the hill, and you rode desperately, stealing through the entrance. You could see a man standing at the water pump, and you prayed it was Joe, or even Jesse, someone. You jumped from your horse, tying her up on a fence post and running to him.

As you got closer, you could see it wasn't Joe or Jesse, but you kept moving toward him. Even if it was a new recruit, he could tell you when your brother would be back. You could pick out his features the closer you got, his dark hair, his tall build. The man heard you approaching and turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw who you were.

You halted in your tracks, a few yards away from him, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your breast, both from the ride and the shock.

"You're so beautiful", you remembered, the words echoing through the hallowed halls of your memory. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

He took a careful step toward you. "Daisy?"

The name only he'd ever called you on his lips after forever of not seeing him was the breaking point, and you burst into tears, running into his arms.

Billy held you against his chest, his arms secure around your shaking body. He whispered soothing things to you as you cried and clung to him like a lifeline. He dug his nose into your hair, kissing the top of your head. As he did, you wondered if it was a way of comforting you, or a gesture because he'd missed you. Maybe it was both.

"Shh, Daisy," he soothed, one arm around your waist, rubbing your back, the other at the back of your head, holding you to him. "You're gonna make yourself faint. Deep breaths now, c'mon."

He demonstrated for you, breathing in deep through his chest, the motion moving your body with him. You copied him, feeling your heart rate slow down and your mind clear a little, giving you refuge from the utter panic that'd been raging for the past twenty-four hours.

"That's it, just like that," he muttered, running his hand through your hair. "Everything's alright, you're safe. I've gotcha."

You let yourself relax into him, breathing softly for a moment and savoring him. You'd missed Billy, you knew that. But being in his arms again reminded you just how much. The envelope you thought you'd thrown away was torn open.

"You wanna tell me what's got ya so upset now?" Billy murmured against you, rocking you back and forth slightly, still holding you tight to him.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. He lifted a hand and caught a tear that had trembled its way down your cheek. "It's alright Daisy. You can tell me."

"Another gang," you choked, remembering everything. "They set the house on fire. Took all the horses 'n cattle. There's nothing left..." At that last part, your voice went high and trailed off as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down your face. Billy paled, his eyes widening.

"Oh Daisy." He squeezed you tight to him, letting you cry. "Daisy, Daisy...'m so sorry. Musta been awful..." Billy pressed his lips to your hair again. "'S okay. You're safe now."

You stood there with him, realizing his arms were the only thing in the world that could comfort you. You never wanted to leave the safety of them. Oh, how you'd missed them, missed him.

"You left me Billy," you breathed, unable to help it.

"I know sweetheart," he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips as if he'd always said it. It warmed your heart.

"You left Joe too."

"I did."

"We needed you."

"I needed you too," was his quiet response. You looked up from his chest, searching his eyes when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

"Who's this?" When you turned to see who it was, through teary eyes you saw a woman with brown hair holding a pot standing a few feet away. You found her rather pretty, but still furrowed your brow, confused. Joe had never mentioned a woman around, and you'd certainly never seen her before.

Billy told the woman your name, and maybe it was your imagination, but his arms seemed to stiffen a bit around you, holding you in closer. "Her brother's Joe."

"Ah, I see," the woman said, eyeing you. You gave her a little smile, not really in any position to meet new people. Still, you wanted to be friendly. It wasn't her fault you were homeless.

"Daisy this is Barbara," Billy said, nodding at the woman, who was still studying you. Her eyes lingered on the way you clung to Billy, seeming to pick up on the familiarity between the two of you.

"Hello," you said shyly, still wary of letting go of Billy. He didn't seem to mind, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

She didn't say hello back.

Billy looked up into the distance, and you heard the distinct sound of several hooves on the earth. The gang was back.

You let go of Billy and turned to watch them ride down the hill, spotting Joe instantly among them. Jesse was at the head, whooping and hollering as was usual. Billy kept a protective hand on your shoulder as the gang dismounted, seeming to know without you telling that you didn't exactly feel safe around most of them.

Joe ran up as soon as he saw you, pulling his bandana down. "What're you doin' here little?" Then he saw the tear tracks on your face. "What happened?"

He held out his arms and you fell into him. Joe hugged you tightly, albeit confusedly. "You shouldn't be here, you oughtta head back home-"

"Ain't no home to head back to Joe," Billy cut him off, folding his arms, his eyes on you.

Joe looked down at you, frowning. "What's he mean?"

You told him what happened, and his face fell. Even if he'd been absent lately, he'd grown up in the same house, held the same memories you did. He hugged you again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little."

You sniffled, shaking your head. "I'm just glad I got away in time."

"Me too," Joe said, concernedly looking over you for injuries. "Ride over was alright? Didn't hit any trouble?"

"No," you shook your head again. "I had to stop and sleep, but when I rode in Billy was right there and-"

You'd looked over at Billy as you said it, but you cut yourself off when you saw his face. He wasn't watching you anymore. His eyes were on Barbara, who was in the middle of a nice long kiss with Jesse.

That look. You knew it not only because you'd spent half your life reading him, but because you'd felt it before, when you'd seen him flirt harmlessly with girls in the town you grew up. Jealousy. And a tinge of heartbreak. Mixed with that, hidden slightly beneath that was something else. Another thing you'd seen before. That slight, subtle look of possession.

You'd only seen it one time, and that time happened to be a certain night by the fireplace, right after something you'd only dreamed of sharing with him before.

And that's when it hit you.

He'd slept with her.

Billy had offered you his room, but you'd refused, opting to wait in Joe's for him. You didn't want to look at Billy right now.

When your brother finally came in, you sat up straight, looking at him expectantly. He held up a dress. "Took a bit of convincing, but this is one of Barbara's. You can wash the one you're wearing." He scratched his neck. "Me 'n some of the boys'll go back to the house 'n see if there's anything to salvage in a bit. Just in case."

You took it from him, holding it in your lap. It was blue, not the most flattering but you didn't care.

"Any news?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

"We sent a letter," Joe said, sitting down next to you. "All there's to do now is wait. But don't hold your breath. The law ain't fast around here."

"Thank goodness for you," you muttered, and he half-grinned, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the way we like it," he said, looking down at his hands.

You were quiet for a moment before you asked, "When did Billy get here?"

Joe hesitated. "'Bout a week ago. Jesse found him passed out in the desert. Left him here with Barbara to get him healthy again while we rode out." He looked up at you. "I was gonna tell you."

"It's okay," you said, meaning it. "There wasn't any time to tell me between you leaving and...this." A familiar wave of grief passed over you as you thought about everything again. "When did Barbara join the gang? I've never seen her before."

"Jesse found her two months back," Joe explained. "Took a real liking to her. She was runnin' away from her folks. Seems they ain't nice people."

"And Barbara and Jesse're...?" you let your question trail off.

Joe laughed. "Yeah. If what I hear through the walls is any indication."

"Ah." You didn't tell Joe what you knew about her and Billy, even though hearing this confused you. Billy must have slept with her while the rest of the gang was gone. Joe wouldn't know why it had any significance to you.

Joe nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder. "You can stay here for a while, little, until we get things figured out. I'm sure Barbara'd be happy to have some help 'round here."

You weren't too sure Barbara would be happy to have anything to do with you at all, but you didn't tell Joe this, instead forcing a smile and nodding. "Okay."

"Good," Joe said, standing up from the bed, the loss of his weight making the springs creak. "I'll leave ya to get changed." He shut the door behind him.

You peeled your short-sleeved dress from your body, also in a light blue color. It'd been one of your favorites, and you were thankful it'd been spared from the fire.

Barbara's dress fit you well. It wasn't as stylish as yours, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. At least it was clean.

You took your dress outside to wash, scrubbing it of dirt and sweat and whatever else you'd encountered on the way over. When it was hanging out to dry, you wandered to a nearby tree, leaning against it and looking out at the plains for a moment. It was a sunny day, and you enjoyed it the best you could despite the circumstances.

The tree's branches were low enough for climbing, so you hauled yourself up, legs swinging as you sat on a branch midway from the top, leaning against the trunk. The bark was scratchy against your skin, but you paid the sensation no mind, just staring at the clear sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass below you. You didn't turn your head to see who it was. Call it a sixth sense but you always knew when he was near.

Billy scaled the tree to sit on the same branch, leaning back on another one just a little higher than yours. Of course he'd want to talk to you.

"Joe 'n the others left for the house," he said, but you didn't turn your head, still watching the clouds.

"I didn't stay to see how far the fire got," you said quietly. "I don't know if there's anything worth saving."

"Still." Billy shifted. "They'll be back tomorrow mornin'."

You turned your body to face his, so your back was fully against the trunk. In your frenzy earlier, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd grown in his time away from you. He seemed sturdier, surer of himself. His hair was a little bit longer, his skin a little more weathered. And he was handsomer than ever. "You didn't go with 'em?"

"They figured I'd best not show my face 'round those parts just in case," he said, half smiling. "Y'know, cause of last time I was there."

You were quiet, still looking at him, and his smile dropped. "You don't know."

"Last time I saw you was when we..." you trailed off, biting your lip. "You didn't tell me anything, just-"

"I'm sorry for that, Daisy," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for sleeping with me?" you asked, your voice's tone heightening pathetically.

"No," Billy shook his head instantly. "Not that...never that. I'm sorry for takin' advantage of you. For not tellin' you what was goin' on."

"What happened?" you asked, your voice desperate. You looked at him with all the hurt that had festered in your being for months. "You slept with me and then left. I was so worried..." your breath hitched, and you looked away.

"Daisy," he murmured, reaching for your hand, but you moved it to your face, running a hand over it. Billy sighed, and you could feel it, the weight of whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been. "The night before...Jesse'd-" he cut himself off for a moment. "Jesse'd talked me into doin' somethin' real stupid. Somethin' that got me arrested. I'd escaped from jail the night I came to see you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. Given the ranch had been a little way from town, you didn't often hear of news like that, mostly keeping to yourself. Of course you wouldn't have known. "Billy..."

"I'm a wanted man, Daisy," Billy breathed, his blue eyes piercing yours. "I've been in another county for a while, and then I got into some more trouble and left. Got robbed somewhere in the desert and Jesse found me 'n brought me here. That's all there is to it." He brought his hand to your face, then through your hair so he was holding you there. The feeling of his big hand there was familiar, comforting.

You sniffled a bit, closing your eyes for a moment to feel it. Everything made sense now. The way he'd come to you, the reason he'd left. But it'd still hurt you.

"That night," you said softly, your eyes still glued to his. You couldn't have pulled away if you tried. "What we did...did it...mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes earnest. "Of course it did Daisy...I'd never..." he swallowed. "You've been on my mind a whole lot since I left."

His words made your heart soar with hope, but then you remembered Barbara, and it plummeted back to earth. The realization lowered your voice. "I've thought about you too Billy."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." You looked down. "I missed you."

Billy wordlessly moved closer to you on the branch, drawing you into his arms. He kept his hand in your hair, his favorite place it seemed. He held you to him for a bit, and you relaxed for the first time in a day.

Holding you against him still, he asked, "What exactly happened at the ranch Daisy?"

"I already told you." Your words were muffled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I know that ain't all that happened," Billy said, pulling you back a little so he could look at you. "I know you. There's somethin' else."

You thought with a tiny shudder of the men who'd grabbed you, and what they would have done to you if you hadn't gotten away. "No. I told you everything."

"Daisy." His voice was firm, and you knew he meant it.

"Billy," you said back, leaning into his chest again. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." You were thankful he didn't ask any more questions.

You spent the night in Joe's room since he was absent, and all the while you thought about Billy. And Barbara. Was she in his bed right now, or was he in hers? Would you wake up to the sounds of them doing something you didn't even want to think about? Eventually you fell asleep, tortured by what you'd make up.

When you woke in the morning, you donned your dress that had dried out over the porch yesterday and went outside, looking for anyone. You spotted Barbara at the water pump and made your way over, standing shyly in front of her. "Hello."

She looked at you, giving you a once over that seemed to be her habit. "Hello."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. She intimidated you, and it wasn't just because you knew about her and Billy. There was a certain element about her that caused you to retreat into your shyer tendencies.

Barbara paused for a moment, thinking. "You can fry the eggs in the kitchen for the three of us. And wake Billy. He's a deep sleeper."

You knew that, and for some reason it hurt that she did. Nodding, you turned around and went right back to the house, slightly bothered by your interaction with her.

When you got to the kitchen you decided to make the eggs first, hoping the smell would rouse Billy from sleep. When the food was plated and he still hadn't appeared, you sighed and went to his bedroom, the only door that was closed.

He was shirtless as he slept, lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The sheets were pulled to his waist, revealing the messy outline of his legs. Billy looked pretty when he was asleep, but you always thought him pretty.

You sat on the bed, contemplating lying down with him. in your experience shaking him rarely, if ever worked. Still, you tried, and unsurprisingly it was not successful.

So, you went with your other idea lying down facing him. Your hand reached out to trace your fingers down his arm. He took in a sharp breath, and instantly you knew he was awake. Billy's arms reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "Daisy," he murmured without opening his eyes.

"You gotta wake up Billy," you said softly, putting a hand on his warm chest. He opened his eyes, almost seeming surprised that you were there.

"'M I dreamin'?" he mumbled sleepily, and you smiled, shaking your head.

"Don't think so." You ran your fingers up and down his arm again. He'd filled out, his muscles were tauter.

He shook his head, seeming to remember something. "Right." Billy loosened his hold on you, but still didn't let go.

His hair was a mess, little dark curls matting his forehead. Your eyes roved over him, catching all the familiar details you'd picked up on from your years together. The way his hair curled by his ears. The tiny birthmark under his jaw. His thick, dark eyelashes.

You ached to touch him, but you didn't, letting him hold you a little longer before you heard the front door open. Barbara was back. Sitting up, you rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, get up. We've got eggs."

Billy grumbled a bit, pawing at you. "Couple more minutes?"

"Uh uh, get up," you said, getting off the bed and leaving, shutting the door behind you.

Barbara was in the kitchen when you came back, eating already. She nodded at you. "Thanks."

You gave her a tiny smile. "You're welcome. Least I can do for you lettin' me stay."

She half smiled dryly at you. "It'd be a sorry sight if I kicked Joe's sister out."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you were thankful when Billy walked in, wearing a blue striped shirt. It was one of your old favorites, and you wondered if he'd known that. Likely not.

"Thanks Daisy," he said, grabbing his portion. You all lingered in the kitchen, eating quietly, the only sound being forks scraping against plates.

Barbara put her clean plate on the counter first. "I'm gonna go finish chores. Billy? You comin'?"

He paused. "I was gonna take Daisy for a ride. That okay or do ya need help?"

She looked from him to you, and you looked down at your plate, not knowing if you should say something. "No. That's alright, I'll manage."

And with that she left the kitchen. You looked over at Billy. "Are you sure she doesn't need help?"

"Nah, all this week by the time I got up she usually had everything mostly done," Billy said, putting the last forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously, looking at the door she'd gone out of. "I'd feel bad if-"

"Daisy, it's alright," Billy assured you, seeing your empty plate and taking it, stacking it on Barbara's. "After what you've been through, you're allowed to have a day, alright? 'Specially if your work habits haven't changed since I last saw you."

You smiled at that. "I do kinda get carried away."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "C'mon, let's go. I miss ridin' with you."

You let him pull you to the horses, unable to say no to him, but also because you'd missed it too.

Mounting your beloved horse, you petted her mane softly. She must've been tired after the long ride here, but now after a good night's sleep she nickered softly at your touch, and you smiled fondly.

You guided your horse to follow Billy's, riding through the open hills and into a forest-like area, with trees and wildflowers blooming from the earth. It was beautiful, and you enjoyed your surroundings as you followed him. It was funny to think that just a day ago you'd been doing this exact thing, with no hope of seeing him again. But now here you were.

Keeping to the routine the two of you had always followed, you tied up your horses and went to walk through the trees together.

"You still ride like this often or did I jump the gun and assume you did?" Billy asked, striding alongside you through the grass.

"I do, pretty often now that I-" you cut yourself off. "When I lived alone."

"You were really livin' by yourself?" Billy asked, peering down at you as you walked.

"Yeah," you said. "Since Joe joined the gang."

"I see," Billy said, keeping his tone even. But you knew he objected to the principle of it. A woman living alone with no male protection.

"I've been fine," you said, trying to convince both of you. "I keep to myself, y'know? I've always liked that."

"Yeah," he said. His eyes looked sad. "But I imagine it still got lonely."

You were quiet for a moment before responding. "In a way."

He half smiled, looking down as you reached a hill, steadying his motions so he wouldn't fall. "Is that what you've been up to the past little bit? Ridin' and bookkeepin'?"

"Pretty much," you said. "I keep a quiet life. Not like you at all, I'm sure."

He chuckled lightly. "It ain't at all like you're imagining, I'm sure."

"Not from what I've heard," you smiled. "Joe filled me in a bit. Billy the Kid, huh?"

"Hey now," he grinned. "It's William H. Bonney now for all intents and purposes."

"What's the H stand for?" you asked, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

"That's enough outta you," he pushed your arm lightly, and you laughed. The two of you stopped under a tree, sitting down in the shade for a bit. Billy settled in next to you, bending down and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You picked a blue wildflower, twirling the stem between your fingers. It was the same color as the dress you'd been loaned, lighter than the one you had on now, lighter than Billy's shirt. "Barbara..."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at you, his chin remaining on your shoulder.

"I like her," you said, and to your surprise, as you said it you found it was true. Despite her stiffness you appreciated what she'd been through, how she'd been able to find her place here.

"You like everyone Daisy," Billy half-smiled, leaning back against the tree.

"I mean it," you said, mirroring his actions and turning on your side to face him. "She's lovely. I can see why you...like her."

"Why'd you say it like that?" Billy asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go there. "I know you slept with her."

He turned his head fully to face you and you looked down at your flower again. Billy used his finger to tilt your chin up. "Daisy how'd you-?"

"The way you looked when she kissed Jesse yesterday," you said softly. "I know you Billy. And that's just how you looked at me after..." You trailed off and looked away.

Billy's arm around you stiffened, but he didn't take it away. "You're right. It did happen once. But...I dunno Daisy," he said tiredly. "I was alone with her after I almost died. The heat of the moment got to me. I didn't know she was with Jesse. And now that you're here-" he paused. "It don't mean what you think it does."

You shook your head. "You're not one to even kiss someone for no reason Billy. I know you care about her."

"She saved my life, of course I care about her," he breathed, meeting your eyes. "But not like you, Daisy. Never like you."

You looked down, feeling emotional. "But you left me."

"Daisy, I had to," he pleaded. "I was wanted, hell I'm still wanted-"

"But you could have told me something, anything instead of making me feel like a warm body," you said, drawing back from him. His arm fell from around you, and he looked at you for a moment, seeming surprised.

But then he nodded somberly. "You're right. You're completely right Daisy. I'm sorry."

Your smile was barely there. "I understand Billy."

Then with that you stood up, going to find your horse.

Joe returned with more than you thought he would have, telling you the fire had consumed a lot of the first floor but not the second. With no structure to stand up on, it had collapsed of course, but he was still able to salvage a few of your dresses, and some of your books.

You'd been thrilled at that, relieved to be able to give Barbara her dress back, thanking her profusely. She'd only smiled tightly and taken it away to wash.

Joe had been right about the law being slow. A week from the fire and you had yet to hear back from them concerning the damage to the property. So, in the meantime, you waited.

In the weeks that followed, you insisted on helping Barbara with the chores and she reluctantly let you. You took your horse out for a ride every day, sometimes without Billy, but more often with.

He started leaving with the gang to help out on jobs. You were surprised to find yourself missing him in the time he was gone. Since Joe was back, he offered you his bed, but you didn't take him up on it, still wary of whatever was happening with Barbara. No matter how casual it may or may not have been, you didn't want to upset her. Even though you could steadily feel old feelings gnawing at you, growing stronger.

You tried to keep a little distance, but it was impossible, his allure drawing you to him naturally. He'd accompany you everywhere; to the well, on your rides. Wherever you were, Billy could usually be found. You knew the rest of the gang noticed, though nobody commented on it. The weeks passed peacefully.

Until one night, when you awoke in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, a dream that felt more like a memory dancing in front of your eyes.

The men...the way they grabbed you...what they would have done to you...

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering with tears. Even though you now knew it was just a dream, the weight of what had happened was collapsing you. You hadn't told anyone about it, even though you knew Billy was onto you.

Your head whipped to Joe, asleep in his bed. He'd offered it to you of course, but you'd declined just as you had with Billy, not wanting to upheave the house any more than you had.

Joe was the best of brothers to you. Still, you didn't want to tell him about the other events of that day. So, you stood up and went to the hallway, hoping the movement would calm your pounding heart. It didn't, which made you panic even more. You ran your hands over your arms, your breathing not slowing down. The house was quiet, so you did your best to keep it that way.

It became evident quickly that you wouldn't be able to calm yourself on your own. You needed someone near you.

Your feet carried you to the room before you knew it, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you. When you turned, you were surprised to see Billy sitting up in his bed, the lantern by his bed lit. He frowned in surprise when he saw you. "Daisy, what-" he caught your fearful expression, your heaving chest. Then he opened his arms, recognizing the situation. "C'mere."

Giving a little whimper, you rushed to him, collapsing into his arms. Billy held you tight to him, and when his hand found its usual place behind your head you nearly sobbed with relief. He opened his knees so you could lie between them, against his bare chest as you cried softly.

"Shh Daisy, easy, easy," he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. "Alright sweetheart, you're safe. You're safe. I've gotcha."

It was the second time he'd used that specific term of endearment, and you clung to him tighter because of it. Billy rubbed your back and rested his cheek against the top of your head. When your crying slowed down, he whispered, "Atta girl, keep it steady f'me? That's it, sweetheart, that's it."

You laid in the comfort of his arms in a haze afterwards, making sure your tizz was well and truly passed. Billy turned you on your side, facing him as he turned on his. He held you in his gaze, one of his arms wrapped loosely under you, the other on your arm, fingers going up and down in a soothing manner.

He reached out that hand, tentatively, and traced your face ever so gently. His roughened finger trailed over your cheek, your hairline, then down your nose. His eyes like the sky followed the path. His palm ended up on your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes locked with his.

"Daisy..." he murmured, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You knew he wanted you to tell him what had happened, why you had stumbled in crying.

"Bad dream," you whispered pathetically, closing your eyes.

Billy said nothing for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, he touched his forehead to yours briefly, a gesture of comfort that worked. "What about?"

You hesitated, sniffling lightly. Telling him sounded dreadful, but it was weighing on you so much that you felt you had no choice. "The day of the fire."

"Ah," Billy nodded respectfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. The more he touched you the better you felt.

"Not about the fire itself though," you said softly.

"Hm?" he prompted, and you wanted to kiss him right then for letting you tell what you wanted.

You closed your eyes briefly before continuing. "The day of the fire...the men who started it..." your voice was becoming higher and more hysterical as you continued, your words pushed together as you tried to get them out as quickly as possible. "They grabbed me...tried to take me somewhere. And one of them touched me-" your voice hitched as more tears fell down your cheeks.

"Oh baby," Billy murmured, and he brought you closer to him, his lips meeting your forehead. Him calling you baby only made you feel safer, more loved. He gathered you closer, so you were pressed right up against him, your hand on his chest. If his hand hadn't already found its place on the back of your head, you would have guided it there. You loved the weight of it, the way it held your face to his chest.

Your hand slid around his chest, under his arm and onto his back so you could hold onto him as well. He nudged his nose against your head, planting another kiss there. Then another. Then another.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he muttered, and you relished the feeling of his big hands on your body with the sole purpose to comfort you. "I'm sorry nobody was there. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's not your fault Billy," you said, tears still adorning your voice. "You couldn't have known-"

"No, Daisy," he said slightly more firmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you all this time. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we shared something so special and then I hurt you because of it. I'm not sorry we did it, but I am sorry for how I was."

You removed your hand from his back, settling it on his own cheek. Your other hand was wedged between your chests, resting against the sheets. "It's okay Billy. It's all okay now."

He took your hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to your fingers. A wisp of a smile made its way onto your face, and you cuddled close to him. Billy held you tightly in his arms. In that moment, you felt as if he could keep the bad dreams away with only that.

From that night on, you slept in his bed.

You'd start out in your usual place on the floor in Joe's room. Then after you fell asleep, you'd slip from the spot and quietly sneak down the hall to Billy's bed and Billy's arms. There were no more nightmares after that.

It was all very innocent. You'd lay side by side, facing each other, limbs tangling tightly. He'd nudge a few kisses against your forehead soothingly. You'd take his hand in yours and guide it to the back of your head if it wasn't there already. And then the you both would fall asleep, nothing bad to report in the morning.

Billy had never been an early riser. He was always the last one to wake up, always finding some kind of excuse to sleep in. It was something you and Joe had teased him for.

But almost every morning you woke to him watching you, his oceans of eyes sleepy, his hair was a mess. He was so pretty in the morning, with the sunlight spilling through his window onto his skin. The first day this happened you realized that this was how you'd imagined you'd wake up on that night you'd spent together.

Those thoughts had been little bits of gold you'd stored in your heart, secrets you thought would die with you. But now they were real.

And even though most mornings he awoke first, some mornings you did.

On that rare occasion, you'd snuggle deeper into his arms, and he'd stir slightly, his arms tightening around you. But most of the time it was him, and you wondered if his habits had changed when he was away. But thinking back to your first morning here, you knew they hadn't.

On a Tuesday about two months into your stay, it was one of those usual mornings, and you were sprawled on your side, facing away from him. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your legs tangled with his. You awoke to a shuffling on the bed, and then an arm twined around you and pulled you closer to Billy's warm chest.

"You're too far away," he mumbled sleepily. You turned in his arms to lie on your side and face him. Billy was on his back, looking down at you with a fond smile. He blinked sleepily, and you moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek onto him.

"Better?" you propped your chin up on his arm.

"Better," he grinned.

You were just about to settle back into him when the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe on the other side. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you cuddled in Billy's arms, in Billy's bed.

"The hell?" Joe looked utterly confused. A little betrayed, maybe.

Sitting up, you attempted to explain. "I know what this looks like-"

"Billy why're you in bed with my sister?" Joe folded his arms, eyebrows raised, tone sharp.

You looked from Joe to Billy, worried something violent would happen. But finally, Billy responded. "Daisy's been havin' nightmares. I was only makin' sure she slept."

"You have?" Joe frowned. "You ain't ever had many nightmares before little."

It was true. Before the incidents surrounding the fire, you hadn't even dreamed often. You didn't want to tell Joe what happened, but you couldn't lie to him. So, you merely nodded.

Joe's face softened. "'M sorry little. You coulda told me, y'know?"

You bit your lip and nodded again.

"But I understand," your brother affirmed, nodding at Billy. "So long as there's no funny business, yeah?"

"None," Billy nodded back. Despite all this, you knew Joe trusted Billy with you, which was saying a lot. Your brother had a habit of being overprotective.

Joe looked between the two of you again and nodded once more, leaving with that and shutting the door behind him. From that point on you went straight into Billy's room every night.

He became a symbol of comfort to you. You knew his arms were open when you needed them. Things fell back into the way they were before, only this time there was something else between you two.

You felt it in every facet of your being with him. When you'd go for walks in the hills together. When you'd wake up in his arms. When he'd shake a little pepper over your eggs before giving you your plate because he knew you liked them that way. When he'd join you under the shade of a tree and rest his head in your lap. Billy was filling in the cracks that had formed over the months. He was patching you whole.

It was unclear if anyone else noticed, but you knew they didn't not notice. The two of you were drawn together. When Billy would come home from jobs with the gang you'd run to him first. Joe would make a little quip about it before hugging you, a cheeky, knowing smile gracing his lips.

Barbara seemed immune to all of this. She continued as she always did, but you still felt bad, like you'd taken something from her. Even though the first person she'd run to was always Jesse.

You tried to let this information soothe you.

The ranch was finally attended to, and you and Joe made the decision to sell the land. It made you a pretty penny despite all the damage from the fire. That night you'd laid silently beside Billy, too sad to say anything. You'd grown up there, hell, Billy had practically grown up there too. But as you thought of the last somber months you'd spent there; you knew it hadn't been the land that made that time special.

You still had what had made it special.

Jesse became anxious about the location of the gang, so he determined it was time to leave the hideaway behind and set out for another town. You welcomed the change, packing away what little you had and following them.

If you were being honest, as long as you had Billy and Joe you knew you'd be fine. So, you left in good spirits. Barbara parted ways with the gang then, taking a job as a schoolteacher in another town. You knew the two of you would never be close, but you still parted with a smile, and a sincere thank you for all she'd done. Maybe it was your imagination, but her smile seemed a little more genuine as you said goodbye.

"People can't help but like ya Daisy," Billy said when you told him about it. He was riding alongside you behind everyone, the hideaway in the distance behind you. "You're sweet. Not likin' ya feels like hurtin' a butterfly."

The analogy made you smile, a little blush gracing your cheeks. The way he looked at you and talked to you made you feel rare.

Once you got to town, Joe came to a conclusion. While the rest of the gang kept rented rooms at a nearby inn, the two of you used the money from the ranch to buy a nice little piece of land nearby, with an old house already on it. You wouldn't have minded staying at the inn, but Joe insisted, saying he wanted something permanent for his sister. Especially now that they all had steady work. And unlike in the past, it was honest.

Billy seemed especially happy about that, chattering eagerly about how good it'd be now that they were working with the law, not against it. It was endearing how excited he was. Despite the picture wanted posters painted of him, he had a gentle heart, and he never wanted to do any wrong.

The only thing you didn't like about this new setting was that you no longer slept beside him, but your nightmares had disappeared into memories, and you determined you'd be fine. Even though you missed his warmth as the fall bled into winter.

He was still a fixture in your life. His presence was still constant. The gang was all at Joe's and your house often, but Billy was there individually even more.

It was a funny thing, what being around him so often did for you. Previously, you had remembered the childhood love you'd had for him, and it had been painted blue. But in the love you felt for him now, you could feel what you'd had before at the roots. It was a flower that you'd thought had shriveled up and died, but now you realized it was simply dormant, waiting to bloom.

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you wanted it to.

It was on your mind one night when Joe and the gang were in the kitchen. You and Billy had ventured out to the fireplace, kneeling close to it and talking. It was eerily similar to that night, the one you'd thought of lately more often than you wanted to admit.

"Do ya think you'll stay here?" Billy wondered, bending his knees to rest his arms on them.

"I don't see why not," you said thoughtfully, his blue eyes drawing yours to them like they always did. "Joe's here, you're here...I can see myself being happy here."

"I think ya are happy here Daisy," Billy said, a little smile coming to his face as he said it. "I ain't seen you this happy in a while."

He was right. You hadn't been this content since your father died. "it's the same for you Billy," you commented, shifting closer to him for warmth. "You're not as restless as you used to be."

"Well, no," he said, grinning as he looked into the fire. "There's lotsa reasons for that."

"Like...?" you prompted, tilting your head playfully.

"Well for starters, I ain't breakin' the law to make money no more," Billy said, and you nodded. "There ain't no pressure to move around so much. But also..." he turned his head to look at you. "Havin' you around. Havin' Joe around. It's made all the difference."

You were quiet for a moment, the sentiment warming you more than the fire ever could. "Having me around?"

"'Course," he said, reaching out and tugging on your arm to bring you closer to him. One of his arms slid around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Ya mean a lot to me Daisy. Ya know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear it," you smiled, settling into his side. "You...you mean a lot to me too. Always have."

"Yeah?" he looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, you're a sweetheart anyways. My sweetheart."

The way he said it implied something else, but you didn't correct him, only lifting your head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes again. The fire was reflecting off his face, making him look softer. You looked from his eyes to his lips. There was that magnetic draw again. "And are you mine?"

He paused, looking like he'd been caught doing something, but then he slowly nodded, searching your eyes. "I've always wanted to be yours."

Your heart fluttered and you thought for a moment you were in a dream. But when he brought his hand to your cheek, you knew you weren't.

Billy acted before you could, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid to its spot in your hair. You melted.

His kiss was brief, but it imprinted itself on your being. You leaned into it, your hand resting on his chest as your lips moved against his. It was so impossible, all of it, and yet.

When he pulled back, you stayed in your haven between his arms. He pressed one, then two light kisses against your soft smile and you saw stars.

Then Joe shouted something from the other room and Billy looked up, sighing and shaking his head. He stood up, bringing you with him. His lips found your brow lightly, a silent promise that you'd talk about this later. Then he took your hand and lead you into where everyone else was. It was good he had a hold on you, because you weren't sure you could have found your way there on your own. The kiss had left you engrossed in a dreamy haze.

He sat at the table with everyone else, and when he saw there weren't any open chairs, pulled you down to sit on his thigh. Joe raised an eyebrow, but that was all. You were content to lean against Billy for the rest of the night.

It was hard to sleep when you tried after everyone left. Billy hadn't kissed you goodbye, but he'd held you close for a bit and said he'd see you tomorrow.

All these months, all this time, you hadn't been sure if he'd held onto the feelings of the past. But you supposed it didn't matter now, because he felt this way right now. He wanted you close to him as you did.

The next day you woke early. You decided to get a few errands done as a way to divert yourself. You'd see Billy later.

It was a pleasant ride into town. The winter sun was warm on your bundled up frame, and you enjoyed it. The snowstorms of late had often kept you indoors, so it was nice to have this pocket of time.

You tied up your horse and went into the general store, a list prominent in your head. Grain, candles, matches-

You halted in your tracks when you opened the door.

There were already customers inside. But you recognized them.

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Before one of them could turn around and see you, you stepped out, heart pounding a hole into your chest. Your ears were ringing with the memory. The world seemed to spin. Why are they here? How did they get here?

Putting a hand to your heart to try and calm it, you looked around, spotting the inn the gang was staying at. Billy, you needed Billy.

You ran across the street, opening the door and realizing you didn't know which room he was staying in. As you wandered in frantically you found it didn't matter. He was sitting at a table with Charlie, talking about something, his back to you.

Charlie saw you though, and must have noticed your distress, because he nudged Billy, nodding at you. Billy turned around, and instantly stood, meeting you halfway and gathering you into his arms. "Daisy, Daisy, what happened? What's the matter?"

He sounded concerned, and you thanked the heavens for him. Your ear was against his heart, the steady thumping soothing you almost immediately. "They're...they're here," you mumbled weakly

"Who's here Daisy?" His hand. His hand on your head. It felt like it could shield you from everything.

You lifted your head, but his hand stayed there. Your breathing was still frantic. "The men...from the fire..."

His eyes darkened. "Where?"

"The general store," you breathed, and he gritted his teeth, looking up at the window. You tugged at his shirt. It was the striped one, the one you'd confessed to him you loved.

He looked back at you, his eyes softening. Then he moved, setting you on the chair he'd been sitting in previously, kneeling in front of you. "I need you to stay here, alright? I don't want you to ride back without me." Billy looked up, at someone behind you and summoned them. "Mrs. Peña?"

An older Mexican woman bristled over, and Billy said something to her in Spanish. She looked at you, looking confused as she responded. He nodded, squeezing your hand and saying something back.

Over the years of knowing him, you'd only picked up on a little Spanish, jealous of his ability to learn the language so easily. As Billy and Mrs. Peña conversed; you only caught a few words. Scared, safe, needs, help.

The older woman gave Billy a fond smile and nodded. He returned it, then turned his attention back to you. He kissed the fingers of the hand he was still holding. "You're gonna stay here, okay? Mrs. Peña and her husband own the inn. They're gonna keep an eye out for you."

"What are you going to do?" you whispered, your eyes wide in horror as you sifted through possibilities.

"Don't pay any mind to it," he said, squeezing your hand from where he was kneeling still. "I won't be long."

And with that, he stood up, kissed your forehead, and beckoned to Charlie, who followed him out the door. Your breaths were still fast as you watched him leave, and then you turned to Mrs. Peña. She gave you a warm smile and took your hand. You accepted it, stood up, and followed her to the kitchen, to a chair close to the sink. She gestured at it. "Sit."

You did as she asked, watching her flit around, preparing and sorting. Trying to remember the right words, you asked her in very broken Spanish if there was anything you could do to help.

She smiled and shook her head, motioning for you to stay. But you insisted. "¿Por favor?"

Mrs. Peña seemed to understand that you needed a distraction, so she took pity on you, waving you over to where she was sorting vegetables.

Billy didn't return for several hours, and so you accompanied Mrs. Peña, helping her with anything she'd let you. She spoke a little English, and you a little Spanish, so you managed. She was a very warm lady, and you felt bad for burdening her, telling her so as you helped her fold sheets in the empty front room that evening. But she shook her head, patting your hand fondly. "Eres una chica dulce."

That made you smile.

It was dark when they came back. You were surprised to see it wasn't just Billy and Charlie, but the entirety of the gang, including Joe. Mrs. Peña gave your hand another pat, and took the folded sheets away, leaving you with everyone. Billy stopped her and whispered something to her that she nodded and smiled at.

You stood up, and Joe came over, putting his arms around you and hugging you for a long time. He smiled sadly when he pulled back. "It's all okay now, little." He looked over at Billy, nodding. "Reckon you'll wanna stay here tonight. I'll bring your horse back." Joe kissed your forehead and left.

The interaction was confusing but touching. You watched your brother leave, questions swirling through your mind like a flurry. Then you turned and looked at Billy, who reached a hand out for you. "C'mere Daisy."

Of course you went to him, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind you and locked it. It was only then that you noticed his knuckles were stained with dry blood.

Gasping in horror, you took the other one in your free hand, holding them up to examine them. "Billy...Billy what did you do?"

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. "It's not all my blood."

That only worried you further. "What on earth were you doing?"

Billy sighed, looking down for a second, reluctant to tell you. "We took care of the men who started the fire. You ain't gotta worry 'bout them anymore Daisy."

"What do you mean you took care of them?" you asked desperately.

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. "That's not for you to know. But it's all okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

You wanted to push the issue, but you realized there was probably a reason he wasn't telling you. So, you gave up. "Okay."

Billy pulled you to sit on his bed, your knees touching, and just watched you, checking for any hint of distress. "How're ya doing Daisy?"

Surprisingly, you found your token answer to be correct. "I'm okay."

He smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "Good. I want ya to be okay."

There was a comfortable quiet for a moment between you two. You didn't want to look at anything but him, didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Right now, he was your center, the very thing keeping you from floating into the sky.

Billy's hand moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. His eyes found yours as he said, "I want you to know I'm always gonna protect ya. You have Joe but ya also have me. You've always had me."

"Always," you repeated softly, and he smiled. His other hand reached up to tuck some of your hair back.

"Daisy..." he started, and you felt it. That fluttering, that warmth in your chest that he only seemed to be the cause of. "Did ya know I've always loved you?"

You tilted your head, waiting for him to explain, ignoring the butterflies sprouting in your heart.

He smiled in a nostalgic way. "You were a friend. A good friend. But I woke up one day and ya just...weren't that anymore."

"How long?" you whispered.

"Years, Daisy," he brought both his hands to your cheeks. "Years 'n years. Dunno if you remember awhile back, but me 'n Joe were comin' back from doin' somethin' in town, trouble probably." He paused to smile, shaking his head. "You were up in the branches of a tree, readin'. Looked real pretty. Think ya had a flower in your hair." Billy breathed a laugh, looking down for a second. "Mighta been a daisy. 'N ya looked up, smiled at me. And I knew I'd love ya forever."

Your lips parted slightly at the confession, and you felt a sweet smile spreading over your face. A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, and you pulled him in, kissing him softly. He made a noise of surprise but indulged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

"I remember that day," you said honestly, looking up at him when your lips parted. "Because a few hours later you asked me to go for a ride and you pulled me off my horse and not only did we fall down the hill, but I fell in love with you."

His smile was radiant, and you didn't need to ask if he remembered. Billy pulled you back in, kissing you fervently. He loved you. You could feel it. No need to wonder anymore. His kisses felt like a promise. I will always love you.

For hours after, there was nothing else but him.

Nothing but him as he kissed you like you were disappearing.

Nothing but him as he lowered you down onto his bed and slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

Nothing but him as he took his time, holding you so gently it made your head spin.

Nothing but him as he dipped his head briefly between your thighs, making your back arch and your hand squeeze around his. He'd given it to you to hold because he loved you.

Nothing but him as you and him did something you'd only done once before, but this time he wasn't going to leave.

Nothing but him as you did something you'd done many times before, nestling between his arms as you fell asleep.

When the morning came you knew it was far from the last one you'd have like this, but you savored it anyways, burrowing into his chest and hiding from the world. He peppered sweet kisses over your face, asking how you'd slept, asking for five more minutes before you both had to get up. And so you gave them to him. And five more minutes. And then another five minutes.

Because you were finally his. And he was finally yours.

Next part

[sejanusarchive]

There’s so many layers to Sejanus being devastated by Marcus’s fate.

He hates how the districts are treated by the Capitol, hates the cruelty of the Hunger Games, he feels the same emotional pain he would have felt being a tribute himself, if not even more, having to watch completely safe from afar, unable to do anything to put an end to the senseless slaughter, while guilt gnaws at him for not risking getting picked to participate himself, for having escaped.

No innocent child deserves that, and it gets even worse when one of the children picked is someone he personally knows, someone he used to share a routine with, someone he used to spend hours alongside in a classroom.

And that child isn’t just someone, that child is Marcus, the kind boy who, while not even being his friend, went out of his way to help him when he got hurt, completely unprompted, just out of the goodness of his heart.

That boy is a testament to what Sejanus already knows, that everyone seems to keep forgetting, which is that humanity at its core is and can be better than how it’s currently behaving. Not to mention how that was probably the last time Sejanus ever experienced an act of such pure, unconditional kindness. And that simple gesture was so impactful on him, it was enough to cement Marcus’s presence in his heart for all those years and then the rest of his life, and it no doubt helped shape Sejanus into the person he became. Someone as good as Marcus shouldn’t be going through all of that, and it drives Sejanus crazy. If the Hunger Games were too much for him to handle before, now that Marcus is involved, they're unbearable.

But there’s more to Marcus. He is also a safe memory to Sejanus, one who undoubtedly often comforted him when he was feeling at his worst. And he’s one of the main things Sejanus thinks about when he thinks of District 2, his home. Home, which despite the fact that he lived there during the war, despite all the suffering he witnessed, despite the reality of the current living conditions there, is still Sejanus’s happy, safe place; it’s the place he belongs to, the place that could fix almost everything for him. But he can never return there. It has to exist only as a memory, kept safely locked away and untouched in his mind and heart.

But when Marcus arrives in the Capitol, he brings his home with him too, he is the physical manifestation of it. Sejanus’s desperation doesn’t just stem from the fact that it’s Marcus, the innocent, kind-hearted boy, undeserving of such cruelty; but also from the fact that that’s his Marcus as well, the one whose existence is synonymous to his home, his sweet boy from his memories, his comfort. Marcus being there doesn’t only mean the pointless, unjust death of a good person, Marcus being there also means the death of Sejanus’s home, its image no longer far away, safe and untouched, kept only in his mind.

Now it’s here and crumbling in front of his eyes. He already knew the reality of things, but it was just that: knowledge. Now he’s face to face with it, face to face with the fact that neither Marcus or his home are or will ever be safe. And, worst of all, he has no way to save them, or anyone else, he’s powerless and completely hopeless against the cruelty of the Capitol, against their fate; and now more than ever, since he’ll have to witness the death of the boy whose memory so often brought him hope before.

In the end all that’s left of both of them, for Sejanus, is a small chunk of marble, made from the same material as his District and carved into the shape of a heart, because that’s exactly where Sejanus’s own is: home with Marcus. We learn he has carried it to his new life in Twelve, immediately before we learn the only pictures he’s taken with him are of his family and his classmates in Two, of him, home for one the last times, standing with Marcus right behind him. That heart is the last physical object connected to Two and Marcus that he’ll have with him for the rest of his life, the last symbol of what he lost and will never get back, of what he couldn’t save or help.

But it’s also the one object connected to them that he brought with him when he regained faith, when he felt like he could finally make a difference and actually help people in the districts; the last symbol that things could still get better and not all hope is lost.

For Sejanus Marcus is a kind and innocent kid; he’s the good in humanity; he’s a safe memory; he’s the marble heart, because he is hope and comfort, and despair and helplessness, and home, and because he is deeply rooted in his own heart

[enigmatist17]

If you told me I would have ever written for Sonic, I would have said you were insane.

Then I saw the trailer for the third movie with Keanu Reeves, and I ended up watching all the live action movies.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

---

He found Shadow in a crater a few days after everything had settled, the hedgehog's chest barely rising and falling. Not too surprising, he'd fallen from space after all, and even being some sort of enhanced super being could only protect you from so much.

Oh, what was he to do?

Be it fortune, be it fate, Shadow had crashed not far from Green Hills, and doubly so, his inhibitor cuffs had landed within viewing range. Step one completed, the battered hedgehog was carefully placed into a blanket and wrapped up, before being transported to the second safest place within this random small town.

The Mean Bean Coffee Cafe.

Stone was exhausted, but knew that Shadow needed to be kept out of sight. While the news of London and the near devastation of the entire planet was still very much a hot topic, footage of Shadow was surprisingly scarce, which would help in the interim. The Wachowski household was, however, the more pressing issue, and while they had come to an unspoken truce about his living here in town, Shadow?

Well, better to be safe than sorry, right?

The cafe was a neutral zone for both parties, and it would be needed once Stone finally got a proper look at Shadow. While he'd been an unstoppable force the days they had worked together towards an annihilation neither of them knew was coming, it was clear his body had given out after surviving something that should have been impossible. Many of his quills were bent or broken, and a quick bout of googling showed him how to remove most of the damaged quills that were beyond saving, though Stone knew he was going to need additional help. What he could help with were the cuts and dried blood that coated quite a bit of his fur, his emergency kit half depleted by the time Stone was done disinfecting Shadow's wounds. After that, he carried Shadow to the bathtub to carefully clean out the remaining ash and dirt from his body, wincing at how brown the water was by the time he finished.

Oh, what a mess.

Shadow ended up being placed on the couch and wrapped up in a spare blanket, bright white bandages peeking out here and there amongst the fabric as the sole human ran a comb through black and red fur. Stone sighed as he gathered up all the quills he had either removed or had naturally fallen free, and decided to send a text to the one vet with experience handling alien hedgehogs.

NUMBER [REDACTED] : I need your wife to come with whatever veterinary equipment she has, I need a trained eye.

The glowing container full of quills made a pretty nifty lantern, and he set it on a shelf out of the way before going to wait downstairs for Maddie Wachowski to arrive. He pretends not to see Knuckles in the front seat of her truck when they finally arrive, which feels like an eternity later. He is merely standing behind the counter with a cup of coffee prepared for her between them, wondering if Knuckles even remembered the shop. He would be a fool to discount the echidna for the warrior he was, not that he had the first time, so he stands still as Maddie cautiously enters the coffee shop with a large bag slung over her shoulder.

"Agent Stone." Was he still an agent anymore? Eh, Maddie didn't really care, as long as he didn't threaten her kids. "Mind telling me why you texted my husband?"

"To be blunt? You have experience dealing with alien hedgehogs, and I don't." The realization crosses her face within seconds, and the grip on her bag tightens momentarily before she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a slow exhale. "I've done what I could, but I'm trained to deal with human biology, not...space hedgehog biology."

Still sounded ridiculous, but they both had long grown used to the creatures that had changed their lives.

"You expect me to help the..." Maddie bit back some curses, well aware that Knuckles could hear her from inside and knew without looking that he was already alert to the news. "Why?"

"...because he's a child who needs help." The two look at each other for a long time without a word, before Maddie slowly reaches for the coffee cup, keeping eye contact as she took a sip. Sonic had told her a little bit about his conversation with Shadow on the moon (the moon oh her kids still surprised her), but Stone must have had access to files and things G.U.N had tried to suppress. "You can leave instructions if you're not comfortable, but I ju-"

"Where is he?" The now empty mug was set down as she waited, gaze turning resolute as Stone moved towards the back room, leading her up and into the shop's upper level. Shadow hadn't moved an inch since Stone had gone to wait for Maddie, still unconscious as Maddie set her bag on the floor beside the couch, tying her hair up before pulling on some gloves. "I need a basin of warm water, just in case, and some towels."

"Right." Stone hurries away to grab the requested items, taking great care to be as quiet as possible when he returns, hanging back to watch the vet at work. While she was clearly a bit uncomfortable around the being that had threatened her family barely a week ago, Stone could see the gentle way she handled his limbs as she used tweezers to remove broken quills and debris he had not caught the first time with practiced ease. It occurs to him after a moment that it might be some time, so Stone retreats back downstairs, heart rate increasing as he crosses to the front door just enough where Knuckles can see him, beckoning the echidna to enter the shop.

"Goat Milker." Stone raises an eyebrow at the moniker, but says nothing after he locks the door behind the warrior.

"....you like grapes, right?" It's a weary question that receives a nod as Stone heads back behind the counter, pulling out a bag from the fridge he'd forgotten to do something with and placing it on the counter. "Have at it."

"How long has Shadow been hiding here?" Knuckles sniffs the fruit before popping one into his mouth, pleased with the lack of potential poison as he begins to slowly snack on them.

"About five hours, give or take." Knuckles stared at the agent before eating another grape, and Stone wondered how the hell a kid could be so unnerving.

"Did the superior hedgehog speak of his survival?" Another grape is eaten, and Stone shook his head, trying not to inch towards the taser Robotnik had built for him just under the counter. It wouldn't do much more than stun Knuckles, and even then, he doubted it would do anything, but it was nice to know he had a tool of potential survival. "I see."

They both remained silent until the sound of Maddie coming down the stairs broke the air, both of them looking over when she emerged with her bag back over her shoulder.

"He's going to need some time to heal, but if he's anything like Sonic, I'd give it a week, two max. You'll need to keep him clean, and I went ahead and left some creams and painkillers. It...it might be best if you contact us when he wakes up, so I can check-in and take it from there."

"Thank you." Stone felt a tiny flicker of relief run through him, but it doesn't linger enough to make an impact on his anxiety. "I know this was an...unpleasant visit for you."

"You have tried to help kill my children at least twice, unpleasant is the only thing I'm going to say in front of Knuckles." Deep breath in, deep breath out, and Maddie feels the rage leave as fast as it arrived when she exhales. "However, you could have done far more, so that is the only reason I even came here in the first place. What I want to know is what are your plans, both with Shadow and yourself? Do I need to worry about you living in town?"

"Honestly?" Stone leaned over the counter to rest his elbows on the table, giving an exhausted look. "I've barely been able to eat, let alone do anything other than basic life tasks, so you can forget the notion of any sort of "revenge". I really don't care anyways, that was more of..." Stone cut himself off with a strangled noise, ignoring Maddie's look as he took a breath. "With Shadow, I'm just going to make sure G.U.N doesn't come snooping around, it's the least I can do for the poor kid."

"..." Maddie mulled over his words for a moment as Knuckles slipped off his seat, standing beside his mother with his arms crossed. "Taking care of kids is a lot of work, keep up your strength or he'll outpace you."

"He already has."

---

Shadow was asleep for another day before he finally came to, and the first thing he smells is coffee. The Professor had let him taste the drink a few times, back when things were different, and it was something Shadow had never forgotten.

Ew Shadow! I don't know how you can drink that stuff, it's so bitter!

This was not the lab, no, this was someone's home that he had been sleeping in, and Shadow felt a slight flicker of fear run through him. The urge to run run run run run is on his mind, but when he tries to do something simple like sit up, his body defying Shadow's wishes by remaining still. His ears twitch when he hears footsteps approaching down a hallway, and quickly feigns sleep right before the person enters the room, his scent familiar, but he can't remember why.

"Still asleep huh? Wish I was that lucky." Oh, it was the younger Robotnik's aide, the one who had stayed by his side until he was abandoned on the planet. Gloved hands lift his right arm hanging over the side of the couch, tucking it under the blanket draped over his body. "There we go." Something was set down on the table before the agent left, Shadow slowly opening his eyes once the footsteps receded. A glass of what looked like water and a plate with a pastry Stone had described as a croissant had been left for him on the nearby coffee table, and if Shadow was honest, it was...not what he expected.

Both are empty when Stone checks in on him a few hours later, and red eyes are staring when he straightens from grabbing the empty dishes.

"You still hungry?" Shadow just stares, lips twitching as he quietly growled. "I'll take that as a no." He hesitates for a moment before going to set the dishes away, getting Shadow some more water before returning to the couch. "Are you in pain?"

A shake of the head, and the growl peters out when the cup of water is set within reach.

"Good...good." Stone sat on the recliner on the other side of the coffee table, clasping his hands together as he and the hedgehog had an impromptu staring contest. "Uh, I wanted to say thanks? For saving the world, even though you uh, didn't have to." Something flickers in Shadow's eyes for a moment before he looks away with a scowl, a shaky hand reaching out to snatch the water cup off the table. "I'm also sorry."

"For what?" His voice is scratchy from dehydration, but Stone can understand him just fine, having perfected the art of mumble translation courtesy of the doctor.

"Everything you went through." The hedgehog on his couch froze before his quills puffed up, a hissing noise that bordered on a straight-out snarl making Stone sit back in his chair while raising his hands up.

"You know nothing." He can't know, he can't know about her and how he almost failed her

"No, I don't. However, I read every document I could get my hands on, so I know more than most." The former agent kept his voice low and calm, slowly lowering his hands when Shadow stopped snarling at him, quills still puffed up in warning. He watched the hedgehog slowly drink the water he'd been given, staring at Stone with that inscrutable expression that seemed to be his default face.

"What do you want from me?" Ah, there it is, and he shoves down the pain that tugs as his heart deep down for another time.

"Nothing." Shadow's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, disbelief clear on his face no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"You lie."

"Shadow, right now, all I'm focused on is making it to tomorrow." It's a lot to say to a kid, but Shadow has said and gone through worse, so he can handle it. "You have nowhere to go, and G.U.N might try something stupid to a hedgehog who can't even sit up without help right now. I have a spare room, and this town is...safe, I guess, so you'll do fine here." It's a lot of rambling, but Stone was tired. "If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

"....why help me?" He hadn't cared about leaving Stone on the planet, yet here he was helping Shadow. "You could have died."

"I don't have an answer." The human shrugged, and the two lapsed into silence before Shadow slowly put the glass back on the table, quills now flat against his body.

"Very well."

Stone isn't sure what he's signed up for, but it's not the strangest thing he's ever done, taking in a being apparently labeled the Ultimate Lifeform.

Just another Tuesday.

[thanotaphobia]

pájaro

this was written before purgatory......... im devastated pissa nation, WHY WERE THEY SPLIT APART.................................

crossposted to AO3

⋆

It’s four in the morning and Missa is staring at Phil’s wings.

Ever since the first time he’d seen them, he hadn’t really known what to think. At first, Phil had been casually cagey about them, not bringing it up in conversation. Missa hadn’t been sure how to even ask. So he hadn’t– they’d continued on with their lives together like two orbiting stars, caught in each other’s gravitational fields. Missa had kept the feather, and that had been that. Life went on.

And then Missa left for a while. Came back to their son missing. He left again. Came back this time to something in Phil missing, a part of him broken in a way Missa wasn’t sure he could fix.

So he stayed this time. Hanging around Phil’s house and doing little things when he could. Phil hid the broken parts of him fairly well, but it was in this time that Missa started to see the cracks. Whether or not it was intentional, he’s still not sure, but Phil started… letting him in, strangely. They still never really talked about anything, but Phil had told him that he’d needed him, and so Missa stayed. 

The first time they slept in a bed together since the eggs went missing, Phil kept his shirt on. The second– not so much.

It starts with both of them coming back to the house exhausted after a late night out with a few of the other islanders. They’d fought back sleep for a while together, and Missa had stayed late with Phil because even though he knows Fit and Tubbo can handle him just fine, he worries. Phil’s twitchy these days, and with Forever missing even more so. It’s weird, being stuck together like glue when they’d spent so much initial time apart, but neither of them mind. Missa certainly doesn’t. His heart lights up every time Phil so much as smiles at him.

They get home, and Missa almost collapses on the couch before Phil grabs him– just by the arm, a casual over-the-shoulder touch, but the action makes Missa shiver a little. 

“Come sleep in a proper bed, mate,” Phil insists, and Missa can’t say no.

So that’s how he ends up here, at four in the morning, staring at Phil’s wings. They’d crawled into bed together and at some point in the night, Phil had shed his jacket and shirt and had fallen back asleep without them on. Missa had woken up for no good reason at all– maybe a noise outside had startled him awake, but he’d come to in groggy stages only to find inky black feathers brushing against his arm.

He lies there, staring quietly at the shape of Phil’s back in the dim morning light of their bedroom. His shoulder blades rise and fall, a softer kind of darkness edged by nighttime. His feathers are smooth and soft and Missa, almost unconsciously, reaches out and smooths a hand down the flat edge of one. Phil doesn’t seem to wake up, and in the dark Missa can hear his breathing almost settle.

It’s nice. The lying here, together. He likes it. He wants more of it. He was such a stupid fucking fool to leave like he did, leave Phil here to deal with all of this alone. They were supposed to be partners, weren’t they? Husbands. And despite his absence, Phil still calls him his. Missa presses one of his hands to his face and takes a breath, forcing himself to calm down in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Something shuffles– feathers ruffle, the sheets shift, and then Missa feels a heavy arm on top of his own.

“You okay?” Phil asks softly, breaking the silence between them.

“I didn’t mean to wake up,” Missa breathes, his stomach flip-flopping. Phil’s bare skin is warm against his own, and the hand on his arm curls a little tighter.

“It’s alright,” Phil says, still in that soft tone, like he’s afraid to speak any louder for fear of shattering the night. “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”

Missa keeps his face hidden behind his hand. He knows Phil hasn’t been sleeping well lately. It’s hard not to tell, given the state of his gaunt face. He keeps his hand at the level of his eyes when he asks, “What do you dream about?”

“Hm?” 

“When you do sleep,” Missa clarifies. “What do you dream about?”

He hears Phil shouting himself awake, sometimes. It’s just one of those things they don’t talk about. He’s not sure why he’s asking now.

But despite the breach of their unspoken agreement, Phil just… sighs. His hand squeezes Missa’s arm and he lowers his hand from his face, but keeps his eyes closed anyway. It’s very nearly a surprise when Phil answers him.

“Chayanne,” Phil says quietly. “Tallulah. Cucurucho. And– a birdhouse.”

Missa thinks of Phil’s wings, and the harsh cut of the primaries against their bed.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s not all bad,” Phil says. He sounds tired, his voice hoarse. He shifts his weight again and the whole bed moves with it, one of Phil’s feet poking at Missa’s. He pokes back, and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to hear the smile in Phil’s voice. “I dream about you, sometimes.”

“What?” That surprises him enough that he opens his eyes. Phil’s head is a foot or so away from his, and the smile is there, mischievous and soft in the dark. Missa blinks at him, then looks down and away, staring at the puff of black feathers over his shoulder instead. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Phil says. Missa can’t help himself– he looks back at Phil’s face again and finds him searching for something in Missa’s gaze, eyes intense and dark. “Usually I lose you.”

“I’m staying,” Missa says, fiercer than he feels. “I told you, I’m not leaving again.”

“No, I know,” Phil says. “In the dreams it’s not– it’s usually not your fault. But I can never… get there in time.”

“I’m sorry,” Missa says again. Phil just sighs, long and labored, and doesn’t look away from him. The hand on his arm curls, and then drags him a little closer. Missa squeaks but lets it happen, feeling hot breath on his forehead as Phil just keeps him there. Selfishly, some part of him is squealing with delight the way a teenage girl does when seeing her idol. But another part of him aches with a sadness he can’t chase away, a sadness for Phil, a want to push all the nightmares away and let him sleep peacefully for once.

They lie there for a while, saying nothing. It takes Missa almost five minutes of working himself up to shuffle his arms around and bring them up around Phil in turn, caging in his torso and laying gently and unobtrusively on the rough skin that runs a valley up the middle of his wings. The musculature of Phil’s back is unfamiliar, avian-like, but warm. In response, Phil just hugs him a little closer. 

“I wish I could do more,” Missa breathes out on a whim, tucking his chin down and closing his eyes. “To help.”

Phil laughs, the movement rustling between them. “You’re helping plenty, mate.”

“Like this?” 

“Yeah, this is… nice.”

“You didn’t think it’d be nice?” Missa is pretty sure he’s thought about hugging Phil every damn day for the past three months. 

“No, I did, I guess I just…” Phil trails off, “Actually. There is something you could do to help me, if you, uh. If you wanted.”

Missa’s stomach leaps into his throat. He licks his lips to make sure they’re not as bone-dry as they feel. “Sure,” he says. After a second, Phil pulls away from him and Missa is left cold for a moment as he sits up. A second later, the lantern switches on and now he’s cold and blind. “Ah,” he says, bringing a hand to cover his face. “Warn a guy!”

“Sorry,” Phil says, laughing. Missa blinks, eyes adjusted to the light after a moment, and sits up to look at Phil. He’s got his back to Missa, one wing pulled around in front of him, fingers carding through his own feathers. “Take the other?”

“The other?” Missa asks, sitting up and blinking a few more times.

“My wing,” Phil says, giving the feathers a fluffy shake. “The island is constantly springtime. I can’t tell my shedding cycle for shit, but it’s been itchy lately.” The way he speaks is so casual, so bland, but Missa can see the anxiety behind his words. He’s too focused, too careful about how nonchalant he’s being. For a second Missa hesitates, hands ghosting over Phil’s too-short feathers, but then he internally slaps himself and shouts PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, PENDEJO. He can do this. Phil is asking him to do this.

“Okay,” Missa says a few seconds too late. Phil is looking at him now over his shoulder, and Missa gently takes his wing in hand. “How do I…”

“Look for loose feathers. Tug, but not too hard. If they’re ready, they’ll come out,” Phil tells him, and Missa starts to gently tug. “It feels nicer when they lay flat and aren’t so messy, too.”

“How come I never see you do this?” Missa mutters, carding his fingers absently through the feathers. They’re soft– he knows the texture, has spent hours of his life running the feather from the first time he’d seen Philza’s wings through his hands.

“It’s not something I show off,” Phil says quietly. “Not with the fucking Feds lurking around.”

Missa plucks a sheared feather and scowls at it. That, he can understand.

“So why show me?” he asks. He knows why, he thinks– honestly, he just wants to hear Phil say it. A weird little part of him is greedy for Phil to admit why Missa gets to see.

“I trust you,” Phil says. Missa picks a piece of grit out from between his feathers, and delights in the way Phil’s shoulders relax minutely. He does it again, and again, and smiles when he hears Phil sigh.

“I want to see you fly someday,” Missa says, and Phil lets go of his other wing and stretches it out wide, the muscles flexing and feathers shifting. Then he sets it behind him, and Missa understands both of them are now his job. He doesn’t mind. Not one bit. Phil leans forward and braces his arm against the wall, holding himself there.

“Sure,” Phil says. “Once my primaries grow in again, whenever that happens to be.”

“What do you do with the loose feathers?”

“Throw them out. Or you can keep them, if you want.”

Missa looks at the small pile of plucked feathers he has beside him now, and imagines keeping all of them. A special backpack, just for Phil’s feathers. He holds one up in front of his eyes and commits the shape and color of it to memory– a smooth, silky indigo, with a sharp quill that bends a little to the left towards the end of it. 

They sit in silence for a while after that, Missa systematically working his way through Phil’s wings and getting better and better at the job as he does. It’s not often he feels useful around Phil. Usually, Phil is the one doing things for him. But here, Missa is the one doing the work while Phil relaxes, tension slipping from his shoulders like rainwater off a duck’s back, his eyes closing a few minutes in and not opening for a while after. The bed is soft beneath them, Phil is warm in front of him, and Missa’s chest feels so full. It’s not perfect– their children are missing, and that ache never disappears, but right now in the early morning light with Phil golden in front of him, Missa thinks he feels okay.

The love bubbles in him and almost without thinking, Missa cards his fingers through the feathers and leans forward– presses the lightest, softest kiss against the middle of Phil’s back, near the top of his spine and just below his neck.

He sees the way Phil’s muscles twitch and shiver, watches the progression of the movement down his bare back and the way the downier, softer feathers puff up. He feels, for a moment, powerful.

“Let me do this more,” Missa says, riding that wave while he has it. He’s still close to Phil’s back, and tips his head so he’s speaking by Phil’s ear now. “Yeah?”

Phil laughs– his eyes are still closed, his face half hidden in his arms, but he looks better. Not perfect, but better. His laugh sounds just a little bit brighter.

“Yeah,” he says, turning to smile at Missa with an expression like the sun. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d mind that.”

[kismetconstellations]

If you ever find yourself questioning whether or not the Voltron: Legendary Defender showrunners truly despised Shiro, or Shiro fans are simply being melodramatic and hyperbolic when we state as much, contrast the staff's treatment of him with their handling of Pidge.

Compared to their teammates, whose appearances were relatively unaltered, both characters underwent extreme cosmetic makeovers for this iteration of the Voltron/Beast King Go Lion! franchise.

While Takashi Shirogane reclaimed his name and ethnicity from the original 80s Japanese anime, his appearance much more strongly resembles that of a famous character from a completely different franchise.

Pidge Gunderson was gender-swapped, renamed, and de-aged from a "little man from Earth", to Katie Holt, a fifteen year-old girl, with Pidge being a childhood nickname and the alias Katie assumed to disguise herself as a boy when she infiltrated the Galaxy Garrison to uncover the truth about the fates of her father and brother.

Both Shiro and Pidge were given their own unique backstories flavored by varying degrees of tragedy.

And, yet, when Shiro dies two seasons in, we're treated to no dramatic scene of the people who became his found family dropping to their knees, crying out in anguish, and shedding tears over what should be a devastating loss. He's simply gone. No body left behind because it was completely destroyed. By the next episode, Changing of the Guard, with no real sense of how much time has passed, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Allura are all referring to Shiro in the past tense, when they refer to him at all, and show no real signs of grief or mourning until the very end of the episode's run time. (Coran doesn't matter, as he's Wacky Comic Relief Man until the plot requires him to fret over Allura, offer exposition, or handle a technical issue on the Castle of Lions.) Even then, each one of them offers perfunctory little sentiments about how Shiro affected their lives (past tense), extending solidarity to Keith for the express narrative purpose of convincing him to move on and let Shiro go.

The episode immediately following, Red Paladin, Lance is set on proving himself deserving of the new Black Paladin title, and Hunk and Pidge are cracking jokes and fooling around inside of the cockpit of the Black Lion, the very location where Shiro's life came to a violent end, as if nothing ever happened.

Aside from Allura donning pink armor to honor lost and fallen heroes, and making a point of specifically naming Shiro as one of them, It's Keith and Keith alone who seems at all seriously emotionally affected by Shiro's absence.

And, even he is over it by the third episode of the season.

And, this was intended to be the permanent status quo. Shiro was not supposed to be brought back in any capacity.

Pidge, on the other hand, is given an appropriately emotional sequence, complete with poignant flashbacks, atmospheric backdrop, and swelling music, when she believes she's found her brother's grave and was too late to save him.

No one cracks jokes or attempts to make light of what happened. She's allowed the appropriate space and time to mourn before realizing that Matt isn't actually dead, and immediately resuming her journey to find him.

Arguably, both Takashi Shirogane and Pidge Holt were altered so extensively, they might as well have been the showrunners' Original Characters. But, it's only the gay, disabled trauma survivor (whom the showrunners intentionally turned into one, as Takashi and Ryou Shirogane in the original Japanese/Sven Holgersson in the English dub was neither forcibly disabled, nor gay) who is cruelly cast aside after suffering repeatedly, while his able-bodied teammates live on to fight another day.

[campfam4lyfe]

So good to meet another Brookji/Kenlynn fan! What do you think that will happen between them in JWCT season 2 (or later seasons)?

YESSS ANOTHER BROOKENJI!!!!!

okay so, honestly, i have like. zero clue. of what i think will actually happen, because there could be so many different roads for them to take. i know what i want though, and that is a kenlynn endgame. i understand why they broke up, i do. but to see their faces as it happened. the devastation--neither of them wanted it. but kenji had to do it, and i dont blame him.

but guys! brooklynn loves the camp fam--she keeps their picture up on her mystery board. she kept it as her lockscreen. she loves them. i also have to say, that brooklynn loves kenji. as a boyfriend, as a lover--as her person. darius says she was real broken up about the breakup, and she clearly had regrets. she told darius about how and where it happened. she kept that video with the "brokwie bear" and "kenji wenji." she has that video because she couldn't help but film him bc she thought he was being cute. it was one of the first things they saw when they decided to look through her phone! she loves him!

and kenji loves her--his grief over her death, his anger at the people he suspected of being involved in her death--the constant "where were you's" to darius--he needed to know why he wasnt there. that bit where he says "be honest with me. if you loved brooklynn, and mean, really loved her, why werent you there?" broke me, absolutely, cause goddamn ouch. like. he loves her, so he couldnt imagine not showing up if she called him. to the extent where he needs to know why darius wasnt and its like. does he, somehow, blame himself a lot? is that a veiled, *i* could have been there, why didnt she want me there?? devastating stuff.

but. thats all s1 stuff. youre asking about season 2 and onwards! so. what i think will happen--okay, so, you remember how in the end of s1 cc they showed ben was alive? and then we got a ben&bumpy episode that spanned the near-month he was alone. im wondering if they'll do that with brooklynn at some point. truly, i dont know. its possible, but maybe there going to reveal it in pieces, like flashbacks.

i want to know how brooklynn survived. the extent of her realtionship with ronnie, and about all the stuff she'd uncovered abt the dino smugglers since she started till now.

but also, i want a reunion so so bad, and since CT was handling everything else so well, i think theyll do a reunion justice too. and that means i think they will give some of the characters space to be angry. obviously i think there will be relief--who wouldnt be, to find out your friend is alive? but then i think there might also be betrayal, or anger or both.

and maybe also a little horror. brooklynn lost her HAND. and those moments leading up to it must have been terrifying.

i want the fact that she has lost a hand to be addressed. for instance, she can't drive her motorcycle anymore, at least not without a proper prosthesis. and its clearly something she liked doing--her helmets! one for her and one for kenji. just. AHHHHHH you know???

i want kenji to be wooed, let brooklynn woo kenji CT writers, let them woo each other.

i realize i keep meandering and never properly answering your question. im so sorry! okay--i think things will be tense, probably, with relief mixed in, but also a lot of hurt, and some anger. i think brooklynn will have her reasons, its a matter of whether or not the camp fam can accept those reasons or not, after all, we cannot force anyone to accept our apologies. i think they will however, though it may be at different stages for different characters. i think kenlynn will be able to reconcile, and im hoping for a "i knew youd come around/dont ruin it" call back. (my biggest hope is for that ghost line callback tho) but i also think brooklynn will have to show kenji that she does value his time and being with him, and just, him. which, i think its clear she does, but she got a little too consumed with her mystery for a hot sec.

[spacesapphi]

(Finally) Introducing Farmer Möhle!

Profile maker template by Jazybee! More info about them below the cut too :)

Möhle (pronounces moe-luh) was born and raised in Pelican town for 8 years, meaning they knew quite a few people when they returned! Emily was their absolute best friend growing up, and they got along well enough with the few other kids who lived there as well (those kids being Haley, Alex, Shane, and Penny). They lived on grandpas farm with their mom, and spent much time with him. The two were very close. When they were 8, their mom got a better job in the city and couldn't say no to the opportunity. Möhle didn't want to leave, especially since they knew it meant they couldn't see their grandpa or his farm as often anymore. He promised they could come by during the summer and stay with him, but unfortunately passed away mere months after they left.

She got the letter from her grandpa soon after, and wanted so badly to open it, but listened to his instructions to wait until the time was right. The death was absolutely devastating for them though, and being so far from town didn't help. During this time, they stayed in touch with Emily, the two becoming pen pals for years. These letters did help them cope with the loss and the move, though they wished for nothing more than to return to the valley

18 years later, their job at Joja Corp became too much for them to deal with and they finally opened the letter, quitting on the spot after reading it and calling Emily to let her know that they were coming back home. Emily was ECSTATIC when she got the news, and wound up being the one to tell everyone in town! On their first day back, Emily planned a party to welcome them back with everyone who grew up with them, but only she, Penny, and Haley showed up. Möhle was secretly relieved, not really enjoying that much attention.

Farming thankfully wasn't too hard for them, given they had spent much of their early childhood helping out their grandpa. All the knowledge he imparted was still with them, and it didn't take long to get back into the hang of it. Once the junimos got involved though, things got significantly more complicated. The poor quiet farmer who liked no special attention was suddenly in a contract with a multitude of forest spirits to restore the community center AND town and become it's hero. It was a scary, daunting task, but they knew it needed to be done. No one else was gonna do it either, it seemed. Pelican town was so much sadder than they remembered now, and if restoring the center meant bringing life back to the valley, they would simply push through!

After some time back in the valley, friendships grew too! Their bond with Emily only grew stronger, the both of them having a lot of similar interests! They liked to talk about philosophy, spirituality, art, textiles, and music. They made it a point to spend a night every other week just hanging out and talking. Emily couldn't deny she had a teeny crush on them at the time, but that faded once she started getting closer to Sandy

Linus is another great friend, a kindred spirit even. Möhle respected his beliefs and his way of life immediately, which meant everything to him. While Linus was wary of them at first, many trips up the mountain to forage, fish and mine meant they ran into him often, leading them to speak frequently. Linus grew to enjoy their company, and realized he wanted to stay in the valley due to having such an understanding friend. Möhle didn't try to fix him, or make him change his way of life. They accepted him for who he was and wished him well, which was all he ever wanted

Möhle was terrified of Harvey at first, mostly because he was a doctor. Given they had many bad experiences, doctors weren't exactly fun for them. They first met when Möhle had to get their meds transferred over, having a VERY awkward conversation since they sucked at small talk. Both of them were intimidating to the other and neither knew how to handle it (absolute cringefails we love them). However, after spending time talking at festivals and when Harvey had days off, the fear of each other began to fade, and was replaced with mutual respect. They shared their interests with each other, super happy that both of them were collectors (Moll collects rocks) and they both liked jazz!

Sunday afternoons soon became a time for them to have lunch together, listen to music, and work on whatever model plane Harvey had started building. Rumors that they were dating soon went around, and the two rolled with it, realizing they did actually like each other! They had fun, their daily routine not changing much, just having a bit more PDA involved mostly. It didn't last long though, only about 5 months before they realized they worked better as friends. It was a mutual agreement, one that still stung, but one they knew they had to make. They're on very good terms though, and still occasionally have Sunday Lunches together :)

He didn't fit in the template but Elliot is also a bestie!! The two of them run into each other at the library, talking about their favorite novels and classics, often reading together and discussing themes and metaphors in the books. When Elliot mentioned he was a writer they volunteered to be his test reader immediately, to which he said yes. They occasionally have meetups in the library or at his cabin to go over writing and bounce ideas back and forth, usually listening to classical music to help brainstorm

Marnie was a good friend and business partner of Möhles grandpa before he died. She was so excited to hear they were coming back to town, and made sure she gifted them two chickens upon moving in (they have the Meadowlands Farm). She invited them to a family dinner right when they moved in, wanting them to feel like they still had something close to family in the valley, even though their grandpa was gone. They met Jas during the event, who was very wary and shy towards them, even if Aunt Marnie insisted they were a family friend. Möhle and Shane's reunion wasn't exactly the best either

He was much ruder than they remembered, and they didn't like it. Marnie tried to explain that he was going through a lot and needed time, but it didn't make them feel much better. Everytime they visited Marnie, they'd run into him, usually finding him buzzed or hungover, standing by the microwave. They'd try to say hello, almost always getting a blank stare or an unamused sound of acknowledgement in return. They tried to keep Marnies explanation in mind, but frequently got frustrated by these interactions. Honestly the two of them kind of had beef for a while

But, they did get a few glimpses of the good sides of him, the glimpses that made them believe that the kind, happy person he was when he was a kid was still around. For one, seeing how he interacted with his goddaughter and Marnie was always sweet. No matter how cold he was to others, he always seemed to brighten up when spending time with them. His demeanor seemed softer, he smiled more and he was happy! It was the same way around Marnies chickens too. They had seen how gentle he was with them, how much he loved and doted on them, overhearing all the chicken stories he'd tell Emily at the saloon. Maybe, just maybe, Marnie was right. They knew well that hard circumstances and mental illness could make a person put up walls... They just hoped they would come down

Holy shit this turned into an essay but I'm VERYYYY passionate about my OC's and Stardew AU stuff. I'm gonna be making more Möhle content in the future since there's more I wanna write and draw for, I have a WIP thats nearly done actually! If u made it this far ty :))

[danganronpafan777]

if you are taking requests now I would like the sdra2 boys with a female S/O who has a twin sister and they both have a relationship like Liv and Maddie. They both get into a big fight and now their boyfriend has to comfort them. Bonus points for the aftermath and S/O and her sister make up

Liv and Maddie was a great show ngl

This makes me think of a prompt like the pilot episode of the show. Where Y/n's twin asks the bois out, pretending to be her shy sis and the guys turn them down, realizing that's it's not actually Y/n. The twin admits what they did to Y/n, who is now mad at them and devastated that the guys turned "them" down, but the boys then ask the real Y/n out. Yeah idk I'm a loser lmao

Yuki Maeda:

Yuki highly recommends for you to make amends, even if you weren't in the wrong, he still advises you to take the first step

He'll give an honest opinion about whether you're in the right or wrong, but he'll be hesitant about it if he believes the latter

He's scared because he doesn't want to get in the middle and intrude on your relationship, but he also wants to help the two of you make up

"Y-Y/n... You don't have to listen to me, but... I think you should talk to her."

Yuki would cuddle you and reassure you as much as he can, because he knows you'd do the same for him (and you probably have-)

He sets up a fort and movie marathon to help you take your mind off the fight for a bit, and he'll be by your side when you decide to face it

Yuki will try to stay out of the making up event itself, but he'll awkwardly join you if you ask him to

He's extremely proud of you and glad when you make up! The two of you go to the amusement park to celebrate, and he'll offer for you to ask your sister to come as well if you'd like

Yuki is awkward in sibling affairs, being an only child (but also being adopted by Shinji and Setsuka-) but he's trying his best to help you, and his eyes would light up when you tell him he did well 

Teruya Otori:

Teruya has had very few, if any, fights with his dad, but he's used to being the mediator between Rei and Tsurugi, so he has a good idea on what to do

He listens to you of course, but also tries to get both sides of the story. If your sister tells him to leave her alone, he won't press

He'll be honest on what he thinks about the fight, but he doesn't think there's a right or wrong with fights, just a difference in opinions

"Neither of ya were wrong...but neither of ya were right either."

If you get emotional, Teruya holds you, not judging in the slightest. The two of you cuddle together until your ready to talk with her again. 

He assures you that he'll be there for you no matter what happens, and he's confident that the two of you will get past this

He'll go with you if you ask him, but also wants to give the two of you some privacy. He won't intervene unless things escalate. 

Teruya's extremely proud of you when the two of you make up, and he's happy to treat the both of you to dinner

Shinji Kasai:

Shinji would also listen to both sides of the story, albeit stuttering all the while because you're both girls

Even if you're in the wrong, he'll advise you to be the bigger person and make amends

He tries to get both of you to see each other's perspectives, regardless of who's right or wrong 

However, he's also patient with both of you. If you need space or affection, he'll happily give it to you. If your sister isn't ready to talk with you, he'll make sure the two of you give her some time

"It'll be alright, Y/n. I'm sure she'll come around, and I'm right by your side..."

Shinji is skilled at handling conflict, but will give the two of you privacy when you decide to make up, still giving you some advice prior. If you'd like him to be there, he'd oblige, but try to take to intervene unless necessary

If one of you tries to walk out on the other again, he'll stop it. The two of you are ending this fight once and for all! 

Shinji can only smile when the two of you makeup, turning even redder when you say that it's all thanks to him and his support

Hajime Makunouchi:

He's definitely stressed when he hears about your fight with your sister. Even if you aren't in the wrong, be prepared for a lecture

Hajime doesn't have good experience with families, but he won't let you or your sister abandon each other, especially not because of a stupid fight. 

He won't leave either of you alone, making himself a mediator and listening to both accounts. It's a side of him that you haven't seen before... 

On the bright side, he'll ease up on his health talks and training. Hajime won't completely let you ditch training, as it could help take your mind off things. Still, he'll gladly hold and comfort you as you express your worries. 

"I can talk to her for you if you want Y/n, but it would mean much more to her if you were the one to do it."

He calmly coerces you into talking with her. There was no way he was letting this end on a bad note. 

When your actually making up, Hajime would like to be there, but won't invite himself. He'll give the two of you privacy, but would intervene if the two of you still refuse to make up. It surprises you how much Hajime seems to care about this, but you appreciate his help, even if it can come off as overbearing at times 

Yuri Kagarin:

Two lovely women fighting? That won't do!

He would spoil you as much as he possibly can. If you want something, Yuri would buy the whole store. If you were sad, he'd hold you and never let go

He won't take a side, obviously he'll listen to you more since you're his S/o, but if your sister has something to say, he'll listen to her too

Yuri would only give the two of you privacy if you asked him to, to which he'd profusely apologize for overstepping boundaries. Overall, he's more than happy to help the two of you make up

"Everything will be alright, Мой ��веток. S/n may just need some time. But until then, I'll always be here~."

He stays neutral for the most part, telling you each how the other has a point. Yuri is a good mediator with fights between women, and would stop himself from intervening as much as he can (If you had a brother, this scenario would be completely different-)

Thanks to him, the fight is handled responsibly and the problem is laid to rest. Yuri is willing to spoil both you and your sister afterwords, but the two of you only thank him, grateful for his help and support.

Syobai Hashimoto:

It depends on how big and serious the fight is

He doesn't know a lot or care much for family, not really having any loved ones before he met you

If she insulted you, he'll tell her to screw off. Syobai isn't one for making up, as fights with his job usually end in bloodshed

If you're in the wrong, he'll tell you. Just because your his S/o doesn't mean he'll automatically take your side

"Y/n, I don't have a lot of experience with this shit. If you don't want to talk to her again, cut the bitch out of your life. If you love her and want to make up, then do it." 

Syobai tells you to either talk to her and makeup or get on with your lives, which is still better than what he'd say if you weren't close. 

If this fight genuinely upset you, he'll kiss your forehead and begrudgingly hold you until your ready to confront her. He'll claim to leave the two of you alone, but he can't help but eavesdrop. 

He feels oddly glad when he learns that you made up with your sister, but he'll completely deny it and claim he doesn't care

Mikado Sannoji:

No matter what, Mikado will always take your side. 

He'll listen to your side and will completely take your word for it. She insulted you? He's moments away from summoning flames and threatening her. 

He's an orphan, so he has no idea what to do. When Mikado fights with someone, he usually blackmails, begs, or scares them into submission, so he's not good at making up either...

"Y/n, dear...If you'd truly like to make up, I believe you should tell her so."

That's the best advice he can give you, and he wouldn't push you to make up.

Mikado would hold and comfort you as much as you'd like, and would probably avoid your sister. He'll gladly perform some magic tricks to take your mind off the fight!

Mikado won't force anything, letting the two of you make amends at your own pace. He would probably eavesdrop, but wouldn't intervene unless your sister insults you or things escalate  He doesn't expect to feel so happy for you when you make up, but he's happy nonetheless! Your family is the closest thing to a family of his own that Mikado has, so while he puts you first, Mikado is glad that the two of you were able to work it out

Nikei Yomiuri:

You're fighting with your sister?  PLAYER 3 HAS JOINED THE MATCH

Yeah, he's not staying out of it. If you fight in front of him, he'll take your side, and would straight up berate her if she insults you

"What the hell is S/n's problem?? She knows the world doesn't revolve around her, right?"

The two of you vent to each other, cuddling all the while. Nikei is naturally a stubborn person, so you're probably the one who has to mention making up with her before it even crosses his mind.

He has very poor experience with families, but he still wants to try his best to help you. Nikei isn't completely sure what to do, but your bonds with your family mean a lot to you, and he admires that

As a reporter, he is good at hearing both sides of the story, so after the fight dies down, he decides to actually assess both perspectives before making an argument (He most likely ends up taking your side anyway)

 When it comes to making up, giving the two of you privacy doesn't even cross his mind (and he might feel slightly offended if your sister suggests it) 

Would intervene even if it's not necessary. He means well, he really does, but can be quite short tempered...

In the end, he doesn't really play a huge role in helping the two of you makeup, but he's still glad that you both got past this, and is proud of you for keeping a positive relationship with your sister despite your differences

[vacantgodling]

Some random questions so that I can feel things about divorced dads:

when did they each first realize they were in love?

what is the most awkward thing they've had to do as exes?

what is Jihan's blood situation now that Hue is out of the picture?

does Hue have a picture of his happy family for dramatic regret purposes?

~ @void-botanist

THANK YOUUU, i answer to join in the divorced dad feels <3

when did they first realize they were in love?

they did have a kind of slow burn kind of romance, and for the two of them both being fast to fuck, i think that was the first clue something was different.

hue definitely fell in love first i think—probably about two years into them first knowing each other when he was suffering through undergrad—seeing jihan was always a bright spot in his day, and he didn’t even have to do anything other than be there, or smile, and it would make his heart kind of flutter. jihan is such an easy person to be around it really melted hue’s stress (still does even if he doesn’t wanna admit it in his stubbornness). but i think the biggest thing that made him realize he was head over heels is when his parents passed (his dad first in a fatal accident and his mom of heartbreak 2 years later or so) and jihan was there for him and his sister’s every step of the way. jihan (being old and having lost many people in his life) knows his way around grief, and hue had never experienced a loss so devastating like these. so i think that’s when he kinda realized he wanted to marry him. hue can be a bit impulsive (mentally) but usually he can plan and be patient. so he didn’t tell jihan he loved him until several years later. but that’s when.

jihan didn’t really have a specific moment where he realized he was in love with hue, it was very much an “oh! …. oh” moment for him slowly falling in step with him. hue’s the first person that’s ever made jihan crave being domestic—he never married any of his previous partners before hue just because he wasn’t in the mindset of settling down and neither were the people he were with but something about hue makes him really value that domesticity. it kind of hit him all at once one day when hue was talking about jihan moving in with him since he practically lived there anyways and jihan was like oh. i want to spend the rest of your life with you. okay. i can do that.

what’s the most awkward thing they’ve had to do as exes?

everything relating to their daughters is honestly so awkward for them like it’s not even funny. the two of them having to sit through interviews for esther’s college was a nightmare cuz the government is basically like it’s cute that you all think a divorce is gonna stop us from making yall live together as magical insurance in case something goes wrong. no matter how much hue tried to convince them he had it on his own 💀

second most awkward thing was ozzi’s new school’s pta meeting LMAO.

what is jihan’s blood situation now that hue is out of the picture?

aside from the times where hue is giving jihan mixed signals and giving into the temptation to let han feed off of him, jihan alternates between buying blood bags (when he has money; he’s always been such a nomad and never has had a job lol) or making friends with people and couch surfing and feeding off them. he’s only polite and usually only proposes it when he’s known someone for awhile and thinks they’d be cool with it, and doesn’t mind if someone refuses. he can’t offer money a lot of the time, but he’ll do things for you if you want lol (though many of his long term friends don’t care about that)

someone he actually does end up feeding off of is actually kaspian! he’s another werewolf 👀 but he’s got a LOT of kids and is always tired, so jihan kind of becomes a babysitter for him (and crashes occasionally) since he knows how to handle kiddos thanks to esther and ozzi. werewolf kids are more of a handful than witches though!

as a tangent as well, hue and kaspian actually end up meeting and becoming friends because three of kas’s older children go to the same school as ozzi and one of them (chryses) becomes one of ozzi’s friends. because hue and kas are both wolves they end up bonding but hue has no idea that kas knows jihan and he winds up soooorta in the middle of it. he’s not a REAL romantic interest for either of them just a good friend and middle man a lot of the time in the drama. but hue DEFFO does get jealous when he finds out that han’s been snacking on kas—i feel like that’s what would end up sparking the divorced dad sex for the first time lmao 💀💀💀

(i also say he’s not really a romantic interest but i can also see either of them separately having a little more than friendly encounters with kas. i haven’t thought of a partner for him tbh he just needs to unwind sometimes and what’s a bj/hj between friends? LMAO)

ENOUGH ABOUT KAS THO (unless you wanna hear more about him pff)

does hue have a picture of his happy family for dramatic regret purposes?

literally so many. the man tortures himself. he still can’t bring himself to change jihan holding esther at her hs graduation from his phone’s lockscreen bc he hates himself LMAO.

[vessmar]

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡.

𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲.

despite having always seen ghosts, vesper grew up unaware that he was, in fact, a demigod — having lost his mother at age four, he was left with his human father as sole guardian. neither he nor his twin brother, cassian, were made aware of the circumstances of their lives, considering neither displayed any signs of having inhuman abilities during childhood, and their father, steinn, was not so keen on allowing his sons out from under his boot. giving them the knowledge that they were likely to develop far greater power than steinn could control was a dangerous endeavor for such a man, an abuser and a trained assassin. he was cruel to his children, and raised them as little more than child soldiers, intended to follow in his footsteps once he knew he'd broken them in sufficiently enough. breaking his sons down meant isolation, branding, and amputation of healthy limbs as retaliation and total control.

the two were raised as rivals, taught that the better son was more deserving of better care, low though that may have been. vess hated cas, and he pitied him, a small flame of empathy his father was unable to extinguish in the eighteen years they lived in the same house. this flame was exactly what allowed the two boys, as teens, to finally set aside their rivalry in order to work against the greater threat: their father. their escape plan was months in the making when steinn found out about it, and in his terrible rage, he managed to land a fatal blow to his younger son, leaving vess the opening to end his father once and for all. relieved and devastated all at once, vess made his silent promise to his brother's body that he'd live well for both of them, and left.

steinn’s body was eaten by wild animals, and decomposed as all things do. the house, already in poor repair, decayed slowly where it stood. however, cassian’s body disappeared intact — but vesper never went back to know.

instead, he dragged himself out of his grief by keeping his father’s business open: a mortuary house, an establishment that hid deep secrets under steinn’s command, a way to expedite the process of ridding oneself of a body, and having the connections within the industry of human death to dispose of all necessary aspects of a victim. with this work, having been trained in handling bodies and the art of preservation, vess began to rework the place into a genuine business, and saved as much as he could. with this, he bought a house, a car, renovations, and built a life he was determined to live, out of sheer spite and a lifetime of desperate anger.

around age 22, vess noticed that the plants around his home were dried and lifeless, and that his first romantic partner was getting more and more mysteriously sick, with only shrugs and prescribed rest given by doctors. he was yet unaware that he was killing them himself, a death demigod, coming into his power, at first an aura he could not control. after months of stress, desperation brought vesper to a magical healer, a segment of the magical population vess had heard of but never encountered, keeping much to himself, thinking himself human. it was then and there that he realized the gravity of the situation: they were rotting from the inside out, and vess’ godly blood was to blame.

the surprise, and the anguish, led to a breakup of that relationship and vesper went into hiding for some time, broken and confused and tired, unsure what to make of his newfound circumstances. despite how much vess figured the world wanted to tear him down, when his grief turned to anger, spite won again, and he simply went back to his life. the only constant in his everyday now would be bodies of the deceased, and he figured there was not much he could do to harm them any further, so he went back to work, telling himself it would be okay, but it would be different. no longer would he force himself into social settings in order to meet people, vess figured he could live a good enough life on his own, with the deranged little cat he’d picked up along the way. curious that that little feline never died.

vesper stopped aging as his body reached full maturity, around the age of thirty when most would begin to notice a decline, vess simply... froze in time.

his mother’s insistence on integrating herself into the lives of humans meant that her death was followed by an erasing, beings sent to scrub her existence from every bit of the human world. this meant that vess only began to find information about her when he met his brother once again — long dead, surely, but granted reaperhood due to his lineage. cassian’s reappearance in vess’ life led to an opening of a whole new world he’d never bothered exploring — that of magical beings, and gods, and the underworld his mother reigned queen of. he is now taking the chance to learn, practice, and hone the powers passed onto him by her blood.

𝐓𝐋;𝐃𝐑.

vess is a death demigod who was raised alongside his brother by his abusive father as an assassin. he killed his father and went on to live his live, wherein he found that his mother's blood gave him power over death, decay, and rot. these powers are both voluntary and involuntary.